#and YOU tried flirting your way out of (does NOT count) and tried to scare her into leaving you alone. both of you shut tf up

[loverboybrightsideghost]

eugene and rapunzel are like obviously some of my favorite little character people but i WILL also always roll my eyes when in the show they say shit like they fell in love at first sight bitch no you did not. you fell in love between campfire kingdom dance and lantern scene don't be lying man

[koqabear]

For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!

[2K Masterlist]

"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."

football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.

warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!

notes: went just a bit overboard rawr

Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you. 

It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.

Which only served to entice Taehyun more.

You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly. 

Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist. 

“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”

Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own. 

To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of. 

All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days. 

So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”

“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you. 

“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”

You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face. 

“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.

“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”

Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.

“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?” 

“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.” 

Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues. 

“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”

“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?” 

He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him. 

“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”

Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment. 

Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.

“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint. 

“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”

Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along. 

“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!” 

You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.

“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel. 

“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”

Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong. 

“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”

“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked. 

“Then leave.”

The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”

You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.

“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”

Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.

You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.

His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat. 

Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad. 

And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.

When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now. 

“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”

God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you. 

“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.

“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”

You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.

It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”

His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.

“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”

Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”

“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most. 

If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.

His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.

“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance. 

“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing. 

“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment. 

Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now. 

You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away. 

The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”

You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.

“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”

“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”

Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.

“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.

Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him. 

“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure. 

“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.

“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?” 

This… is not what you were expecting from him. 

You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying. 

But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders. 

“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.

“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”

The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push. 

“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion. 

You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.

“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you. 

Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train. 

Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding. 

“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”

“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”

Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that. 

“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”

You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly. 

“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly. 

With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you. 

Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight. 

The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.

“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.

It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion. 

“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you. 

The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.

“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste. 

“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”

“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”

The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after. 

When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on. 

You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought. 

Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle. 

“Can I take you out on a date?”

Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)

“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”

Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.

“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”

Your smile drops.

“Just for that, I’m saying no.”

“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.

“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll see you after practice then.”

[emilys-bangs]

heaven is a place on earth with you | e.p

Tags: shy!hotch's assistant!reader, soft emily, just fluff, first date, one singular use of honey because emily is down bad, first kiss <3, emily being an absolute GENTLEMAN, reader gets treated so right, no use of yn

Summary: Emily asks you out on a date and gives you the first glimpse of something new. Requested here.

Word count: 1.2k

You suspect that Emily Prentiss has a soft spot for you. 

It’s a ridiculous thing to think—an even more ridiculous thing to believe—but most evidence you’ve gathered points to that exact conclusion. She gives you soft smiles and softer touches; more often than not, there’s a sweet nickname on her tongue to replace your name. Flirting is beyond her, thankfully—you don’t think you could handle that without turning into a ball of flame—but gentle teasing is not, her ribbing undeniably more tender than what she doles out to the rest of the team. 

And, the most prominent piece of proof:

“A date.” You echo softly. The thought makes your pulse speed up, thudding so hard beneath your skin you fear that Emily could hear it from where she leans over your desk. She nods, her face carefully smoothed out of any emotion, but her eyes give her away, the softened tilt of her lids turning them all the more doe-like.

“Yeah. If you’d like to.”

Of course you’d like to. You’d like to do a lot of things with her, most of which bring a flame to your cheeks. You’ve never felt this way before about someone, especially not someone like her, but it’s not her gender that scares you, nor what it means that you desperately want to feel her feminine soft curves up against your body. You’re just…achingly you, and she’s achingly Emily. Briefly you wonder if she’s messing with you.

“A non platonic date?”

Emily draws her bottom lip into her mouth, the soft pink of her tongue pressing it in before letting it go, shiny with color. “Very non platonic,” she confirms gently. Her eyes study you, no doubt taking in the hitch of your breath—and probably mistaking it for some other emotion, because she quickly backtracks. “I totally get it if you don’t want to, just say the word and we can just forget this ever—”

“I want to.”

Emily’s face clears. “You do?” She breathes, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. “Really? You’re not saying that just to spare my poor feelings?”

“Really,” you say, a hot glow warming you up from the inside. Emily is looking at you with far too much affection; you drop your eyes and fiddle with a random pen. “Besides, you don’t really spare my poor feelings half the time, why would I spare yours?”

Even without looking up, you hear the incredulity in her voice. “What? Honey”—your heart flutters at the pet name—“I have the highest regard for your feelings. Promise.” She says solemnly.

“You’re doing it again.” You mumble, looking up to catch her eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Oh. It’s the—?” She gestures vaguely with her hand. You nod, chest warming at her out of place awkwardness. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink, “I’m sorry—”

“No. Really, don’t, I—” You like it. You like her, and it makes your whole body thrum. Swallowing, you drop the pen, glad at least that this conversation is happening in the sanctuary of your office. “I’ve never done this before.” You admit softly, because it’s Emily. You’re safe with her. “A date, I mean. With…with a woman,” you shrug, not looking at her. There’s no doubt in your mind that Emily is well experienced in romantic affairs. The truth is, women or otherwise, you’re just not. A few tries, most of them mediocre, had convinced you to stop wasting your time. And besides, it’s not like people often ask.

When you chance a look at Emily, her mellow smile soothes the fast paces of your heart. Her voice is velvet smooth as she draws patterns on the surface of your desk, her fingertips occasionally skimming yours—ever so slightly. “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?” She asks gently.

Not messing with you, you decide. Probably too late, but you can’t really care.

“No. Please don’t make me pick,” your tongue darts across your lips. “Anywhere is fine.”

Emily winks. You go boneless.

“You got it.”

____

She takes you to a botanical garden.

You’re more overwhelmed by her than you are by the flowers. The feeling has been steadily growing ever since she showed up at your door, tender gentility and a nervous smile and a bouquet of flowers, her voice lilting when she said, I think these might be a little too on the nose. You hadn’t known what she’d meant, but you were too endeared to try to figure it out. Now you smile. On the nose or not, Emily Prentiss is something else.

It hadn’t stopped there. There was her hand on the small of your back, her fingers around the car door handle as she pulled it open for you, her compliments shining down on you like the fading glow of a sunset. It’s not a side of her you’re entirely unused to, but the intimacy of an open setting with just the two of you made it hit hard on your cheeks.

“I thought you might prefer walking around,” Emily says when you stay quiet, trying to swallow the ball of emotion in your throat. “We could go somewhere else if you don’t want to—”

“Emily.” You cut her off before she can spiral. “Stop. It’s—it’s perfect. Really. Couldn’t have picked it better myself.” Your voice is soft with overwhelm, hands warming at your sides.

Emily’s smile is incandescent. “Okay,” she breathes out, clearly relieved, “if you’re sure.”

You nod, unable to help smiling back. When her hand returns to the small of your back you lean into it, both relieved and disappointed that she doesn’t reach for your hand.

She knows about flowers. Of course she does—murmuring in your ear about the symbolism of daffodils, the various meanings of all the colors of roses, the Persian legend of the red tulip. It takes the spotlight off of you, and before you know it you’re relaxing at her side, any tension broken as the two of you bend to sniff flowers, their scent sweet and fragrant under the sun.

When she offers you a fallen marigold, petals gently rumpled and bent, her smile hidden beneath its orange halo, you beam back unrestrained. She idly mentions it’s the October birth flower, and when you lean in, lips to her cheek, you surprise even yourself. You miss the mark by a bit, catching the corner of her mouth in your haste.

Emily’s eyes go wide. They glitter under the sun, crinkling at the corners when she grins brightly, dimples digging deep. She doesn’t mention it for the rest of the day out of courtesy for your poor nerves, but a smile never strays far from her lips. You take comfort—and a tiny swell of pride—at the way her cheeks color a light pink.

When you try again later that night, back to your front door, your mouth finds hers with careful precision. Emily smiles into the kiss, cupping your jaw with a reverent hand. You taste flowers on her lips.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic

[tvhsleb3ww]

FOURTH TIME'S A CHARM! - MIYA ATSUMU

summary miya atsumu had lost hope on finding the one for him after multiple failed relationships before you came along

swearing, suggestive (mentions of getting laid), flirting, light punching(does that count as violent?), pure fluff honestly, some twins bickering

his first girlfriend was when he was 13. he had just gotten popular for being the best setter in the district. surely, many girls had gone up to him and tried to befriend him. he wouldn't deny the attention because we all know miya atsumu loves attention. especially from cute girls his age.

the relationship wasn't long, probably around 3 weeks or so. it was the first time tsumu had broken his piggy bank with his dad's hammer to take out some cash and use them to buy his girlfriend some chocolate.

it ended when tsumu hit puberty and had a terrible break out. the girl was probably freaked and it was the first time tsumu cried over a girl. they never even had the chance to kiss like he had imagined!

the second girlfriend was when he was in his third year of highschool. it was a much more serious relationship and he developed strong feelings for the girl. it was the first time tsumu went on multiple dates and had a girl over.

despite that, he got dumped once again after high school ended and his said girlfriend is going overseas for her studies.

things started to heat up a bit as he reached his early twenties. due to his rising fame from the volleyball industry and his incredibly good looks, women especially models, are interested in him.

likewise, he's not one to deny attention and affection from hot ladies. oh, he loves it.

starting from there, he had a couple flings and hook ups. he even got popular with the supermodel ladies for being amazing in bed. although, he was never one to try and find a relationship.

that changed after he met a girl at a club. he was one hundred percent sure that she was the one. the way she was hitting on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. his breath hitches everytime they interacted and thus it was his first real relationship in a long while.

it lasted for six months or so after he got dumped for a CEO bastard. he then started to think maybe he was never meant to find his other half. maybe he was gonna die alone.

that thought had him awake at night and as much as he is scared of that predicament, he can't really do anything to change it. he just accepted his fate right then and there.

and it all changed when he locked eyes with you.

it was official. osamu had opened his restaurant for approximately two years now! to celebrate this achievement, he had decided to close the store for a day to throw a small party to celebrate.

of course, all his family and friends were invited. atsumu's volleyball team, his friends from high school, his relatives, everyone!

"samu! congrats man!"

tsumu exclaims with a bright smile as he pulls his twin brother into a hug. osamu quickly hugs him back before giving him a punch on the shoulder, making atsumu yelp.

"ey! the hell was that for, ya twerp!?"

he pouted at his brother as osamu just chuckled. osamu crossed his arms over his broad chest, a gentle smile on his face as he watches his twin brother being dramatic as usual.

"that's for bein' late, ya asshat. yer team already started eatin' ages ago"

osamu rolled his eyes as atsumu just chuckles.

"i had somethin' to take care of"

"oh shut yer mouth, i know you've been sleepin' and forgot"

"ey!"

their interaction went on with some laughter and some light punches. the usual miya twin interaction. after some minutes, atsumu had left to join his team at the table.

"hey, you're late! good thing, the food isn't finished yet"

bokuto chirped as he started to prepare a plate for atsumu. he grinned at this, mumbling a small 'thank you' but before he could sit down he's been told to go get some drinks from the counter.

"wha? but a was just about to sit!"

"just take it, that's your punishment for being late"

he pouts and huffs but he goes anyway.

he walks towards the counter and as his fingers wrap around the bottle of sake, a hand was grabbing it too. his eyes widen slightly as he turns his head to take a look at the dude who's taking his drink.

at that moment, he felt like he had died and ascended to heaven because holy fuck was that an angel right beside him? he had never seen anyone this pretty before. and god, her eyes! he could stare into them for as long as he can.

maybe, he was staring for too long with his mouth agape because it caused you to clear your throat to get him back into reality.

"sorry, were you taking this?"

you quickly asked him and for a second there, you could've sworn you saw heart shaped pupils. he immediately took his hand away from the bottle.

"well, i was gonna but it's all yours if you want it, pretty"

he says with a flirty tone added with a flirty wink as he leaned against the counter. your lips curled into a smile at his flirt, cheeks also growing a tad red. you fixed your hair and he swears it's love at first sight.

"thank you"

you mumbled, giving him a smile before you walked away to your table. he sighed dreamily as he watches you from afar. how can someone look so pretty? your hair, your eyes, your body. the way you were staring at him judgingly made his heartbeat skyrocket. he found it so hot and cute.

he never rushed to osamu so fast in his life before. osamu, who had just gone out from the kitchen was quickly pulled into the nearest VIP rooms by his brother.

"hey! what the hell is your deal!?"

osamu groans at his brother. atsumu grabbed his shoulders.

"listen, am askin' ya as yer big brother-"

he rolled his eyes at that, big brother my ass. just by 5 minutes.

"do ya have a friend that's absolutely fuckin' hot and gorgeous ya'd feel like ya died an' saw an angel?"

osamu narrowed his eyes. what an overexaggerated question. he thought about it for a minute.

"are ya talkin' bout (y/n)? i mean, she's the only female friend i have"

(y/n). what a cute name. he sighed dreamily again when he remembered their interaction. osamu raised a brow at this.

"(y/n)? ya mean the girl of ma dreams?"

"ugh, ya lovesick idiot. yer supposed to be celebratin' my achievement not get laid"

atsumu shot him a glare and lets go of his grip on osamu's shoulders.

soon enough, they both leave the room to join the party again. osamu went to see some of his college friends and atsumu had gone to join his team.

on his way, his gaze falls on you. you looked so beautiful under the orange lights of osamu's restaurant and were you talking to his grandmother?

not only beautiful but friendly and good with old people. his heart beats faster when you laughed at whatever his grandma said because you look amazing, fuck.

and at that second, he locked eyes with you. you kept the eye contact with a gentle smile on your lips.

with just a small wink from you, he knows. he knows that he's fallen too deep for you.

[studiogrimm810]

Spackle

pairings/characters: (pining)dean winchester x gn!reader, sam is also there

summary: in a desperate attempt to back burner his feelings for you, dean tries to fill the void with pointless sex. and goddamn does that hurt

warnings: miscommunication and clarification, not too much, ANGSTY THO and happy ending ^.^

word count: 3,265

A/N: this is a request!!! i had a blast writing this one, love me some pining winchesters heheh. to get added to my tag list just send me an ask!! <3

(p.s. i realize this story set up isn’t exactly how it was worded in the request and i’m so sorry i’m just now noticing this T.T,, if you want a redo, pls lmk and i’ll correct my ways. okay ily)

———————

Light conversation murmurs over a steady 80s country song selected on the jukebox of this oddly cozy dive bar. Another successful hunt, with the help of your beloved Winchesters, lead the trio to celebrate amongst a round of drinks. The past few weeks, you’ve been tagging along for hunt after hunt and have really enjoyed the time with the boys. However, the closer proximity to the older brother only worsens the ache in your chest.

You watch him now as he throws back an amber shot of burning whiskey. His face hardens in a subtle growl at the sting as he slams the empty glass down. You follow his lead, letting the pungent liquid scrape down your throat and settle into your stomach, already warming with alcohol.

“Damn, they’ve got some cheap whiskey,” Dean blows out air through tight lips, cringing at the lingering singe of the alcohol. You nod, eyes scrunched in disgust.

“Whiskey is all pain, next time it’s vodka,” you declare, shaking off the burn and taking a swig of your less threatening house ale.

“Vodka is a young man’s game. Weak,” Dean mocks, taking a few fries from the communal basket in the middle.

