#but I wanted to finish it so it wouldn’t just be damned to the drafts lol
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starborn-souls · 2 years ago
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Parents, and more specifically shitty parents, is a really easy button to push to get Pixie pissed off or at the very least in an irritable mood. Especially if it’s in regards to someone close to her.
Her relationships with her family, her mother especially, are strained at best. There’s a reason why Pixie rarely calls home, and even then those rare times are to her brother.
The origin of things becoming fractured is simple. Pixies parents didn’t want her going into the active duty when she just lost an arm as a reservist and had a child. And Pixie would have killed herself if she spent another day as a civilian. She knows that for certain, she came close once or twice. Only her younger brother knows that however, and she made him promise never to tell their parents about it.
And besides that, well, Pixie’s family is full of stubborn fuckers who even after ten years want her to leave the service. And make that no secret whatsoever the few conversations they still have every once in a while, regardless of who it is, with Arnold being the only exception.
There’s other factors too that have driven a wedge into her relationships but just aren’t as relevant or didn’t enter the picture right away. Her sister Lisa’s job as a journalist and Pixie’s refusal to even say what she does now beyond ‘intelligence’ being two of them.
In all honesty, if it weren’t for Evie, Pixie wouldn’t bother keeping in contact with anyone besides her brother at all. As far as she’s concerned, they’ve made their views clear and so has she. And nothings seemed to change so she doesn’t see the point in trying.
But, all that to say, her problems with her family all ultimately stem from those involved all caring too much if anything, even if it’s not showed in the healthiest of ways. On her side of things, her distance from Evie is because she cares, because she doesn’t think she’d be a good mother to her and she’d just do her little girl more harm than good by being around in her current mental state.
So to see or hear about those close to her dealing with shitty parents or parents that just don’t give a fuck? It pisses her off to no end because yeah, sure, her relationship with her parents sucks but at least she knows they care. And yeah, she is far from a perfect mother but at least she’s trying and doing what she can given the circumstances without potentially negatively affecting Evie.
It’s a sore spot for her, and even with her usual civility and level-headedness, she won’t hesitate to call that shit out if she sees or hears about it.
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aestherin · 5 months ago
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KEEP MY HEART
goal 32: you but in meow
NOTE: i finally finished despite procrastinating hehe this was sitting in my drafts for more than a week help me 😭
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You probably should have told Scaramouche that you have already arrived at the home address he sent.
If you did so, maybe you wouldn’t be outright welcomed by his mother instantly opening the door after a few knocks.
You’ve already seen her before during some of their games, albeit from a far distance. She looked pretty from afar, yes. But she was heavenly up close. With her long deep violet locks weaved into a simple braid, her perfect skin that gives no evidence of her being a mother of a boy already in college, and her electrifying eyes… you’re starting to realize where Scaramouche got the godly genes from.
“Good afternoon, uh— madam?” You greeted awkwardly. “I’m here to visit Scara, no, Kunikuzushi. He’s a… friend!”
At your introduction, the older woman let you inside their home and motioned you to sit on the sofa. She swiftly made her way back and forth the kitchen and provided you with a tray containing some drinks and some snacks.
You told her that she didn’t have to, but she only smiled in response. As she sat down in front of you, you started to drink from the glass, only so that you can find something to distract yourself from the awkwardness.
“So that’s why your built looked familiar. You’re probably the same woman I saw in the pictures with my son. You’re his girlfriend, right?”
You coughed.
Before you can even reply, Scaramouche’s mother motioned upstairs. “Nevermind that, I don’t want to keep you for long. My son’s room is upstairs, first door from the left.”
“Also,” she lightly muttered as you were getting ready to go upstairs. “Please do treat my son well. I’ve put him through a lot, you see.”
An apologetic smile was plastered on his mother’s face. Was this what Scaramouche meant when he was messaging you? Was his mother somehow enlightened and came to a realization about their issues? You wanted to know, but you didn’t want to pry.