“Are you so insecure that you have to validate your drunkenness with the more painful whiskey? Vodka drunk is where it’s at, I’m sick of pretending it’s not,” you shrug, taking a few fries as well.

Sam just chuckles at your bickering, tapping his fingers with the beat for the song. After back-to-back cases like this, you’ve noticed Sam is more inclined to let loose and relax with you and Dean.

The waitress comes back to the table and your body tenses as Dean's eyes trace her curves, landing on her face.

“Hey, sweetheart, can we get another round?” Dean holds up his empty shot glass. You force your gaze away, trying to ignore the sizzling discomfort under your skin.

There’s a few lines exchanged between the two and you have to bite your tongue to keep your emotion off your face.

Soft footsteps echo away and you look up to see Dean's eyes lingering for a beat too long. You try to ignore the ache in your chest, it’s not your place to feel so strongly for Dean. He’s not yours to call you own and you have no right to feel as blindingly jealous as you do when he throws his fucking googly eyes at a girl you couldn’t beat in a lineup.

It doesn’t stop the way the pain halts your lungs though because you’re still forced to watch the man you love ogle the most beautiful woman in the room.

“God, I could use a night to just unwind,” Dean hints into his beer, taking a sip and setting it back down with a refreshed hiss.

You don’t respond, instead taking a deep gulp of your ale, trying to drown the words so close to crawling out of your throat. Part of the burnout you’re starting to experience has fallen victim to Dean and his goddamn charm. He can’t help but flirt with anything shiny, it’s his nature, but you wished he thought you were someone worth flirting with.

And unfortunately, what you didn’t know was that it killed Dean to have you around like this. The pent up tension of having you so close makes him itch. He wants so desperately to give into the pull he feels between you two but he’s scared. Actually scared of making you uncomfortable or messing it up. So instead he deflects all of his affection he pleads to shower you with and points at whoever else is in his line of sight. It barely keeps him contained.

Another hour or so passes and you’re drunk enough to feel the absence of pain for the man next to you. Dean is drunk enough to pretend the pretty waitress can spackle the crevasse you’ve cracked into his sternum.

As Dean bids a goodnight and charms the waitress into an early cut, you chug the rest of your ale and turn to Sam.

“Are you present enough to drive us back to the motel?” You ask, fluttering a toothpick between your fingers.

“You got it,” Sam sits up, pulling out a wad of cash and planting it on the table, taking one last swig of his water and- well, you don’t remember him ordering a water- leading you out the front door that Dean and the mystery woman disappeared through just a few minutes ago.

You toss Sam your keys, Dean having taken the Impala, and climb into your passenger seat, letting the soft hum of the radio melt your mind.

Sam helps you into the motel, you may have drunk past your feelings tonight. You claim Dean's bed as your own since he won’t be here tonight, it’s the least he owes you- soberly though, you knew that’s not true.

“You good, can I get you anything?” Sam asks, untying his shoes and loosening his flannel.

“Nah, ‘M good,” you shake your head, sitting up and taking off your uncomfortable layers. You successfully get down to your undershirt and jeans, stretching your sore muscles.

“You can always talk to me, yaknow,” Sam says passively as he digs in his duffle, pretending to look for something. He knows you, and he knows that you aren’t openly ready to ever share your deeper feelings so he tries not to make a big deal out of it but he wants to offer his support regardless.

“You’re too kind, Sam,” your breathy voice flows out as you settle in the bed. “Just a little frustrated. Don’t worry about it,” you say, settling into the cushion. Sam wants to press but leaves it be. He cares for you and he recognizes how stupid his brother is being, but unfortunately there isn’t anything else he can do other than offer his moral support.

With lack of overthinking anxieties for the bright green eyes that stain your lids, sleep takes you easy.

———

The next morning, god is kind as she doesn’t punish you with a hangover but instead a dry mouth and the need to piss like a racehorse. With such a quick dash to the bathroom, you don’t notice Dean passed out on the couch.

Handling your business, you follow up with brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your hands and face- readying yourself for the day.

You trudge to the kitchenette sink and go through two glasses of water before slowing down and turning to finally notice Dean on the couch and Sam’s absence. Your heart nearly stops at the unexpected placement of bodies in the room and lack thereof. Dean is snoring peacefully and you don’t remember hearing him stumble back in this morning.

Last night. Ugh, you don’t want to think about whatever Dean got up to last night after leaving the bar.

It’s almost 10 am at this point and if you wanna make good time, you should probably leave soon. You hope Sam will be back in time for you to say goodbye, but you need space, bad, and don’t think you can hold out much longer.

You set the glass in the sink and head over to pack up your items. The rustling wakes up Dean.

“What time is it?” He asks with a groan, rubbing his eyes. You look over your shoulder at him, his sleepy voice rubbing you like kindling, filling you up quickly with haze smoke. You shake your head, trying to exhale the heat.

“9:54am to be exact,” you clear your throat, stacking some books of yours you had shown Sam yesterday morning sometime.

“God, this couch sucks,” he complains, sitting up with a grunt. Your lips, against your will, curl in amusement at his inconvenience.

“I’m sure your hot date had a bed comfortable enough,” the words feel like poison on your tongue. Your comment is meant to be lighthearted and ‘wing-man’-y but the silence indicates that it didn’t land.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know,” he grumbles and you feel sick, thinking of how else they made it work. The Impala? A different motel? Hell, maybe the bar bathroom. Your thoughts full-circle back to the Impala and you’re bombarded with intrusive thoughts of how many men or women he’s taken in the back of his precious possession. In the same seats you’ve traveled in.

You start to miss the warm wave of alcohol in your belly. You need to be far from this man.

You don’t entertain the comment.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, looking lazily at your items as they’re shoved loosely in your duffle that’s on its last leg.

“Thinkin’ of heading west, maybe hit the strip, try and rack up some cash,” you say, trying to remain casual.

“Sammy’s got another lead,” Dean says, confused like you had forgotten about the suspicious deaths across state.

“And you two are more than capable, I believe in you,” you look over your shoulder and scrunch your nose in a joking manner. He’s not amused.

“You can’t just ditch us,” he stands, crossing his arms over his chest. That caught you off guard.

“Ditch you?” You scoff, turning to face him. “I’m not ditching you, I just have other matters to attend to,” you argue, tilting your head in anger.

“Oh what, betting your $200 and busting? We both know you suck at gambling. You’d be better off taking a handful out a damn wishing well,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Oh shut up, I’m entitled to time for myself,” you defend, attitude spitting off of you in waves.

“‘Entitled’- that’s one word I’d use,” he squints, seething in anger. You drop your jaw and spin around, slamming items into your bag with impressive speed.

The air is thick and if your own anger wasn’t buzzing so loud in your chest you’d be able to sense his regret. You zip the bag, avoiding him on your way to the bathroom to retrieve your toiletries bag.

He calls your name as you pass him but your feet don’t react like your stuttering heart does.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, annoyed with his own burst of anger.

“Whatever, Dean,” you deadpan, grabbing your smaller bag and walking around Dean again, his eyes stay on you like a sunflower in the presence of the sun.

“Just- slow down,” he practically begs, “what is up with you?” He asks, face softened and eyes warm as he tries to figure you out.

“Nothing of your concern,” you state simply, hooking the bag on your arm and slinging the other on your back. You turn to head to the door but Dean sidesteps your track and you bump into his chest. He hands land on your biceps, steadying you. His face is mere inches from yours and you can practically taste that half handful of mints Dean chowed on on his way back to the motel- whenever that was.

“Talk to me,” it’s more of a demand, but his voice is so sweet when he says it- he practically lures it out of you.

“I can’t stand it,” your voice betrays you. Fucking betrays you as it spills out your stupid little thoughts. You snap your jaw shut and turn away, trying not to let the pebbling goosebumps from his radiating heat take over your skin. As if you could even stop them if you tried.

His head tilts and his sparkling eyes search yours. They’re like green apple Jolly Ranchers. So crystal and so sweet. You’re in it now.

“Can’t stand what?” His first concern is that he’s made you uncomfortable in some way and it makes his hold on you loosen as his confidence drains in that fear. He’s tried so unbelievably hard to make sure his feelings for you weren’t overwhelmingly obvious. He had never felt for someone like he felt for you. He didn’t want to woo you and make you melt with a simple smirk- he couldn’t, as far as he could tell. Just like he couldn’t use his charm to cover his cavern of self-loathing from your view, and he couldn’t put on the façade that he would for any other interest of his. Maybe it was respect, maybe it was fear, he just hoped it wasn’t love.

“You,” the word takes an entire lungful of breath to get out, deflating you like an exhausted pufferfish, sick of pretending to be some big-bad to deter prying eyes. Especially the emerald ones that make you salivate.

Your single word hurts him. His grip on you vanished like he was stung from the touch and he took a step back. He’s wounded.

“I just need some space,” it’s still a lungful of breath but at least this puff is more efficient than the former. He’s speechless, he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to argue- he can’t. He knows the burden he is on others and for you, of all people, to outwardly admit it really puts him in his place.

Your eyes hold so much obvious raw emotion that if anyone else but Dean could see, they’d knock him upside the head for how dense and self obsessed he’s being.

His eyes hold so much pain at the unnoticed miscommunication on your end that someone should do the same to you. If you could both get your heads out your asses and just accept the heat- this spark between you- all would settle like sand in a calm lake.

Unfortunately, it’s hurricane season and you bypass him without a second glance as you get in your car and drive until your tears cloud your vision.

———

“And then they just left,” Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He sat on a squeaky chair supplied in the kitchenette of the generously rated 2-star motel.

“Did they say why?” Sam asked, arms crossed but one lifted to gesture as he spoke.

“It’s my fault,” Dean can’t keep the pain at bay, not even to hold up the big-brother-that-can’t- be-stung persona. He’s too distraught over your words. Well, word.

“Why? What did you do?” Sam says, his shoulders slumping with a sigh of grievance. Almost like he had expected this to be Dean's fault.

He’s quiet, shuffling through his memories, trying to pinpoint when exactly he had hurt you in such a way to cause the outburst. Was it his own words?

“Just said they couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand me,” Dean leans back, looking up at the ceiling. Sam’s eyes squint, a thoughtful look clouding his eyes. Once he seems to piece it together, his arms fall and he rolls his eyes.

“Dean, you’re so dense,” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No need to hammer it in,” Dean shrugs with both his arms and a scoff.

“No, you-. Dean, think about it,” Sam presses, shifting on his feet. “Remember the officer you were talking up to get info for last week's case? How agitated they got? And what about last night- that waitress you took home. Dean, they care about you,” Sam lays it all out, hoping that Dean will actually take it how it's presented to him.

Dean just stared at Sam, not wanting to believe that all this time he’s been shoving down his feelings for you that have actually been mutual this whole time. That he had a chance and how he may have just ruined it.

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem to give his fear another thought. He needs to see you.

Dean doesn’t spare Sam an answer, jumping to his feet and darting out to the Impala, snatching the keys along with his jacket. He roars Baby to life and whips out his phone to check your location. Something the brothers made close friends agree to in case anything ever happened. Of course, this isn’t what was initially in mind when they implemented the rule.

Surprisingly, you’re only a 20 minute drive by now- some diner in the next town. He wasted no time.

Oh, by the way, one of the great skills in Dean Winchester's self-proclaimed ‘Ego Arsenal’? Cutting drives down by at least 20% in desperate situations, sometimes 30% if traffic is forgiving.

He sees your car on the far end of the lot. You’re rustling through the trunk and you look sporadic. Screeching tires alert you to the fresh presence of the Impala and your stomach flips.

“Dean?” You ask, straightening up from your trunk and hoping to seem calm and collected- as if you didn’t just get done crying your eyes out for a love that will never be in your hands.

“I’m an idiot,” Dean stumbles out of the barely parked car, not bothering with latching the door. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he’s breathing heavily but that doesn’t stop him from coming right up to you.

“What?” You ask, completely lost.

“The waitress- I couldn’t,” he shakes his head, breath hitting your face. Damn, he got close.

“Why would-?”

“I couldn’t- because of you,” his sentences are patchy but it almost seems like it’s because his thoughts are so disorganized and not due to the panting breaths.

You’re silenced. Is he blaming you? Is he upset with you? You did nothing- that you recall- that would’ve gotten in the way of him and her. You open your mouth to argue but he’s quick to eat your words as his lips crash into yours, holding you still with both hands on your face. His palms practically suffocate you with how much ground they cover but you couldn’t think enough to care.

He steps as close as he can, pressing his body into yours. His arms are at a more awkward angle for how he’s still holding you but he doesn’t seem to care. Almost afraid that if he lets go then you’ll melt through his abandoned hold and disappear from his life forever. He can’t risk it.

He kisses you until he’s breathless again, pulling away in time for his vision to not threaten giving out on him.

He plants his forehead against yours, breath dusting your face as he just takes in the way your skin ignites his own.

“Where the hell did that come from?” You finally ask, your legs a little weak and thanking god that he’s got a hold on you.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he scoffs a simple laugh with a smirk, his eyes still closed. “Just couldn’t stand it,” he teases, eyes still closed. Maybe if he doesn’t open them he won’t have to risk this being a dream.

You press your lips into his again, a sweeter kiss of adoration for his simple joke, as if you two already have your own bit.

“I’m sorry. I never even realized that-,” he sighs, finally opening his eyes and pulling away enough to fully appreciate your face. “I never realized what I felt for you was what it is.” He likes being close enough to admire the blemishes of your skin- freckles, hints of wrinkles, a scar along your temple.

“And what’s that?” You ask, face splayed with a teasing smirk but on the inside you feel like a preteen watching the bouncing bubbles that proceed a romantic text you were bold enough to send.

“Infatuation,” you’re almost convinced he invented the word on the spot with how much emotion he fit into a few syllables.

And although the look he’s dawning is pure and adorning, a neon spark behind his mossy glass shows a devious excitement. God, you’re really in it now.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest)

>>check out my other works here

>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 17)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2500

A/N: wow she's back? Hello if you're still reading thank you so much, it's been a year since I posted the NYE chapter and it's once again NYE which I consider unofficial Secret Smokes day so I'm back, I can't promise regular updates but I promise the chapters are just gonna get longer and jucier from now on. I plan to make this 20 chapters so the countdown to the end starts now. I've missed you all!

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 17, Next Chapter

Sirius opened the door with a big grin, then you saw surprise, than an even bigger grin. "Y/N!" He exclaimed hugging you.

"Hello." You said in a cheery voice slightly overwhelmed by the greeting.

"I'm so glad you came, Remus you can leave." He said as a joke stepping out the way to let you both in. Remus and Sirius did hug hello after you walked in, it warmed your heart to see Remus loved by someone. You settled in the first floor in the drawing room which had two large sofas a large fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets, and an entire wall covered with a tapestry of the Black family tree. You sat down next to Remus and Sirius sat opposite you after serving you with tea, he was excited to have you there, giddy almost. "I've been waiting for Remus to finally bring you over so we can chat." Sirius explained as he put an abnormal amount of sugar cubes in his tea. "He says he's worried someone from the order will bump into you but I think he's scared of all the embarrassing stories." Sirius explained, Remus rolled his eyes.

"You know I think you're right, but finally we have the opportunity for you to tell me everything." You replied matching Sirius's energy and shooting him a wink.

"First tell me how did you convince this loser to change his mind as no matter how hard I tried nothing worked."

"I guess I have my ways."

"She's very charming." Remus chirped in.

"Oh is she, tell me more?" Sirius said with a suggestive tone.

"Sirius, get your mind out the gutter." Remus said sternly but still in a friendly way.

"Anyway, those embarrassing stories please." You requested and Sirius's face lit up. Remus shook his head lightly, kissed you on the forehead as he stood up and walked over to the record player in the corner of the room. As Sirius began telling you a story of Remus's prank going wrong in fifth year and ending up with him burning off a part of his eyebrow. Remus flicked through the records and put on one you loved, it was a T.Rex vinyl. "You can actually still see the burn mark here." Remus said as he sat down next to you and you looked closely at his eye brow which had thinner hair in one part, you slowly examined it running your finger over it, sharing a small moment of intimacy. You moved your finger away and chanted "Tell me more, tell me more." Both the guys laughed in response. The tea soon changed to fire whiskey and the stories got juicer. It felt so comfortable sitting relaxing with the two of them. You and Sirius got increasingly drunk while Remus kept his composure however he relaxed more and more. Sirius served you some more whiskey but Remus put his hand on top of the glass signifying he doesn't want anymore and Sirius nodded in response. "Remus you bring me here and you don't even want to join in on the fun?" You teased.

"Don't be offended Y/N. He doesn't drink." Sirius remarked.

"Hm and New years was what?" You poked Remus's side teasingly.

"Correction he doesn't drink unless he's nervous and even then he won't get drunk." Sirius replied and Remus nodded while filling his glass up with some water.

"Well now you're wrong..." you began but Remus shook his head. "He's not. I wasn't drunk. Tipsy and reckless at most. But the last time I was really drunk as James and Lilly's funeral."

"So you kissed me sober?"

"Well under the influence of a little fire whiskey and a lot of testosterone."

"You drank as much as me!" You accused him confused as to how he could've remained sober.

"He's a wolf." Sirius said and howled jokingly. At that moment Remus jokingly made a wild sound before pouncing on you to tease you and pretending to bite you before pecking your cheek.

"Oh Merlin I'm so lonely." Sirius sighed dramatically. And you and Remus rolled your eyes. "Y/N do you have any cute friends?" Sirius began.

"Stop it old man." Remus remarked beginning another round of teasing between the two men.

You were laying down on the sofa with your legs draped over Remus's as your back rested on the arm of the sofa, his hand was lightly stroking your leg in a loving manner and the cure played in the background. It was a song you particularly liked and due to the confidence caused from the uncountable glasses of fire whiskey you began to quietly sing along as Remus and Sirius debated something stupid. "I don't care if Monday's blue Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too Thursday, I don't care about you." You sang quietly to yourself under your breath

"It's Friday, I'm in love" Remus joined in quietly almost a whisper, he glanced at you and you both shared a smile as he gently squeezed your leg where his hand was resting.

"Oh you guys are gonna make me throw up, I'm so lonely." Sirius sighed dramatically, making you and Remus blush this time but by this point in the night all sense of embarrassment had left your body and there was enough public displays of affection, then there was a knock on the door downstairs. "Ooo pizza." Sirius said excitedly and jumped up.

"Do you need help carrying it up?" Remus asked.

"No just don't do anything on my sofa while I'm downstairs." Sirius said with a wink.

"I can't promise anything." Remus whispered to you as soon as Sirius left the room. The alcohol was pulsing through your bodies, yours more than his as he hadn't had a sip of alcohol in about a hour, but the ease of the evening made you feel ever so infatuated by Remus. He moved closer to kiss you slowly. "I really care about you." He whispered.

"I care about you too." You whispered back.

"Thank you for coming here with me."

"Thank you for finally letting me in." You whispered back and he pecked your lips once more before going back to sit in the same position.

"I don't know what I was scared of, this is one of the best evenings I've had in a very long time."

"Me too, Sirius is lovely, and funny. I understand why you're friends." You said.

"He's great, I'm lucky to have him."

"And he's lucky to have you."

"You know when I first met Sirius I thought-" Remus began before you heard Sirius arguing with someone. "Hold on-" he said.

"Everything okay."

"Shh." He said and you both went silent. It was two male voices one was Sirius the other was familiar, a low tone and slow speech. You began to hear a quick walk up the stairs followed by Sirius. Remus quickly moved your legs off of him and moved to the other sofa as at the very moment Snape stormed through the door. "What do we have here?" Miss L/N outside school property, drinking. With a Hogwarts professor?"

"Snivellus, why have you stormed into my bloody house?" Sirius walked through the door annoyed.

"Well apparently you're busy drinking with a student."

"Not my student, I'm not a teacher." Sirius said sarcastically, Remus looked angry and frozen you didn't know what to do you just kept looking at Remus for support avoiding eye contact with Snape.

"Lupin, a man with your condition sleeping with students is not very wise." Remus didn't say anything he stood up to say something but at that very moment Sirius spoke.

"Why have you stormed into my house on a Friday evening? To make up some illusions to help your life be a little less miserable?" Sirius walked closer to Snape, it looked like Remus and Sirius were both ready to punch Snape. You had a lump in your throat, you were half expecting to wake up from this nightmare at any moment.

"Dumbledore called an emergency meeting, and if you haven't forgotten this is the headquarters for the order."

"Doesn't justify you walking through my house?"

"I had to check what you were hiding up here. I look forward to hearing how your furry friend will talk his way out of this one." Snape said with a vile tone.

"There's nothing to talk out of, it's Friday evening and I'm having a drink with my friends, shoot me." Sirius snapped, thank god Sirius was here.

"You're awfully quiet." Snape said turning around to face Lupin.

"There's nothing to say, I'm here for the meeting like you are."

"With a Hogwarts student smelling like alcohol?" Snape said accusingly.

"I can't help if she's friends with Sirius or not." Lupin said sitting down and talking another sip of his drink which was luckily water as he acted as if nothing is wrong. You looked down at the floor. Another knock on the door was heard. "Pizza! Snape you're welcome to leave." Sirius said before running downstairs. "Miss L/N I was wondering how your grades went up so quickly-"

"Oh fuck off." Remus slammed his glass on the table, stood up and in that moment Snape was hit with a stunner. He pulled his wand out and Remus disarmed him in a second. At this moment Dumbledore walked into the room, Remus was disarmed and had a look of horror on his face as he knew he had fucked up.

"Gentlemen, please stand up and explain yourselves."

"Well only one isn't standing." Sirius chipped in standing behind Dumbledore looking at Snape on the floor.

"Thank you Mr Black, I am aware." Dumbledore replied.

"I just wanted to say as far as duels go there's an obvious winner." Sirius continued. Remus's eyes were glued to the floor like a school boy who's been told off. "Remus, when you stand like that you remind me of when you were miss L/N age." Dumbledore mentioned shooting you a glance. "Now would you like to explain yourselves as to the disturbance?"

"Professor, I believe I have caught Professor Lupin doing inappropriate activities with a Hogwarts student."

"You believe?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Well yes, they were both alone here smelling of alcohol."

"Excuse me I was here too." Sirius interrupted.

"Therefore they weren't alone." Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"But Miss L/N is a Hogwarts student outside campus without permission." Snape argued.

"I see she is escorted here with Professor Lupin." Dumbledore said calmly sitting down and pouring himself a drink using wandless magic.

"But they've been drinking." Snape continued.

"Well everyone here is legally an adult and it's Friday night, what else would you expect? Besides I see a glass of water right here." Dumbledore pointed to Remus's glass.

"I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore, but I don't understand how you can be so relaxed about this. We're meant to have a meeting and we find a student drinking with her professor outside Hogwarts grounds how are you allowing this?" Snape kept protesting.

"I do agree that Miss L/N shouldn't have left Hogwarts grounds during term time however she's an adult and thankfully she did have a guardian with her. Unfortunately, I'm sorry Miss L/N Professor Snape does have a point, I'm going to have to give you detention in Professor Lupin's office on Monday for leaving Hogwarts with no notice."

"And you're not punishing the teacher who allowed the student to leave?" Snape asked.

"Well I am making him run the detention aren't I?" Dumbledore asked.

"I can't believe you are so relaxed about this they are obviously involved with each other in some way."

"Whatever may happen outside Hogwarts grounds between adults does not concern me, I have no reason to believe anything inappropriate is happening in the hallways or corridors of Hogwarts."

A knock again on the door. "I hope it's pizza this time." Sirius said in a tired tone as he walked away.

"I'll escort Y/N back to Hogwarts I'm sorry professor." Remus said standing up.

"Perfect problem solved don't you think Professor Snape?" Dumbledore said with a smile. Snape did not respond. "Now let's head downstairs for that pizza." Words you never thought you would hear Dumbledore say. While waking downstairs you saw Sirius thanking the mildly concerned pizza man for it being him this time, it made you finally relax for the first time all evening. Remus walked in front of you without a word, when he reached the bottom of the stairs he simply announced. "I will be back shortly Headmaster." Before grabbing your arm and taking you back to Hogwarts. He walked you to your dorm room, there he spoke his first words to you. "I need to go. I'm sorry." And just like that he turned around and left.

You knocked on Remus's office door the next morning. You were greeted by a tired face and a slouched body, he looked alike the night after a full moon but you knew the next one was still quite a while away.

"Can we talk?" You asked and he nodded stepping aside to let you in.

"Tea?" His words were weak.

"No thank you." You said, not sitting down. "Are you going to loose your job?" You asked blatantly trying to keep a firm and controlled tone.

"No, I don't think so." He said over his shoulder while closing the door and making sure to lock it.

"Does Dumbledore know?"

"I believe he's known for quite a while." Remus ran his hand through his hair.

"But he doesn't care?"

"He made it seem like he doesn't see an issue with it as long as it doesn't affect my teaching or your learning." Remus explained.

"So business as usual? We're okay?"

"No... I'm afraid not Y/N." He said finally sitting down in his chair.

"Why? Everything is okay. Worst case scenario happened and it's all okay." You reasoned standing on the opposite side of the desk.

"Y/N we have flown too close to the sun. I am a fool for taking you there yesterday I put us in danger."

"Remus don't be-"

"I'm not being anything but honest."

"Remus the only issue here is your own fears, and it seems as though the reality is not as bad as you were afraid. Snape knows, Dumbledore knows. And you're still here, I'm still here. You didn't get fired. No one cares, why can't you let yourself be happy this one time?"

"Because when I feel happy, I let me guard down and every time, every single time something bad happens. I didn't want you to go see Sirius because I knew when it happens something bad will follow but I couldn't resist. And just like that not only Snape but Dumbledore and the whole order showed up."

"And we're okay why can't you see that? Neither of us are in trouble don't run away from a good thing when you have the chance to enjoy it."

Remus shut his eyes and rubbed his temple with his hand. No words came.

"I can't keep going through this back and forth, you need to stop hating yourself so much you're being an asshole." You snapped.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Do you know what hurts me? One day sitting in your office holding your hand and feeling happy, then the next you ignoring me in the corridors, than suddenly listening to vinyls on your best friends sofa to once again you telling me you want to start ignoring me again."

"It hurts me too."

"You have the power to stop it Remus. Just accept that we both like each other and allow it."

"I like you very much you know that." He pleaded.

"You have a pretty awful way of showing it." You confessed allowing your anger to show.

"I'm an old man."

"Ancient." You rolled your eyes. "I don't care."

"Your reputation will be tarnished."

"Tarnish it." You didn't break eye contact.

"I want you to be able to enjoy your youth, live it to the fullest."

"And a high school romance with my teacher isn't living to the fullest? Do you know how many other girls would die to touch you the way I do." His cheeks flushed red.

"The novelty will wear off girl, you'll get bored of me."

"Then let me get bored." You said leaning on his desk in front of him as he stayed sat on his chair. You were looking down at him and he was looking up at you, his legs spread wide under the desk.

"Darling are you forgetting what I am?"

"A hot professor with low self esteem?"

He laughed rolling his eyes and nodding. "A wolf." He made a howling side and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him so now you were sitting on his legs starring intently into each other's eyes.

"You know very well that I'm not scared of wolves."

"My body is covering in scars." He broke eye contact.

"I know. And I find them all very attractive." You kissed the one on his neck that was peeking over his shirt collar.

"You know there's stigma that comes with dating a werewolf, people don't like people like me."

"Perfect filter for bigots, if they don't respect you, I don't want them in my life. And now Mr are you finished with the self loathing?"

"I've got a little left in me." He said playfully and you crashed your lips into his. "I'm finished we can move on to the part where I show you all the scars I hate."

"Perfect." You began to unbutton his shirt kissing his chest.

64.media.tumblr.com

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

A/N: sorry for the angst I had to do it.

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[croworro]

Can you write a short schlatt fic in which the fem!reader confesses her feelings to him on stream or on the SDP -- but totally on accident? And of course he returns her feelings (either on off camera. You choose) Thanks boo!

Accidental Confessions

Pairing: Jschlatt x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none really

Summary: During a chaotic Phasmophobia stream, Schlatt’s relentless flirting leaves you flustered and questioning what’s real.

A/N: hope this is everything you were hoping for!! I’m actually so happy with how this turned out hehe

Your streaming sessions with Jschlatt had become a highlight of your week, and apparently, a highlight for thousands of viewers. What started as a one-off collaboration turned into a weekly tradition that fans clamored for. Schlatt’s relentless teasing, sharp wit, and surprisingly endearing moments always made for entertaining streams.

Tonight’s game was Phasmophobia, you reluctantly agreed to play after weeks of Schlatt goading you on Twitter.

“You ready to cry on stream?” Schlatt’s voice came through your headset as you joined the Discord call.

“More like ready to carry you,” you shot back, smirking as you adjusted your mic.

“Carry me?” Schlatt barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t carry a flashlight without tripping over yourself.”

“Bold words from someone who hides in the van at the first sign of danger,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see that chat was already in chaos:

[Chat]:

• “Here we go again with the bickering couple.”

• “Schlatt’s flirting is so painfully obvious, omg.”

• “They’re gonna kill each other before the ghost does.”

The game loaded, and Schlatt’s teasing began almost immediately.

“Alright, chat,” he said, his tone smug. “Place your bets: How long before Y/N panics and accidentally gets me killed?”

“First of all, I don’t panic,” you said, grabbing the ghost detector. “Second, if you die, it’s probably because you’re too busy flirting with the chat to pay attention.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I was flirting, you’d know it,” Schlatt said, his voice dropping into a playful drawl that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Your face heated, but you forced a laugh. “Good thing I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, his smirk practically audible.

You busied yourself with the game, trying to ignore the way his voice lingered in your mind. The two of you explored the haunted house, with Schlatt cracking jokes and occasionally pretending to be scared just to make you jump.

“Y/N, the ghost’s name is Lisa. Think you can charm her into leaving us alone?” Schlatt asked as you stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m bad with women,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Fine,” you said, playing along. “Lisa, you’re a beautiful, independent ghost who doesn’t need to haunt this house anymore. Go find some peace, girl.”

Schlatt laughed so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “Unbelievable. Chat, clip that. I need to save it for when Y/N tries to say she’s the serious one here.”

[Chat]:

• “I CAN’T WITH THESE TWO.”

• “Lisa’s shaking right now.”

• “Schlatt’s laugh gives me life.”

The game progressed, with Schlatt alternating between teasing you and pretending to be scared. When the ghost appeared out of nowhere, he let out a yell and ran, leaving you alone in the dark.

“Schlatt, you coward!” you screamed, clicking you keyboard keys frantically and fumbling for a hiding spot.

“Every man for himself!” he shouted from the safety of the van.

When the ghost finally disappeared, you stormed out of the house and into the van, glaring at Schlatt’s character.

“You are the worst teammate,” you said.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” he replied, his grin evident in his tone.

You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he added, his voice softer now.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you ignored it, focusing back on the game.

By the time the ghost finally killed Schlatt, you were too frustrated to even pretend to feel bad.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend half the game messing around, you wouldn’t keep dying,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you care about me?” Schlatt asked, his tone teasing but his words making your stomach flip.

“Of course I care about you, but I care more about winning,” you said quickly, not even thinking about what you had said.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly. Your eyes widened quickly when you realized what you had said.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“Nah, nah, you said something,” he pressed. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

The chat went wild:

[Chat]:

• “WAIT WHAT DID SHE SAY???”

• “CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS.”

• “Schlatt, stop bullying her, omg.”

You groaned, ending the game and pulling up your stream controls. “Alright, chat, that’s it for tonight. Goodnight, everyone.”

The protests from viewers were immediate, but you ignored them, ending the stream and ripping off your headset. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Schlatt: Call me.

You stared at the message, debating whether to respond. Finally, you sighed and hit the call button.

“Bit of an abrupt ending, don’t you think?” Schlatt said as soon as he picked up, his tone light but probing.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “But seriously, what’s was that about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. Schlatt’s teasing was usually easy to brush off, but tonight felt different—more personal.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you’re not joking, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“What if I’m not joking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “Don’t mess with me, Schlatt.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Y/N, I’m not joking. I flirt with you because I like you. Hell, everyone in chat sees it. I thought you did too.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process his words. “I didn’t want to assume,” you admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “I like you, sweetheart. I have for a while.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “You sure know how to make a confession dramatic.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “So… what do you say?”

“I think we should play another game,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Another game?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” you said. “But this time, you’re not leaving me to die.”

Schlatt laughed, his usual confidence returning. “Deal. But if you keep calling me a coward, I might have to change my mind about liking you.”

“Too late,” you teased. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

[flickering-chandelier]

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Cassian is fed up with Rhysand x Reader beating around the bush and helps them get together.

Word Count: 2.5k

You would certainly not consider yourself to be a jealous person. In fact, you rather prided yourself in your ability to keep a level head and look at a situation from every possible angle, giving people the benefit of the doubt before you would jump to conclusions.

And really, there was no reason for you to be jealous. The High Lord had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go, and he admittedly had become your closest friend. You knew he cared for you in his own way. But, that was just it. You were friends… nothing more. Although he flirted with you shamelessly, you knew he didn’t mean any of it. You were endlessly polite, unable to bring yourself to even attempt to flirt back. 

Yet, as you watched him mingle at Mor’s favorite club in Velaris, watched how heads turned as Rhys walked through the crowd, saw the twinkle in the eyes of every woman he talked to…let’s just say that you were keenly aware that every eye was on him and that he hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction for the past thirty minutes.

“He’s not interested in them, you know,” Cassian said as he settled in beside you, passing one of the drinks in his hand to you.

“Hmm?” you said, finally tearing your gaze from Rhysand, stirring your drink absently with your straw.

Cassian snorted. “Rhys. He’s not interested in any of those people flocking him.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference, gingerly taking a sip of your drink. “Okay?” 

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been watching him all night, like you always do when we’re out and about,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I do not-”

“You do,” Cassian cut in. “Just admit to yourself that you’re in love with him, will you? I think you’ll be way less miserable. Even better, admit it to him.”

You gaped at him, your mouth forming a small o as you tried desperately to form a response that wasn’t humiliating. “I am not in love with him. He’s -- he’s Rhys, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend who saved your life,” Cassian offered, smiling cockily.

You drew your mouth into a thin line. “Well, yes. Of course he means a lot to me. But anyway, I’m not miserable.”

You turned away from him, frustrated, and faced forward, where you practically had a front row seat to watch a beautiful High Fae whispering in Rhys’s ear, his smile sensual, his hand at her waist.

Cassian looked at you thoughtfully for a moment. “You look pretty miserable. You look like you hate that woman he’s with. And I’ve never known you to hate anybody.”

You sighed, turning to face Cassian once again. “I don’t hate her. I… I think I’m mad at myself.” You thought about all those times Rhys had flirted with you, given you that lazy, sexy smirk… and you had done absolutely nothing, too scared to admit to him or yourself what those little moments had done to you. You paused, not wanting to admit it, but knowing that Cassian had opened the door for you to finally talk about your feelings for the High Lord. “I think you may be right. I think I may love him. But what does it matter? I can’t do anything about it.”

Cassian seemed taken aback. “What -- are you blind? What do you mean you can’t do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? He’s the High Lord, and he and I are so different. He would never want me.”

“Once again, I raise the question, are you blind? Have you not noticed the way he looks at you? How often he looks at you? Or how often he flirts with you? Or how angry he gets at me when I flirt with you?

You shook your head, swirling your straw around again for a distraction. “You’re out of your mind. He hasn’t looked at me once since we got here! And he’s angry at you all the time, that has nothing to do with me.”

Cassian laughed. “You don’t think maybe he’s unaware that you’re interested? You’ve never once entertained his flirting, never tried to tell him how you feel. I think he genuinely has no idea if you see him that way or not. Maybe he’s trying to give you space to come to him, when you’re ready.”

Twisting in your seat again to face away from Cassian, you glanced up and noticed that Rhys was staring right at you, his expression unreadable, and the woman talking to him seemingly forgotten. You quickly glanced away, not knowing how to feel anymore.

“Trust me,” Cassian leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I’ve known Rhys for a long time. He wants you. He wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything.”

“I--” a blush rushed to your cheeks as you stared at Cassian, completely lost for words. It couldn’t be true, could it? But you knew Cassian would never lie to you, especially not about something like this.

“You better pick your chin up off the floor, because he’s on his way over,” Cassian whispered to you, his smile teasing.

Before you could do anything, Rhysand was before you both, his eyes shooting between you and Cassian. His smile was easy but his eyes had a hint of something else, like he wasn’t sure what to make of the two of you right then. 

“Cassian, what have you been saying to the poor darling to make her blush like that?” Rhysand said with the hint of an edge to his voice, his violet eyes fixing on you.

“You know me, Rhys, always stirring up trouble,” Cassian grinned,squeezing your shoulder for a moment before standing up and downing his drink in one gulp. “You know what? I think it would be best if she told you all about it on her own. I’ll see you guys later,” he said, shooting you a wink before sauntering off.

Rhysand watched him go before his eyes landed back on you. “If you need me to beat him up, just say the word.” 

You laughed, feeling slightly nervous about being alone with him for the first time you could remember. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He gazed down at you, and took your hand in his, gently pulling until you were standing. “Dance with me, darling?” he purred, just as a slow, beautiful song started playing.

“Of course,” you said quietly, trying not to flush as he led you to a quiet corner of the floor, gently guiding your body close to his.

Rhysand’s touch was gentle, as it always was with you. He had a hand at your waist, idly running his thumb back and forth over the thin fabric of your dress, while his other was holding yours. He was so much taller than you and he was holding you so close that when he spoke you had to crane your neck to look up at him. 

“Are you alright? You seem… upset,” he murmured, gazing down at you with those twinkling eyes.

You felt your cheeks warm, remembering what Cassian had said, remembered Rhysand’s hand on that woman’s waist only minutes ago, and cursed yourself for it. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to sound like it was true. “I’m just a little tired, I think.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You know you can tell me anything,” he murmured. 

You tensed, your fingers tightening on his hand, his shoulder. You averted your gaze, unable to stomach the way he could read you like a book. “I don’t know if that’s true,” you whispered, barely audible over the music and the crowd, but you knew he had heard it.

The look he gave you was of pure concern. “What do you mean? Have -- Have I done something?”

Quickly, you shook your head, eyes daring to meet his again. “No! It’s just... You’re the High Lord. You’ve got a whole court to worry about. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

Rhys scanned your face, his eyes softening. Quietly, so unbelievably quietly he said, “you have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you are to me.”

“What--” 

Before you could finish, he asked, “Will you go for a walk with me?”

You hesitated, trying to read his expression. He looked almost like he was in pain, like if you said no, it would be a tragedy. “Okay,” you said, tentatively, almost a question.

Smoothly placing his hand on the small of your back, he guided you through the crowd to the door. Cassian caught your eye and grinned, his eyebrows shooting up into a question as his gaze flicked to Rhys. You swore you could feel Rhysand roll his eyes next to you.

Once you were outside, you took a deep breath of the crisp night air, and looked up to the sky, watching the stars twinkling, trying to ground yourself before whatever was about to happen.

You felt Rhysand’s eyes on you as he took your hand, wordlessly leading you through the City of Starlight. It was unusually quiet tonight; you two were the only people around as he stopped on the bridge looking out across the river and perched his elbows on the railing, gazing out.

It took you a moment to work up the nerve, but you settled in next to him, your arms almost touching, but not quite. 

After a few moments of silence, Rhysand murmured, “you were so broken when we met. You were so alone, and all I wanted was to give you a home. It broke my heart every day to look at you during those first months.”

Try as you might, you could not think of anything to say for a long moment. Eventually you settled on, “you did give me a home, Rhys. And a family. You saved me. You gave me everything.” 

He let out a humorless laugh, still gazing out at the river. “I wanted to give you more,” he said quietly.

You felt your breath catch. “What do you mean?”

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes on fire like you’ve never seen them before. “I need you to tell me the truth. Please,” he said, his voice wavering in a way that nearly broke your heart in two. He sounded like the words hurt him. “Who am I to you? Am I just your friend? Just your High Lord? Is that all I’ve ever been?”

In this moment, there was no trace of the vibrato and easy smugness that he always wore around. He was vulnerable, pleading, and it made you wonder how many times he had wanted to ask you that question. You knew you could be ruining everything, but finally you whispered, “No. I-- I never wanted you to just be those things.”

He took a step toward you, his hand gently tilting your chin up to look at him. He murmured, “What is it that you want, darling?” 

The breath rushed from your lungs. You felt like you were drowning as he looked down at you, his eyes so intense, his breathing uneven, yet still remaining so gentle where he touched you. “I want…” you gulped, trying to find the courage necessary to get the words out. “I want you.”

Rhys’s eyes widened, his breath stopped entirely. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him as he leaned down to kiss you, tentatively at first, as if he didn’t want to scare you off. You let out an involuntary noise, almost a squeak, and after a moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. 

He groaned quietly, and as his tongue slipped into your mouth, it all clicked into place. You felt it, the tug between the two of you, as if your very souls were connected. Because… maybe they were.

With a jolt, you took a step back, your hands sliding down to grasp Rhysand’s considerable biceps. He looked slightly terrified. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, eyes raking your body as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

You could barely get the words out, feeling like your throat was constricted. “Are you… my mate?”

Rhysand’s expression of pain and concern turned into a slow, seductive half smile that you knew so well. “It’s about time you caught up.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as he pulled you to him once again, gently brushing your hair out of your face and gazing at you with so much love, you felt like you might collapse. 

You looked at him as he steadied you, a silent question in your eyes.

“I’ve known since the moment I saw you. Felt the ground shake beneath my feet, felt the tug in my chest immediately, like nothing else mattered anymore. Nothing but you.”

You couldn't help it. You smacked his chest and he let out a soft grunt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes softened again, tinged with pain and maybe a little guilt as he looked at you. “You had never had a choice in anything before you met me. I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t deny me. And you had so much to deal with… I didn’t want to add to your plate or confuse you. I just wanted you to heal. And I hoped and dreamed and wished to the stars that one day you would figure it out. That you would love me back.” 

Suddenly, tears burst from your eyes, running down your cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb, so gently you wanted to cry even more. “I always loved you back,” you choked out. 

He grinned, pulling you into him tightly, kissing the top of your head with a contented sigh. “It sounds like we have to make up for a lot of lost time then,” he purred. 

You tilted your chin up to kiss him, wishing you could do it forever, and realizing with a start that you had your entire immortal life ahead of you with him. With your mate. 

As you pulled away, you mumbled, “Cassian is never going to let me live this down.”

Rhysand growled, his hands tensing on your waist. “He’s the one that pushed you into my arms tonight, is he?” 

You nodded, relishing the feeling of his arms around you, and wondering if you would ever get used to it. “Did he know?”

Rhys seemed to contemplate for a moment. “I think he figured it out. He knows me too well. I didn’t tell him, though. I didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut,” he smirked. 

The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, and Rhys smirked, giving you a look that could only mean he was undressing you with his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Cassian anymore,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“Me either,” you breathed.

Rhys laughed seductively, gripping you tightly, before unfurling his wings and shooting you into the sky in one movement, no doubt racing you to the townhouse to do what he had been dreaming about for so, very long.

[aothotties]

Sneaky Link w/ Reiner

Warnings: MDNI, Swearing, Reiner is rough, public sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, praise, pet names, creampie, Reiner is a pantie thief.

Word count: 853

_________

You sat at the party drinking and talking with your friends. You had decided to come to Eren’s party but unfortunately you had to go separate from your boyfriend.

You and Reiner had been dating for months but decided not to tell the friend group so you wouldn't make it awkward.

He came to the party later and you couldn't lie he looked so damn good. But you tried to make sure you weren’t staring.

As the night went on you kept drinking and dancing with your friends. Eventually you were approached by someone.

After talking for a minute you learned his name was Floch.

“So how do you know Eren?” he asked.

“We met in college” you responded.

Floch was flirting HARD and you tried your best to keep the conversation casual.

“So does a pretty girl like you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

You wanted to tell him yes, because you did, but Eren was standing close and you were scared he would hear and start asking too many questions.

“Um, no, im single” you responded while looking away knowing damn well you were lying.

Before he could respond Eren stepped in and saved the day.

“Floch leave her alone, she doesn't want you” he said while grabbing his shoulder.

“I think she can answer for her self” he responded.

“I'm actually not interested” you said with an awkward smile.

Floch looked defeated and walked away with his head down, you felt bad but you were taken.

Throughout the night you and reiner kept sneaking little stares at each other but you had to keep is cute and not get caught.

You slipped away from the party for a bit to head to the bathroom. After you were done you walked back down the hallway and tried to head back, but instead you were being pulled into a room.

At first you were scared and thought maybe it was Floch and you were ready to fight

But as you were about to throw the first punch your boyfriend stood in front of you.

He pushed you against the wall and his lips crashed onto yours.

He was kissing you passionately, his tongue slipped into your mouth and intertwined with yours. His large hands were all over your body, messing up your dress.

“Fuck you look so good tonight princess” he said inbetween kisses.

“You look good too baby. Way too damn good” you said as you wrapped one of your legs around his waist.

“Ive been thinking about ripping this dress off you all night” he said as his hand traveled up your thigh.

“So rip it off” you said plainly.

That was the last thing you remember before Reiner fucked your brains out in this random room.

“Yeah , right there daddy!” you whined.

He had you bent over the dresser in the room. Your dress was bunched up at your waist and your panties were around your ankles.

Reiner was fucking you into the dresser. His hips were snapping at a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

“You feel so good princess” he said as he bullied into you.

You moans were loud and you were secretly thanking the stars for the loud music.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you reached back to push Reiner a little bit but he twisted your arm and pinned it behind your back.

He picked up his speed and you felt his tip brushing your cervix.

Your thighs started shaking and you knew you were close to cumming. Reiner knew you were close and started going even faster causing you to quickly release all over his thighs.

“Good girl” he praised.

He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you against his chest, the new angle had his dick hitting your g-spot.

“Baby -fuck- I-I’m gonna cum again” you moaned.

“Yeah baby, cum for me again” he responded.

You were on cloud 9, the alcohol mixed with the pleasure had you in a trance. Before you knew it that knot formed in your stomach again.

“About to c-cum baby” you whined.

Reiner didn’t respond and just kept fucking you, you could feel him twitch inside of you and knew he was close as well.

“Cum on me princess, make a mess for me” he said while his other hand wrapped around your throat.

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. The knot snapped and you came again all over your boyfriend.

This drove Reiner insane, he bent you back over the dresser and grabbed your hips. His grip left marks in your skin.

“Need to feel it inside me baby cum in me” you said as you turned your head to look in his eyes.

He groaned in response and threw his head back.

You felt his warm seed shoot inside of you and fill you until it dripped out. He slipped out of you and took your panties off.

“Let it drip out of you, show Floch that this pussy is taken.” he said before kissing you on the forehead and walking you out the room.

Rachel

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Darkness

Mark Hoffman x afab!Reader

details: smut, disgusting street men hitting on reader, lots of flirting, mild biting, oral f!receiving, Mark's constant use of "fuck", unprotected sex, cream pie (please wear protection), Mark low-key being into you calling him detective????, kinda possessive Hoffman

word count: 3,550

a/n: me? late to writing a fic i promised months ago? never lmao. requests are open for more Hoffman fics, I am very excited to write for him

~~~

Loud music, too many people talking, and the smell of alcohol overwhelmed your senses.

You sat at the dim lit bar, slumped over the counter spinning the straw in the drink you did not even finish. Your two friends who you had met here earlier in the night had their backs to you. They had gotten comfortable with two strangers at the bar. Flirting with slurred words from a little too much alcohol was the standard with them.

It was deep into the night, anything besides the bar was closed. You decided you were done with the night out. You tapped your friend closest to you, "I'm heading home. Shoot me a text so I know you make it safe." She nodded still entranced by the man in front of her, "Oh-Okay. See ya'." You threw some cash down on the counter and grabbed your bag.

You squinted your eyes at the bright street lamp directly outside of the bar. It was completely black out other than the lights every few feet. Couples attempting casual hookups, people throwing up surrounded by their friends, and other bar dwellers decorated the streets outside. You tried not to look at anyone in particular, but a group of suspicious looking men caught your eye. Eye contact with one of the members was the biggest mistake of the night. You began walking faster down the street, your bag clutched as firm as possible in your hands.

"Oh- Hey, beautiful!" One of the men approached you from behind. Chills of disgust painted up your arms.

"We saw you checking us out. We can help you home~" Another man stepped in front of you under the street lamp.

You tried your hardest to keep walking forward, ignoring them.

"What's the problem, sweetheart? Don't you want some gentlemen to help you out tonight?" A third at your side. You halted under the brightest light you could find as the fourth man joined them. You were surrounded. With no where else to go, you backed into the pole. "I can make it myself," your voice cracked slightly. You were begging, pleading with the universe for some form of an escape from the situation you were in. A lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to dance at your eyelids. You were scared.

"Don't get shy, sweetheart. We can take care of you tonight."

They were closing in on you. Your mind was racing for a way out. One of them swatted at the bag in your hand, missing the bag but grabbing the strap. You held on with all your might as he pulled. "Just give me the bag, skank!"

The sound of tires behind you made your heart sink. You were sure this was it, they were going to take you off somewhere. Never to be seen again.

"Do you know these guys?" A rugged voice came from the car. You heard the door open and slam, followed by footsteps behind you. The guy in front of you finally released his grip on your bag, his hands throwing up in the air. You stumbled back slightly, bumping into the man from the car as he was directly behind you. His hand went to your shoulder helping you stabilize, "Are you okay?" You nodded with flushed cheeks.

"Listen, we were just trying to help this chick home. No need to get serious," one of the guys spoke.

"Go ahead and crawl back to where you came from before this does get serious," the man from the car spoke sternly, flashing the gun on his hip at them. The entire group ran off into the night.

Your breath you had been holding in finally released. Your hands were shaking ever so slightly. The man stepped in front of you, looking around for any sign of a group you may have been separated from. He finally turned to face you. You felt your face flush with heat at how handsome he was.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone this late at night?"

"I just left my friends. I just wanted to get home," your hands rubbed up and down your arms. Your eyes scanned over his entire body. He was obviously a cop of some kind. There was also no ring in site. His broad chest and chiseled face made heat flood your body.

"I can take you home. Miss..?"

"Y/N L/N. And you?"

"Detective Hoffman," he held up his badge for you to see, "But you can call me Mark."

Mark led you to his passenger side, opening the door and helping you in. Walking around the vehicle, he joined you inside. You buckled as the car began off. "Just tell me how to get there," he looked over at you.

The ride was silent. Nothing but the whirring of the cars vents and the occasional bump on the road. Each lamp you passed lit up your face as you stared out the window. Mark's eyes stayed straight on the road, one hand on the wheel the other at his side.

"I forgot to say thank you," you broke the silence. His gaze shot over to you, "It's nothing." You smiled at him slightly.

"So, Detective," you spoke with a tease on your tone, "What kind of cases are you working on?"

"You know I can't disclose that to you," he stared at you momentarily.

"Oh, come on! Homicide detective? In this city? I know you've got something good!"

Mark huffed. The car slowly approached a traffic light. Mark's eyes now could not get off of you.

His eyes examined you fully. He noticed how nonchalant you were being with him, as if you had known each other longer than tonight. Your body and legs leaning towards him showing your trust for him. His gaze wandered down to your exposed thighs. The outfit you had wore was not necessarily revealing, just short around the legs. He had to fight the place his mind wanted to go.

Silence returned to the vehicle. You leaned closer to Mark, "Is there anything I can do to say thank you, Detective?" Your hand flattened against the middle console in an attempt to be closer to him. He rolled his shoulders waiting for the light to change. "O-of course not," he choked, "I am just doing my job."

Mark turned his head to look at you better. Red from the light illuminated both your faces in the dark. You swore you had never seen anyone as handsome in this moment.

Green.

Both of you looked forward at the sudden chance, acting as if the moment you had just shared never happened.

The car came to a halt in front of your apartment building. You stared out the window wishing this car ride could last forever. "Well this is me," you shot a smile over at him. Mark stared at you with hooded eyes. Heat flushed every inch of you.

"Thank you, Detect- Mark... thank you, Mark," you looked at him one last time before starting to open your door. His hand gripped you, "Let me walk you inside so I know you make it safe."

Mark got out of the car and walked around, opening your door for you. He extended his hand to you, helping you out of the car. You mumbled a thanks as you stepped up on the sidewalk. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. Your body wanted him badly. It longed for more than a simple shoulder touch, or grasp of a hand.

You led him into the elevator of your building. Clicking the button for a silent trip up. The ding of each passing floor rang in your ears. Mark stared up at the numbers as they passed, looking over at you every few seconds between. You both jumped slightly as the door opened abruptly. You showed him down the hall to your door.

"Here we are," you leaned your back up against the door. Mark's eyes silently looked you up and down. His pupils were completely blown, his shoulders heavy, and his chest heaving slightly. He looked around the completely empty hallway, "I'm glad to get you home safe."

"Y-Yeah! I can't thank you enough," you blushed when his eyes met yours again. His lip curled into a sort of smirk seeing you flustered. You felt your entire body rush with heat. You stared down at your feet, almost too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

"Well. I'm going to head back out. Have a good night, Y/N," Mark began to walk back towards the elevator.

"Mark?"

He turned around quickly to look at you.

"Do you want to come inside?"

Mark's eyes darkened with your question. His eyes darted around momentarily before rushing over to join you. Hands ghosting down your sides as you turn to get your key in the door. His broad chest was pressed firmly against your back. Chills painted every inch of your body, heat rushing straight to your core. His lips pressed against your ear, "I didn't think you were gonna ask."

Your face grew completely red hot, your hands fumbling with your keys. You wanted inside your apartment so bad, but Mark had you flustered and you could not focus. He rested his chin on your shoulder, "What is it, Y/N? I can help you with the keys since you can't focus." His hand snaked up your arm, wrapping itself around yours to steady it. Guiding it into the lock with ease, he turned it for you. "There you go. Good girl," he growled in your ear. You were puddy in his hands.

You opened the door, leading him into the dark apartment. Mark pulled you flush against his chest, his hands going around your waist. The only glow on his face came from the illuminated numbers on the microwave. It lit his eyes beautifully. His breath was hot against you, his eyes staring as heavily into yours as possible.

"You do this with every girl you rescue off the street?" You teased him.

"Do you do this with every man who rescues you late at night?" Mark chuckled, his hands gliding up and down your curves.

You bit your lip, staring heavily into what little of his eyes you could see. "If they all looked as good as you, I probably would," you taunted him.

"Oh, yeah?" Mark's tone was dark. His lips slipped onto your neck. You threw your head back giving him better access. He decorated your skin with sloppy kisses leading up to your ear, "None of them would make you feel as good as I will."

Instant heat. The growl on his tone made your stomach do a flip. You ran your hands up his chest, playing with his tie. He took in a deep breath, his chest tightening with your touch. Hands gripped your ass tight, pulling you flush against his hard member in his pants. A quiver of a breath escaped you.

Mark crashed his lips into yours suddenly. Sloppy, tongue filled kisses were shared between you. You took his lower lip between your teeth lightly. A gruff "fuck" escaped him. One of his hands went to your hair, forcing your lips as close to his as possible. You were on each other like wild animals; two people who were forced to be apart almost.

Mark grabbed your hand, placing it against the front of his pants. "You've got me fucking worked up, pretty girl," he growled in your ear. You were breathless. Your hand began feeling his member, stroking him to the best of your ability. Mark's breathing kicked up, his shoulders heaved with each breath. A smile creeped upon your face seeing him so caught up with you.

"Keep grinning and I'll fuck you on the floor," Mark huffed at you.

Your entire body was overheating. You wanted him. You needed him.

Your hand released from his member, getting a dissatisfied growl from him. Your fingers toyed with the waist of his pants. Mark tilted his head slightly, staring at you. He could feel you much better than he could see you. His eyes had adjusted, but it was still too dark to make out finer details. You dipped the tips of your fingers down into his pants. Tight belt against his waist stopping your fingers from going past. You could feel the liner of his underwear now, playing with the waistband. Mark heaved a breath feeling your fingers against his skin. Your eyes stared up at him now, your other hand dipping under his overcoat that still decorated his body. Fingers finding his suspender, feeling it all the way down.

Mark's finger went under yours chin, redirecting your attention to his face. He placed a more tender kiss on your lips. Tenderness turned into neediness quickly. The sloppiness from before returned, both of his hands went to your face. His body pushed you into the back of the door. Mark began removing his overcoat, never removing his lips from yours. He threw it into the darkness behind him, his hands returning to your face. Heavy breaths escaped between kisses. Your hands went to each suspender attempting to remove them from his shoulders. He pulled his hands through, desperate for the clothes that he wore to be removed. Hands tugging at the tie around his neck as if it was suddenly choking him.

Mark flipped you around quickly, kisses sloppily being placed on the back of your neck as he attempted to unzip your dress. You shimmied yourself out of it as Mark's hands desperately tugged it down your body. He spun you back around, his lips instantly going to the exposed part of your breast. Hunger painted his figure, teeth digging into your skin. You threw your head back against the door. Blindly, your hands searched his chest for the buttons to his shirt. Mark's hands explored your body as his mouth focused on your chest. Large hands gripped your bare ass.

Two of Mark's fingers felt your wet pussy through your panties. You arched your back into him, getting an amused chuckle from him. "I can't wait to feel you around me as I fuck you," he kissed your cheek.

"Please, Mark," you begged.

Mark pulled back from you, staring down at you. You could see him smile in the dark, "Please, what?"

He was taunting you slightly, wanting you to beg for it.

"Please- fuck me, Mark," you pleaded.

"That's what I thought," Mark kissed you.

He backed away wanting you to lead him to your bedroom. You grabbed him by the wrist, leading him through the darkness to an even darker room. Mark walked slowly, trying to follow your lead around the room. Completely unable to see, he did not move too much. You grabbed both his wrists, pulling him along with you as you slowly sat onto the bed. He kissed you, leaning you down onto the mattress. His kisses ventured down your body, stopping right above your panty-line.

Mark's fingers toyed with the band of your panties, teasing you. You arched your hips up in an attempt to make him do something, a whine escaping you.

"You're so fucking needy," he growled against your skin, following it with a kiss. He pulled your panties down off your legs, the air hitting your slick opening. Mark was directly in front of your need now. One of his fingers dipped into you pulling a moan from your throat. It was so sudden. "Fuck, you're so tight," he growled, his hot breath hitting your exposure. He pumped his finger in and out of you slowly. Shockwaves went through every inch of you. He pulled his finger out, you cried out.

"Christ, you're soaked," he chuckled with satisfaction. That same finger was suddenly pressed firmly against your throbbing clit. You called out his name. He joined you face to face, panting above you as his finger still circled your sensitivity. Your mouth was hung open as if you could not catch your breath. Your hands ran up his chest, you had only unbuttoned the top button with your attempt earlier. Hands played with the small patch of exposed chest hair. You could see his teeth glaring down at you, eyes heavy and dark. You began unbuttoning his shirt further, you wanted to see as much of him as possible. Broad chest decorated with a light amount of hair was hiding under the tightly buttoned shirt. You felt him from as far as your hands could reach down to his neck. Hands resting on his cheeks, you leaned up placing a kiss on him. Lightning was shooting through your body as his circles harshened.

"I'm not gonna let you cum just yet," Mark abruptly removed his finger. You whined and arched your back. "Do you want me to fuck you?" his tone toyed with you. He sat on his knees now, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. His hands removed his belt with haste.

"Yes, Mark," you swallowed.

He pulled his hard member from his pants. It sprung up, hitting him in the stomach slightly. It's almost as if you could feel your mouth run dry. Hands went to both sides of your body, his nose brushing against yours. You could feel him fighting the pants off his legs. His cock played at your opening, rubbing against your slick. Your chest was heaving with anticipation.

Mark grabbed his cock by the base, lining it up with your opening. He sheathed himself inside you, pulling a moan from both of you. His body fell into you slightly, your breasts pressing against his bare chest. He idled momentarily, bathing in this feeling.

"Fuck, I have never felt a pussy this good," his jaw hung open. Slowly, he picked up the pace. Pulling himself almost completely out before ramming back in. He rested his forehead against yours. You exchanged heavy and hot air. Rhythmically he pumped himself into you.

You wrapped your arms around him, running your nails down his bare back. His lips rested against your ear as his body fell flush with yours, "Yeah? Never been fucked this good, have you?" You could only moan in response. "That's right. And you'll never be fucked this good by anyone else," he growled. Partially claiming ownership over you now, but knowing if this never went further he would be the best fuck of your life.

Your walls began pulsing around him as your orgasm approached. After the tension he had put on your clit, your body was ready to unwind.

"Better not cum before I make you cum," Mark snarled against your neck.

You stared up in the darkness. Focusing, trying your hardest to fight the sensation coming over you while still enjoying his cock inside you. Mark's motions became more aggressive as he felt you pulse. Your chest was growing tight as you took in air rapidly.

"Detective," that slipped out, "Please I want to cum."

Mark sat up slightly, looking into your desperate eyes. "Detective?" you could see his mouth curve into a grin when he realized what you said.

Sitting up fully and throwing your legs over his shoulders, Mark began to fuck you fast and hard. "Want Detective Hoffman to make you cum? Gonna cum all over his cock are you, you dirty girl," Mark teased through his teeth. He passed one of your legs to join the other in one hand as his finger returned to your clit. The sound of skin smacking together along with loud moans from you filled the dark room.

The knot in your stomach was building, you could feel the bottoms of your feet growing warm as your orgasm approached. "Mark, I-I'm gon-gonna cum," you threw your head back into the pillow.

"That's right you are. Cum for me," Mark gritted, his hair falling loosely in his face. You felt your walls tighten and the knot come unraveled in you. Walls fluttered around his cock as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arched off the bed, deepening his cock inside you. "Good girl, fuck," Mark sped up his motions, his orgasm not far behind. He laid your legs back, falling back into his previous position, fucking you harder than he had. Lips crashed into yours, his tongue venturing into your mouth. "You're my girl now. Mine, mine, mine," he growled into your mouth. His motions steadied as he shot inside you. Thick ropes painted your inside, Mark forcing his way as deep in you as possible. Your body was shaking with pleasure.

Mark's body fell on top of yours, heaving breathing coming from him. "Fuck," he mumbled against your skin. You ran your hand up and down his back, petting him slightly. It's as if you both were still catching your breath.

Mark rolled off of you, pulling his cock out with him. He pulled you tightly to his side, placing a kiss on your head. You rested your head on his chest. Your finger ran through his body hair.

That same silence from the car ride returned now. There really was not much to say.

You were happy he was the one who rescued you tonight.

~~~

END

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@sleepybunnybobby |

[orngbananaa]

Omg heyyy I just found your page and I NEED Dion relationship hcs

i miss my wife op. i miss him a lot. here's hcs for u

Dion Agriche relationship HCS author's note: i thought about poking him with a stick the whole time while making this

• imma be real with you dion's as dense as a rock when it comes to being flirted with, griselda herself said he didn't process shit whenever pandora tried to, she also said someone like him isn't suited to be in a relationship but we’ll ignore that for the bit–

• might go on a rant here but I feel like to be in a relationship w him you either have to be as freaky and damaged as him or just develop to be more dominant cause this man is someone who would rather follow you than lead you if you managed to tame his ass

• he doesn't get bitches. you could think that he's hot as hell but everything else about him cancels it out cause his personality scares nearly everyone who meets him, he's a pathetic little fuck and he’ll need someone as equally pathetic as him for his love life to be even a smidge stable

• PDA is not something he's into, maybe a hand on his or your waist but everything else is a no-no, in private tho he's content with a hand on his cheek or being curled up together in bed

• he doesn’t get enough sleep unless he's unconscious or on horse tranquilizers so instead of that he'll just watch you sleep, it gives him some inner peace and that counts as a kind of rest

• if you go on one of those rare trips of yours it'll be by the sea, you notice the sound of the waves puts him in a trance of some sort so the two of you will simply sit near the shore and quietly enjoy the environment

• you play with his hair sometimes, you'll jokingly tell him to grow it out further so you can braid it, and in response he'll give you the flattest look in existence

• he dissociates often so you make sure to touch him a lot to keep his head out of whatever fog he's experiencing

• when it comes to comforting you he's absolutely ass at it but he will at least make an effort--he won't say anything but he'll sit next to you and stare at you until you tell him what's wrong and that counts for something ig

• you like it when he's naked; NOT in a weird way, you simply like to busy yourself by noting down some small details about his body; moles here, scars there, the paleness of his skin and the veins you can clearly see beneath it, how long his fingers are or how much softer his face is compared to his father’s

• he's surprisingly sensitive to sunlight; comes with having red eyes, after all; you try to hold back your snorts whenever you see him squinting after light hits his face

• apologies after arguments are not his thing, maybe cause he was raised by a self-centered dipshit sociopath with no regard for others’ feelings but you guys can work on that, probably

•he will cling to you like a puppy if he's in one of his more somber moods, doing things like laying his head on your lap and letting you fiddle with his hair until he gets drowsy

• you both like it when you smell of e/o, washing together and using the same products helps with that lots

• the two of you are not guaranteed to have kids; emotional problems y’know?

• does not let you near his mother, maria lets herself near you though, she loves giving you random gifts and complaining about her son if she remembers he exists; whether you tolerate her or not is up to you

• he notes down random things that remind him of you so he can look or think about them to calm down when he’s feeling destructive

• ooc but if it's winter you're throwing his ass into the snow no questions asked, you maybe regret it when he starts to ominously roll a giant snowball while staring at you without blinking

i wanna braid his hair and put him in pretty clothes...

[muekyn]

can i request eren acting a little crazy? like telling you he loves you so much he won't *ever* let you leave him in a serious tone but you think he's just messing around, being cute (totally unaware of how crazy he can be)

your work is really nice btw, i reallllly like how you write eren <3

a/n: hi hi! thank you so much for your patience, i absolutely loved writing this <3 anything with obsessive/unhinged eren has me at my mercy... and thank you for your kind words aaa im so happy you enjoy my writing! seriously, it means alot! content: pre-established relationship, yandere themes? (more like obsessive), fluff, one teeny tiny mention of death word count: 1.1k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

intense, possessive, enthralling.

that’s the best way to describe eren’s love. he loves fully, he loves completely. he loves until there’s nothing left in his essence, until his bones are withered away, his eyes are dull and tired, and his heart no longer beats.

and he loves you. undeniably so.

eren makes it known to you, every second you two are together. whether that’s a small squeeze of your shoulders, or pressing his lips against your forehead, little acts of affection are thrown your way, very often.

and although he’s undoubtedly sweet with you, he’s colder to others. a bit more hostile. with a piercing toxicity in his voice, and a deeply seeded fire in his gaze, eren does whatever he can to ward off any “threats”.

but in eren’s eyes, everyone’s a threat. no one can be trusted. you’re just too sweet. too sweet for eren to let you out of his sight. too sweet for eren to ever let you go.

you’re such a good person to him. he cherishes that endlessly.

you’re so good. in eren’s eyes, your affection and care for him was something that had to be protected. at any cost.

anyone who dared to disrupt that, even slightly, would pay dearly.

after a particularly nasty week, eren felt himself getting irritable. anxious, even. a few men actually had the nerve to approach you. there was even one bastard that tried to ask you out on a date. all week, there were people staring at you, people talking to you, people flirting with you. in fact, the one filthy rat who asked you out even decided to touch you. just a simple hand on your shoulder, but it was enough.

it was enough to send eren into a state of fuming panic. endlessly, he replayed the scenarios from this week in his mind. whenever he thought back on it, punching the guy who touched you didn’t seem like enough of a punishment.

…what exactly were you doing to him? can’t you see how much he loves you, cares about you, wants to protect you?

was this your intentions? to leave eren scared, threatened, and so violently angry?

the feeling of uncertainty weighed on him, it ate away at him. you needed to be his. undoubtedly. forever.

as the two of you spent time at eren’s place, both of you attempting to relax in his room, he felt his restlessness and anxiety skyrocket.

you sit at the small desk in eren’s room while you halfheartedly tear apart an outrageously expensive piece of bread. eren is sitting a little way away from you, resting himself on the edge of his bed.

“-you know, i’ll never understand why that lady sells her bread for so much more than everybody else,” you say. “it’s not even that good.”

“mmh,” eren simply grunts out, his mind evidently not focused on the casual conversation at hand.

“…you feeling alright, ren?” you hum at him, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “is my bread talk boring you?”

“it’s not that,” eren responds. “i just…”

he goes silent for a moment.

the utterly obsessive feelings eren had, combined with the events from this week, made him slip. just a little.

“…i’m never going to let you go. ever. you’re mine…“ eren trails off. “you’ll always be mine. i know we’re meant to be together.”

“…oh? is that so?” you smile at him, a little giggle falling from your lips. “where is this coming from, hm?”

“i just don’t want to lose you,” eren says, his eyes locked onto you. “you matter to me, more than anything.”

you give him a cute smile, tilting your body so that you’re facing eren.

“aw, that’s sweet of you…” you say, evidently delighted by his words. “you’re important to me too eren.”

“i hope so,” eren murmurs. “…fuck. i’d do anything for you.”

“anything, huh?” you chirp up.

“anything,” eren breathes. “…i’d burn the world for you, you know.”

“well, i hope you don’t do that… i live there,” you say with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“i really mean it…” eren replies.

a deep sigh leaves eren’s lips before he continues his sentence. “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you. honestly, i feel like i could kill someone for you.”

“oh- let’s not go that far…” you trail off.

“i mean- i just... i can’t stop thinking about you… i can’t stop looking at you… fuck- you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want you to ever leave me…”

he stares at the ground, his eyes locked onto the wooden floor.

“…i’m not going to leave you, ren… ever,” you softly reply, setting your torn bread down.

hastily getting up from your chair, you make your way over to eren. as you take a seat on his plush bed, eren’s attention drifts from the paneled floor to your beautiful irises. once he catches himself looking at you, it’s hard for him to look away. it feels impossible to look away.

eren mumbles. “i wouldn’t be able to handle it. i don’t think i could see you with another person, ever. god… like that guy from earlier. he pisses me off.”

“eren…” you sigh softly.

“fuck- what a piece of shit. no one should be flirting with you,” he spits out, clearly working himself up at this point. “only me. it should only be me. i don’t want anyone even looking at you in that way. just the thought alone makes me want to-“

“ah- i get it, i get it,” you say, taking his hands in yours.

a reassuring smile flashes across your face, trying to deescalate eren’s creeping anger. gently, you give his palms a squeeze. “like i said eren, nothing is going to happen. you’re all i want, all i need. please, don’t worry.”

the tension that was previously evident in eren’s hands starts to ease. the look on his face is calmer, more relaxed.

“god- i’m sorry. i just really love you,” eren breathes to you. “you’re too good to me…i don’t know how i deserve you.”

“oh, don’t say that,” you say, comfort coaxing your voice. “…i love you too, though. just try your best to remember that, okay?”

a slow nod comes from eren. you lean into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. letting go of his hands, you trail your fingers up his forearms, your digits caressing his skin as you wrap your arms around him. your hug is soft and gentle, almost hesitant. there’s a fluttering in eren’s chest, a vibrancy quite literally making him glow as you embrace him.

eren lets a small smile crack through his lips. vulnerability is still undeniably scrawled on his expression. it always is. ultimately, he just wants more of you, more experiences of you, more time with you.

but for now, just hearing your sweet, songlike voice tell eren that you love him, is enough. just feeling your supple skin shyly brush against him, is enough.

everything about you, was enough.

[amagialp]

Slasher headcanons!

not my usual fandom post, but please feel free to request anything! :P

(TW) and GN! reader hope you like it!

Michael Myers (Halloween)

Silent acts of affection: He'll fix things around your house when you're not looking, broken locks, creaky floorboards, even your car engine, but never tells you he did it.

Unsettling gifts: Michael doesn't understand normal romance, so you'll find things like feathers, cracked mirrors, or bones neatly arranged on your doorstep.

Childlike curiosity: He stares at you for hours not only because he’s creepy, but also because he’s trying to understand what makes you tick. If you catch him, he just tilts his head and keeps staring.

Jealous rage: Anyone who flirts with you ends up mysteriously missing or finds themselves suddenly terrified of "something" lurking nearby.

Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th)

Gentle giant energy: He’s incredibly soft with you, always hesitant to touch, afraid he might hurt you with his size and strength.

Nature dates: Jason loves being in the woods, so expect long "quiet walks" through the trees, with him subtly steering you away from dangerous areas.

Primitive gifts: He’ll leave flowers, smooth stones, or handmade wooden trinkets for you. Sometimes they’re perfect, other times, they’re... rough. It’s the thought that counts.

Protective rage: If someone harms you, they’ll regret it almost immediately. Jason’s wrath is swift and terrifying, but he’ll make sure you never see that side of him.

Leatherface (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Domestic sweetness: Despite the chaos, Leatherface tries to make your life comfortable, even cooking for you or attempting to sew something nice, though it might not always go well.

Physical affection: He doesn’t know how to express love, so expect bear hugs that are almost too tight and clumsy pats on the head.

Territorial: He’s deeply protective of his space, and by extension, you. Anyone who intrudes on what he considers "yours" is immediately in danger.

Childlike trust: He’ll follow your lead almost blindly, looking to you for approval in everything he does.

Billy & Stu (Scream)

Chaotic duo: They’ll argue over who gets to sit next to you during a horror movie marathon and will both pretend they weren’t scared when you call them out.

Competitive affection: They’re constantly trying to outdo each other to impress you, whether it’s with compliments, gestures, or taking out "obstacles" in your life.

Endless pranks: They team up to prank you, but if you ever prank them back, they’re both shocked and oddly impressed.

Weirdly supportive: They encourage your dark side, hyping you up if you ever show any interest in violence or twisted humor.

Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street)

Dark humor overload: Freddy flirts through sarcasm and mocking, but if someone else dares to insult you, they’re in for a nightmare.

Dream manipulation: He creates scenarios in your dreams just to make you laugh or to give you an escape from reality. It’s his twisted way of caring.

Possessive in your dreams: He doesn’t like anyone else entering your subconscious space, treating it like his personal domain (king gojo).

Nightmare protector: If you’re scared of something in a dream, Freddy will destroy it for you, though he’ll make fun of you for being scared in the first place.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Meticulous gifts: Asa leaves you intricate, terrifyingly beautiful things he’s crafted... like butterfly displays or twisted sculptures made from things you’d rather not know the origin of.

Fascination with your routine: He studies your habits obsessively, making sure he knows everything about your day to day life. If something disrupts it, he’ll "fix" the problem quietly.

Quiet, calculated affection: He doesn’t express love traditionally, but his attention to detail in how he takes care of you (even in small ways) speaks volumes.

Possessive and territorial: The idea of anyone else touching you or your belongings infuriates him. He’s not above setting traps to ensure people keep their distance.

Collector tendencies: You’re his most prized possession, but unlike the others, he protects you with a quiet reverence.

ChromeSkull (Laid to Rest)

Silent communicator: ChromeSkull relies on body language and technology to "talk" to you. Expect texts or typed out notes that are surprisingly sweet but still laced with his signature dark humor.

Obsessive filming: He constantly records you... not in a creepy stalker way (okay, maybe a little :D), but because he finds you captivating. The tapes are for him alone, and he guards them jealously.

Over the top protective: Anyone who so much as raises their voice at you is immediately on his hit list. His revenge is brutal, but he makes sure you never see that side of him.

Oddly stylish: He takes pride in his appearance and will sometimes dress you up too, giving you gifts like leather jackets or sunglasses to match his aesthetic.

Acts of service: His love language is taking care of "problems" for you, whether it’s fixing your car, eliminating someone who upset you, or just quietly keeping watch while you sleep.

The Sinclair Brothers (House of Wax)

Bo Sinclair

Charmer with a dark side: Bo loves flirting with you and making you blush, but there’s always an edge to it, as if he’s daring you to fall for him completely.

Overprotective sibling vibes: If Vincent or Lester get too close to you, he’ll intervene under the guise of "making sure they’re not bothering you."

Fix it guy: He’ll tinker with your stuff, fixing anything broken or making small improvements, even if you didn’t ask. It’s his way of showing he cares.

Jealous streak: Bo doesn’t handle competition well. If someone flirts with you, he’ll drag them into his workshop to "fix" them.

Vincent Sinclair

Artist’s devotion: Vincent loves sketching or sculpting you, often without you knowing. His art captures every detail, from the way your hair falls to the light in your eyes.

Gentle giant energy: Despite his imposing presence, he’s incredibly careful with you, treating you like something fragile and irreplaceable.

Silent adoration: He rarely speaks, but the way he watches you intensely and with complete focus says everything.

Gift giving: Expect handmade items like wax flowers, tiny sculptures, or jewelry. He pours his heart into these creations, and they’re always meant to protect or comfort you.

Lester Sinclair

Playful but protective: Lester loves teasing you, but if anyone else tries it, he’s quick to shut them down. He’s got a surprisingly sharp temper when it comes to your safety.

Nature walks: He loves taking you into the woods, showing you secret spots and teaching you random survival tricks, like how to set traps or identify plants.

Down to earth affection: Lester’s not one for grand gestures, but his constant kindness like keeping you company or bringing you snacks, makes you feel cared for.

Acts as the "buffer": He’s the calmest of the brothers and will often step in if Bo and Vincent get too intense around you.

!REQUESTS OPEN!

[alwaysanundertone]

What could possibly go wrong?

Barty Crouch Jr x fem reader

word count: 900

part 1 , part 2

Except, everything was wrong.

When you arrived at the party, Barty was literally surrounded by people after about two minutes. You tried to keep up with all of his friends, but it got kind of overwhelming.

You decided to leave when one particular Slytherin girl came into view: you tried to introduce yourself, but when she refused to shake your hand, you decided you had enough, so you just left Barty. After all, you’ve been a loner your whole life, and you weren’t about to start begging for people’s attention now.

How dumb of you to think Barty could possibly be into you, he was a manwhore, he flirted with everyone, you weren’t special. Plus, why would he go for someone as boring as you, when he could have everyone? Hell, everyone in Hogwarts seemed to be thirsting over him, you weren’t special. He was a social butterfly, you were a loner, how could it work out?

Now you were sulking at the minibar, wondering why you interrupted your reading session for this, but most of all, why did he bring you here, just to make you feel insecure about yourself. You stared at the glass of whiskey in front of you: might give it a go while you were at your first, and probably last, party.

You instantly regret it: it burned, and you were positive it was way too much.

“Hey, Y/N right?” You jumped. In front of you stood a blonde guy, he towered over you, staring at you with his pale eyes. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart. Just wanted to come say hi, you weren’t looking too happy to be here. I’m Evan”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking his hand. “But how do you know my name?”

“Well, it would be strange if I didn’t. Barty talks about you like, 24/7, and I am his roommate, so”

You widened your eyes. “He does?”

“Yes, silly. Don’t you see how he always looks at you? And how he always seems to be around when you seem to be uncomfortable? Like yesterday, during Potions, when you were all alone at a table?”

You blushed. You had felt really pathetic, sitting by yourself while everyone else was chatting with their friends, and then Barty sat next to you, leaving his friends. You instinctively looked at him, you brows furrowed: he was still with that Slytherin girl. Evan followed your gaze.

“Look, sometimes he’s just oblivious of what’s happening around him, but I swear he only has eyes for you. Look at his body language: she’s desperately trying to establish some type of physical connection, while he looks like he is about to leave” In that moment, you saw Barty looking around, when he spotted you he brightened up, excusing himself and making his way to you.

“Hey love, looks like you’re already charming up my friends”

“I wasn’t-“

“You should be careful, Barty, if you won’t start dating her, someone else might take your place” He winked at you, making you blush.

“You’re such a dick, Y/N is already mine and you know that” Barty slung an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple, making you a blabbering mess.

“Maybe she won’t mind to be shared, don’t you think?” Evan caressed your cheek, now you were sure he could feel you burning, you weren’t sure what was happening, but you knew if they kept this up, you might as well end up in a puddle in the floor. They both chuckled at your reaction.

“Let’s ignore this shithead, love, and go dancing” He lead you to the dancefloor.

“Barty, I don’t know how, I’ve never been to a party before, you know that.”

He smiled softly at you. “Just follow my movements, everything will be alright”

The music was slow and sultry, he had his big hands on your waist, and he started moving slowly, guiding your hips. You had your face in the crook of his neck, trying to inhale subtly the smell of his cologne.

“You’re tickling me here, love, do I smell nice?” You felt his chest vibrate, while you tried to hide your now red face into his chest. “Don’t go shy on me now, love, mh? Let me see those beautiful rosy cheeks”

“You’re not being fair, you know that, right?”

“Who said I wanted to?” He bopped your nose. “Besides, I really enjoy seeing you all flustered because of me. It’s kind of an ego booster”

“Shut up, Crouch”

“Make me”

He stared at you, then gazed at your lips, making you lick them absentmindedly. Were you really about to kiss him? You didn’t know if it was the whiskey giving you the courage, or the fact that he looked good enough to eat, but you decided that yes, you were going to kiss him.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and then you just put your lips on his. He freezed at first, making you regret your choice, but then he shifted his hold on you, so that one of his hands was now grabbing your butt, while the other cradled your head, while deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, your legs were feeling all jelly-like, the hand placement and the fact that he was really a good kisser had you feeling dizzy.

“You don’t know how long I waited for this exact moment.” He pecked your lips. “Since I saw you with that damn hat on, I was praying all of the gods you’d end up in Slytherin, but you didn’t. And now I finally have you in my arms.” Another kiss. “I won’t ever let you go, you know?”

“I think it’s fine by me, but you should take me on a date first”

He was about to reply when you were hit by a bright flash.

“Sorry guys, had to have a picture of this moment”

“Evan when I catch you, you’re dead”

As he was about to chase the poor guy, you just gripped him harshly. “Shut up and kiss me”

He smiled at you. “Whatever you want, love”

[panties-on-boys]

scary dog privileges poolverine

explicit 18+

tags: jealousy, top wade, bottom logan, dirty talk, breeding, mean wolverine, cowboy position, the author loves italics lol, anal no prep (healing factor mwah), vague feminization, i love you kink if that’s a thing

Everything in this fucking bar is sticky.

Though he’s really trying to be the supportive boyfriend here, Wade has yet to convince himself of a single positive trait this place actually has. It’s loud, it smells, and some ginger with (Wade assumes) a hairless asshole has been flirting with him for the whole five minutes Logan’s been in the bathroom.

“I like your suit.” Slurs the stranger.

He’s tall, but he doesn’t have any cool fangs or cool claws, so Wade does not care. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t even look at the guy, too busy poking the ice in the bottom of his Sex on the Beach with a straw.

Unabashed, the stranger doesn’t let Wade’s clear disinterest deter him. “Why red?” He asks.

Wade glances toward the bathroom and tries to summon Logan with their soulmate connection. “So the little babies of the world can’t tell when I’m bleeding. I do all the murdering for the children.” Deadpool replies sarcastically.

The man nods sagely and takes a long drink of his Coors Lite, like that was the deepest thing he’s ever heard.

Wade huffs a sigh of annoyance inside of his mask. He was hoping that would scare the guy away, but lots of people around here have a superhero fetish so it only serves to make him close even more fucking space. Ugh. Is there a nice way to explain to a stranger that they’re moments away from becoming the Wolverine’s puppet, speared three times up the ass? A, you know, let ‘em down easy sort of delivery, but one that really gets it across that they’re flirting for their life?

“You here alone?” Asks the redhead, leaning into Deadpool’s eyeline.

Wade, again, pointedly ignores him in favor of shoving the ice cubes around in the bottom of his glass. “No dude. And my boyfriend is literally the Wolverine so if I were you, and I cared about keeping that hand… I might consider removing it.”

As if summoned, in all of his six foot three inch glory (six-eleven if you count the eight scrumptious inches imprisoned behind his very sexy full-yellow suit, woof), Wolverine emerges from the bathroom. He stops dead in the doorway, the light behind him surrounding his frame like a halo.

Wade’s eyes are already there even before Logan is, drawn to the glinting silver of his claws… which are already fucking out, and he leads with them, God forgive him.

The stranger removes his hand, much too slowly.

Wade can hear the Wolverine growling all the way from the bar. His skin starts getting tingly. Secretly, he loves this part.

Before he can even register it, Logan’s pressed up behind the redhead, every single inch down his body, the tip of one claw to his carotid artery like a shank. “That’s my boyfriend you’re chattin’ up.” He says, low into the stranger’s ear.

Wade crosses his legs and squeezes his thighs together. Fuck, this is gonna get hot. He picks up his glass, stirs his ice around, and says, “I told him, Daddy.”

“You shut the fuck up, slut.” Logan spits. “Lettin’ other men touch you at the bar, I’m shakin’ my fucking head… there’s a motherfuckin’ katana on your back. Two katanas, Wade.”

The man has turned white. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing dangerously against the point of the blade.

Wade smiles. “Ooh… first names? You’re big pissed.” He sips his drink and kicks his feet a little.

The stranger stutters, and Wade thinks he says something like, I didn't know, sorry, but it’s garbled by the pathetic fear that he knows Wolverine can smell on him.

Logan growls, and the man goes still. “Did he know?” He asks Wade.

“Promise, I told him. Scout’s honor.” Wade grins. “I told him even that my boyfriend is the Wolverine, he didn’t seem to think that was such a big deal.” He shrugs.

Logan scoffs and clicks his tongue.

Wade leans back against the bar, sips his drink, and watches with a little too much glee as Logan shoves the stranger down to land hard on the dirty bar floor.

The man scurries backwards on all fours until he can get up, then practically sprints for the exit.

Wade sighs dreamily and looks to Logan.

He looks livid.

It’s everything Wade has to not start giggling. He holds his glass up for a cheers.

Instead, Logan snarls, grabs his arm, and they’re home in less than ten because he drives very recklessly and gropes Wade through his suit the whole time.

He gets carried inside, slung over the Wolverine’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

In their room, Logan drops Wade to his feet just for the satisfaction of pushing him into the bed. He lands with a little oof.

Dogpool follows the commotion, trots to a stop right outside the open doorway and heels to tip her head inquisitively.

Wade is already panting with the anticipation when he tells her, “Go on, girl. You don’t wanna see what Daddy’s gonna do to me,” and grins.

Logan growls and kicks the door shut. “Stop fuckin’ callin’ me that.” He says, pulling off his gloves.

Wade smiles sweetly and tugs his mask over his head from the back.

Logan starts tearing off his own costume as Wade watches with a hungry grin, not bothering to even try to pretend he isn’t totally and irredeemably turned on right now. He lifts his hips up toward nothing.

When Wolverine gets down to just his skin tight boxer briefs– whore– he looks Wade in the eye. Then, he pulls his claws out again.

Deadpool scoffs. “Oh c’mon baby, don’t be like that.” He grins. “I promise I told him who I belonged to. And I didn’t touch him, didn’t even look at him.”

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice, he’s not taking this fucking seriously at all. The claws go back in before he reaches out and starts tugging Wade’s suit off, ignoring him in favor of getting the useless bastard naked.

Logan’s hunch is only further confirmed by Wade’s stupid fucking mouth, which never ever stops, when it opens again and says, “Even when he put his hands alllll over me, I didn’t look at him.”

That does it.

Logan climbs onto the bed and straddles his hips, grumbling.

Deadpool smiles like the fucking idiot he is and puts his hands behind his head, mocking him pretty much. Fucking asshole.

Logan leans down, his lips brushing with Wade’s as he talks, and asks, “You think this is funny, do you?” Stupid motherfucker. “I should’ve fuckin’ killed that guy. The blood would be on your hands.”

Wade bites his lip and squirms, trying to suppress his growing smile and failing. “Oh nooo. That’d be the first time that’s ever happened to me, too. I can see the headlines now: Mercenary, Wade Wilson, Finally Gets Some Blood on his Hands.”

Logan grins because… okay. That one was actually funny. But he dips down to hide it, sinking his sharp teeth into Wade’s shoulder as a punishment for that stupid motherfucking mouth. He doesn’t care if it was funny.

“Ow, fuck! Bad dog.” Wade huffs, half-heartedly swatting at him.

Logan licks at the bite mark. The skin is already healed over again by the time he pulls away to look at it, so he moves up to kiss Wade, automatically licking into his open mouth.

Wade hums, and when they break, pants, “I should get hit on by strangers more often.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Logan replies, voice low and dangerous. He presses a hand to Wade’s neck.

Wade’s eyes roll back in his head and his hands come up to grab at Logan’s wrist.

“I’m serious. You’re all fuckin’ mine.” Logan snarls.

Wade can’t breathe and he fucking loves it.

“Do you understand?”

Wade shakes his head and grins, so Logan tightens his grip.

“You can go out and find any inadequate, under-endowed fuckin’ loser you want. I just want to make sure you know,” he’s seething, his nails biting in, “you will never, ever find it like me again. Nobody knows your body like me, what you like how I do. Nobody will care about makin’ you come more than once, you spoiled fuckin’ brat. You should be thankin’ me on your knees. I’ll tell you why.” Logan spits. He rolls his hips down into Wade’s, one time.

The friction is addicting. Wade whines for it, despite that he does not have anywhere near enough fucking air in his lungs to be whining.

“You can fuck whoever you want, see if I fuckin’ care because at the end of the day, I know.”

Logan releases the pressure and Wade gasps for breath, giggling deliriously.

“You will always come crawlin’ back for this.”

He grinds down again and Wade moans, “Thank you,” and sucks in another greedy breath. “Don't be mean to me, Daddy.” He rasps. “I promise I won’t get hit on by strangers anymore.”

Logan growls, “If I see you let another person talk to you like that again, I will fucking kill them,” and he even tacks the g on this time to show how serious he is.

Wade grins, mostly because he knows it isn’t an empty threat. Logan’s that crazy, which is unbelievably hot because so is Wade. He reaches down and runs his fingertips along the waistband of Wolverine’s underwear.

Logan grabs his wrists and pins them to the bed under one hand. “Don’t you touch me.”

Deadpool whines.

Wolverine kisses him, all tongue this time, and then pulls away. “You’re so fuckin’ greedy. Can’t even last five minutes without being in the fuckin’ spotlight.” He says.

Deadpool whines again, higher, and wriggles beneath him.

“And you think you have the right to touch me, hah.” Logan spits, literally dripping venom. Why it makes Wade harder than a brick house is beyond him. “I should give you fuckin’ nothin’. Letting strangers put their hands on you at the bar, just to get my attention. Tch.”

Wade just giggles dazedly, rolling his hips up into Wolverine’s ass.

Logan growls and bares his teeth, which is supposed to be threatening Wade guesses? “Hey, have you ever heard of just fuckin’ askin’? Huh?”

Wade huffs and pulls where the Wolverine has his wrists pinned. “Please lemme touch you.” He slurs.

“You’re so fuckin’ lucky I’ve been horny since you made blueberry pancakes this morning. I should give you nothin’, you greedy bitch.” Logan tells him again, rocking his hips down into Wade’s.

Eagerly, Wade moans and rolls his hips back up, huffing, “Your favorite.” Nobody knows you like I do. Then, “C’mon, let me touch.”

With a little growl of frustration, Logan caves. He lets Wade’s hands go.

They instantly pull the gloves off and come straight for Wolverine’s chest, raking desperate nails down its front. Then, Wade grabs Logan’s hips and pulls him into a grind.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Wade purrs.

Logan grunts and leans down, panting into his open neck.

Wade turns to talk into his ear, “I love you.”

And then Logan whimpers. There it is.

Wade smiles, “That’s it puppy, there’s my boy…” He hears the metal snikt of Logan’s claws by his head and his smile spreads into a grin. “I don’t care. Gut me. I’m all yours, forever and ever, until death do us part or you get a restraining order, which I will then violate so many times they’ll have to put me in jail.”

Logan growls under his ear, “We’d be the worst exes.” He slips into a rhythm without even realizing it, really, just rolling his hips into Wade’s because it feels good. “I’d fuck you in the bathroom during visitation.”

Wade huffs a little laugh. It’s so nice to laugh during sex. It makes his chest ache. “So say it back.” He purrs.

Wade’s right arm leaves to dig around in the bedside table. Logan grunts and nibbles his earlobe.

Wade pulls back with the bottle, popping the cap with his thumb. Like Pavlov’s dog, Logan hears the sound of it and pulls Wade’s boxers off first so he can slick his cock while he sheds his own briefs.

“I’m only yours, Wolvie. You can stop stressin’ so much.” Wade purrs, mimicking Logan’s accent.

Logan huffs and climbs into cowboy. Wade dutifully lines himself up, more than eager to get inside of him.

“I only wanna be with you.”

Logan sits back on his heels, taking Wade with no prep. “Ah, fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, nails digging in where his hands are holding himself up on Wade’s chest.

“Feels good baby?” Wade asks, admiring the way Logan’s cock ticks and drips onto his stomach.

“Uh huh,” Logan groans.

“Nobody else can make me feel like this.” Wade purrs, a slick hand on Logan’s left hip and a dry one on his right. He holds him still and fucks up into him like that, moaning at the way he can feel himself forcing Logan open around the width of his cock, fuck. “You’re so tight.”

Logan whimpers back, “Feels so huge.”

Wade grins. He’s always loved the hubris of dick praise. “Was made to fuck you, babygirl. I’m never going back, swear to God. Nobody has it like this.”

That finally earns a rock back from Wolverine, and he drags his nails down a little until Wade bleeds, only for a second. “I’ll– fuckin’ kill–” Logan puffs, “m’serious…” he trails off. He can’t even fucking think with the stretch.

Deadpool laughs under his breath. “What’s that, angel baby?” He teases.

Logan sits up a little and pushes back until Wade bottoms out. God, it is incomprehensibly fucking tight. “Don’t fuckin’ do it again.” He spits.

Wade’s mouth drops open and his hands dig in, pulling Logan onto his cock with newfound enthusiasm. “Never. I’ll never do it again, promise.” He grins. “Scout’s honor.”

Logan growls, low in his chest. Irritating motherfucker. “Shut up,” he mumbles, and he starts to bounce in Wade’s lap.

It isn’t just dirty talk, he actually does feel huge… Logan swears he can feel it in his ribs, especially when he’s on top like this. His cock jumps and drips again, and Wade brings his slick hand down to wrap around it.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby,” Wade mutters, which makes Logan roll his eyes a little. “Nobody compares to you.” He purrs. “Ooh, I’m so lucky.”

The dry hand on Wolverine’s hip pulls him down to meet Wade’s next thrust. The skin on skin slapping is disgustingly obscene, and only getting louder as Logan starts getting fucked in real earnest.

“Wade, my God,” Wolverine mutters helplessly.

“MJ if ya nasty,” Wade grins.

“You’re so fuckin’ frustrating.” Logan grumbles. He starts to bounce back a little harder against Wade’s thrusts, soft uh uh uhs hidden in his every exhale.

“You sound so gorgeous angel,” Wade pants back, starting to stroke Logan’s cock in his sticky fist, made even stickier with precome. “You get so wet.” He purrs.

Wolverine finds himself torn between fucking himself back on Wade’s dick or thrusting into his fist. “Feels so good,” he basically drools.

“Nobody in the world as pretty as you sweetheart,” Wade coos. “So tight and so wet and so pretty.”

“Wade, shut up,” Logan whimpers, but the hot pink flush that settles over the bridge of his sun-speckled nose is so painfully obvious.

“I know you like it princess. This is what you want, right? Want me to–” Wade pauses to fuck up into Wolverine a little harder and grunt, “to tell you how you’re so beautiful, you’re so irreplaceable?”

Logan whines and rolls his hips into Wade’s waiting hand, a pointed decision.

“You’re fucking irreplaceable babydoll.”

Logan flutters his eyes open and looks down at Wade. He stares through his clumped lashes, stuck in spikes with tears from the burn of the stretch.

Wade brings up his free hand, cupping Logan’s jaw. “My hero. Isn’t that right? You and me, forever, us against the world kitty.” His thumb drags over his lover’s lower lip on the drop back down to hold his waist.

Wade coos at him, at his big wet puppy eyes.

It’s sweet. Honestly. Sometimes, Logan just gets soft, sort of insecure… Wade secretly loves it, wrapping him up in his arms and whispering praise into his ear until he feels better. He loves it, loves the way he can take Logan apart with just a few compliments.

He picks up the drag of his hand.

Logan growls under his breath and tips his head back to bare his throat, and Wade drags him down by the hip onto his cock, over and over until his breath gets tight.

“D’you like it, angel?” He asks, seething through his teeth.

“Yes,” Wolverine gasps, leaning down to lick into Wade’s mouth. Wade licks back, tongue curling around the sharp points of Logan’s laterals.

Wade breaks the kiss to pant, “Yeah, you feel fucking amazing.”

The Wolverine keens for him. Wade never stops talking, but during sex he’s especially loose with it. Logan mumbles, “shut up,” again, but he secretly loves it and Wade fucking knows that.

“Nobody out there tight like you.” On and on and on. “Can fucking feel you, sucking me in.”

Logan whimpers, “Jesus, Wade,” and Wade bites back another MJ if ya nasty because he’s pretty sure it’ll all go away if he really says it again.

So instead, he purrs, “I love you baby,” and grins like a fucking crazy person. “Nobody compares to you. You’re the best Wolverine.”

And Logan throws his head back and sobs as he comes white and hot over the backs of Wade’s fingers.

Wade watches the first three shots climb up to his own collarbones, then the next three dripping over his knuckles, and by the end of it he’s been smiling for so long his face hurts.

Logan keeps bouncing in his lap. “C’mon, come inside,” he slurs, sounding totally delirious.

That’s what Wade loves about this Wolverine. Even though, most of the time, he’s on the bottom… he’s still so giving. He always keeps going until Wade comes, begs him to, even. It’s the hottest fucking thing in the entire world.

Logan leans down and sinks his teeth into Wade’s neck. Then, his lips come up a little to kiss the corner of Wade’s mouth, printing him red, and he whispers, “I love you.”

Wade moans, “Oh fuck yes,” and buries himself as deep as he can get, coming inside of Logan with literal fucking intention. It feels like it lasts forever, and Logan keeps rocking back against him over and over to ride it out until Wade starts to whine.

Logan collapses on top of him, Wade still inside, and pants like a dog into his ear.

“Jesus Christ,” Wade mutters.

Logan huffs a breathless little laugh. “MJ if I’m nasty?” He asks, voice rough with the lingering remnants of being fucked out of his God damned mind.

Wade groans and rolls his hips again. “You’re my fucking soulmate.”

[aquamarixx]

what you deserve

Kazutora must've lucked out because he knows you’re way out of his league and maybe too good for no good person like him 

⁺₊ ❆ ANGSTMAS 2024 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing hanemiya kazutora x reader word count 1.6k words tags aged up, final timeline, angst, hurt navigation

Life has been good—or at least better—for Kazutora.

He could almost call it normal. Almost.

But despite years of therapy and the steady routine he built after his second stint in prison, there are things that still scare him. 

Relationships.

Whether platonic or romantic, he treads carefully. Always cautious. Always on guard, terrified of scaring people off—or worse, hurting them. He had tried dating once, only to back out at the last moment when Chifuyu and Baji set him up with someone. That’s how bad it is.

His past still held him in a chokehold, haunting every corner of his life. The fear of causing harm—be it emotional or physical—lurks in the shadows. And all he could do was brace himself, waiting for the inevitable crash.

That’s why Kazutora never thought he’d find himself dating someone like you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Beautiful, smart, independent. You’d finished college, held a stable corporate job, and had a loving family. You seemed so perfect, so normal—a person whose life was so well put together that it made his mess of a past feel even more glaring.

In short, you’re someone who definitely had their shit together. 

He first met you at XJ Land, the pet shop where he worked. Chifuyu ran the place, and it had become Kazutora’s sanctuary—safe and simple. You became a regular there, often bringing in your tuxedo cat, Kuro, for grooming. 

You were always cheerful, always making conversation with him, Baji, and Chifuyu. And while you treated them warmly, Kazutora noticed that you gave him just a little more attention.

You weren’t subtle about it, either. You flirted with him in small, gentle ways, watching with amusement as he stumbled over his words. He thought you were out of his league from the start.

And one day, you asked him out. Against all his instincts, he said yes.

Who is he to say no to the kind regular who doted on her cat like it was the center of the universe? The same person who gave him confident smiles and listened intently when he shared cautious snippets of his life. The same person who accepted him without judgment, without hesitation.

Months later, you were still together, and Kazutora found himself happier than he ever thought he could be. It felt… surreal. How perfectly you fit into his arms. How your presence grounded him in a reality he was afraid to believe in. How you filled the empty corners of his life with light.

But even that happiness came with a shadow. His dark past, his trauma and insecurities he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. The same ones he could only keep at bay. Ones he can never extinguish until it's truly gone. 

It was supposed to be a good day—your first Christmas together. You had dragged him out of the house to shop for decorations and gifts, holding his hand as you navigated the bustling streets.

To you, it was mundane and fun. To him, it was a glimpse of a future he dared to dream of—a life where moments like these felt normal.

He felt light, almost carefree, until you bumped into your friends from college.

Kazutora stayed quiet as you introduced him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But the conversation quickly turned sour to his liking, and it was like knives twisting in his chest.

"So, what do you do?" one of them asked Kazutora politely. He stuttered for a moment, a bit shy to say what he does for a living, in front of your friends who are probably well established like yourself. 

*"He works at a pet store," you answered for him, noticing how he froze. Your tone was proud, but Kazutora couldn’t stop himself from imagining the judgment in their eyes. They didn’t say anything outright, but the polite nods felt like daggers to him.

The conversation veered off course when one of your friends casually mentioned your ex-boyfriend, now working at a bank. Another added something about a guy who used to have a crush on you, now climbing the corporate ladder in pharmaceuticals.

He knew that you’ve dated other guys before him. But he never really asked about them. Maybe he doesn’t want to compare himself to them. Or hurt himself thinking how much of a downgrade he is. 

Kazutora forced a smile, but inside, it felt like the air was thinning. Even if you’re in the middle of the street, it feels like there were invisible walls closing in on him. He tugged at your hand, murmuring something about needing to get going, and you, sensing his discomfort, quickly excused yourselves.

Back at your apartment, you noticed how quiet Kazutora had become. The warmth of your shared apartment was meant to feel like a haven, especially now during the holidays. The glow of the Christmas tree lights danced across Kazutora’s face as he sat stiffly on the couch, shoulders tense, staring at his hands.

You knew that the encounter earlier had brought an awkward tension that Kazutora couldn’t seem to shake. Now, he seemed distant—almost unreachable.

To cheer him up, you pulled out your Christmas gift for him—a carefully chosen leather bracelet engraved with something meaningful between the two of you.

“Here,” you said softly, placing the neatly wrapped box in front of him before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Tora.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at the gift like it was a weight too heavy to bear.

"Why do you even bother?" he said, his voice low and bitter.

You froze. "What do you mean?"

"This." He gestured vaguely at the gift, then at himself. "Us. Why are you even wasting your time with me? You could do so much better, but instead, you’re stuck with me. A guy who works at a pet store and can’t even give you half of what you deserve."

"Kazutora—" you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“No, listen to me!” His voice cracked as he cut you off, raw and trembling. “You’re everything I’m not. You’re smart, beautiful, and successful. And me? I’m just… nothing. Just a guy with a criminal record, stuck working at a pet store, barely holding his life together. You should go back to one of those guys your friends were talking about. At least they can give you what you deserve.” 

You flinched, his sudden outburst breaking your heart. “Kazutora, what are you even saying? I love you, and I—”

“Don’t!” he interrupted, his tone sharp, almost desperate. “You shouldn’t waste your love on someone like me. Everything is temporary, and I’m just another mistake waiting to happen.”

Your heart twisted painfully as you reached for his hand, but he pulled away, standing abruptly.

"Stop it!" you shouted, tears brimming in your eyes. "You don’t get to decide what I want, Kazutora. I chose you because I love you. I don’t care about your past or where you work. None of that matters to me."

He laughed bitterly, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Don’t say that! Don’t… don’t act like I deserve that. I don’t. You’re just going to leave, just like everyone else. You’re going to realize I’m broken, and you’ll hate me for it.”

You stepped closer, your voice breaking. “I'm not gonna leave you, Kazutora. You’re—.”

But Kazutora shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "You don’t understand. I’ll just drag you down. I’ll ruin everything, just like I always do. You deserve someone who can actually make you happy, someone who isn’t broken."

"You’re not broken," you whispered, but he didn’t believe you. He couldn’t.

“Do you know what it’s like to ruin every good thing in your life? I do.” His voice cracked, his fists clenched at his sides. “And I won’t let that happen to you. You deserve better.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. 

You tried to stop him, but he was already at the door. "Kazutora, please don’t do this. Please—”

Before you could say another word, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the apartment. The slam of the door echoed through the apartment, leaving you in the cold grip of frustration and confusion.

Kazutora walked through the cold streets, replaying every word in his mind. By the time he reached the shared house he lives in with Chifuyu and Baji, his chest felt hollow. Like the void he’s oh so afraid of has swallowed everything whole and left him nothing but pain and despair.

Chifuyu was still awake, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. He looked up as Kazutora walked in, his face etched with concern.

"Hey… everything okay?" Chifuyu asked cautiously.

Kazutora just shook his head and muttered, "I’m fine. Don’t worry about it."

Chifuyu didn’t press, though his worried gaze lingered as Kazutora trudged upstairs.

In his room, Kazutora collapsed onto his bed, clutching his phone. His thumb hovered over your contact for what felt like hours before he finally typed out a message:

You deserve better than me. Let’s break up. I’m sorry.

He hit send and curled up in bed, his heart breaking into pieces. To him, this was the only gift he could give you. A chance at a better life without him.

The holidays weren’t supposed to feel like this, but Kazutora convinced himself it was better this way. Even if it meant being alone. Even if it meant breaking both of your hearts.

It was just another Christmas marked by pain, another reminder that happiness for someone like him was always temporary.

amari's notes: this is the very first tokyo rev fic i've ever written, and for kazutora no less! im grateful for the request and i hope you enjoy this one @inu1gf! happy holidays! anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