Besides, the main reason why you came here was so that you could uplift Scaramouche’s mood.
“I will.”
Meanwhile, Scaramouche was cooped up in his room, restless. He’d admit it to no one, but anxiety was slowly creeping in his heart at your lack of replies to his message. Why did you suddenly stop replying? Were you getting to him safely? Did you somehow get lost and went to some place with no reception?
‘Damn it, I should’ve just picked her up,’ he thought.
‘Should I call her?’
‘But what if —‘
Three knocks brought his thoughts to a halt. “Kuni? It’s me, [Name].”
Of course it’s you. You're the only one allowed to call him that anyway.
Heavy and hurried footsteps stemmed from the other side of the door once you made your presence known.
“[Name],” he breathed immediately upon swinging his door.
You were welcomed by his disheveled yet still attractive appearance as well as the sight of his room — simple yet stylish with tints of mainly white, black, and blue. The room looked so cold, yet the comforts of his white bed helped it seem warmer. Apart from that however, a warm and furry feeling on your legs also welcomed you.
“Meow.”
You broke eye contact with Scaramouche and instead took a peek at what the little ball of black fur was doing below. His cat (as you assumed) was now cuddling you, purring restlessly against your feet.
“That’s weird.”
“Huh?”
“He usually doesn’t like strangers,” Scaramouche said.
He then eyed you as you crouched down to pick up his cat. “Well you see Kuni, they said cats tend to mirror the personalities of their owner.”
“Who the fuck even said that?” He raised his brow. “And even if that’s true, so what?”
“Well you like me, so of course Scarameow likes me.”
Scaramouche huffed. “Scarameow?”
“You didn’t give him a name, right? I feel bad not calling him anything, so I just thought of that on the spot.” You grinned. “Besides, it seems like he likes it.”
You cut yourself off by lightly poking the black cat’s nose. “Don’t you, Scarameow?”
The man just sighed at the approving purr of his own pet. He was left speechless by how easily his cat warmed up to you. It really weirded him out, considering that it was the very same cat that always just hisses at other people aside from his owner.
“But why that… horrendous name?”
You looked back at him only to flash a disapproving frown. “Horrendous? Isn’t it cute?”
“No.”
“What?” You gasped. “Can’t you see he’s literally a cat version of you?”
“It’s like he’s you… but in meow…”
He speedily brought his palm up to his lips in an attempt to conceal something. It was a poor attempt, however, as the muffled noises he tried so hard to stop forced their way out.
And for the first time in so long, he finally laughed.
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
previous . masterlist . next
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NOTE: my reference for thinking of scara's bedroom haha >> [click here]
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cxtori · 6 months ago
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Satoru Gojo ✭ Kiss Me Back
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wc: basically 5k… it wasn’t meant to be lmao
summary: based off of this thought i posted a while ago
genre: angst, fluff, drunk “confession” but it gets misunderstood, friends to lovers, silly drunk Gojo
warnings: n/a
tori’s note: I finished this fic after having it in my drafts for almost a year. I kinda strayed from how my original prompt went lol. Idk how I feel about the second half of this, I’m not a huge fan of it but y’know, it be what it be. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
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Gojo doesn’t drink often. In fact, it’s more accurate to say he never drinks. He hates alcohol. The way it tastes, the way it burns, and especially how quickly it affects his system.
He’s always been a lightweight, it only taking a few shots before he was intoxicated. But for some reason, Shoko’s teasing pressure to get him to drink got to him a lot more tonight than usual. 
It was supposed to be only one shot, then just one more. But now, here he is, a couple hours later and 6 shots down, drunk and stumbling, leaning against you for support.
You grunt as you struggle to keep the tall man vertical and walk him down the street to your car. 
“You are amazing, Y/n,” Gojo slurs, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck. You huff and roll your eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that 3 times already,” you laugh lightly. Gojo trips over his own foot, causing you to stumble and almost fall. Thankfully, you catch yourself and keep the two of you from crashing into the concrete. 
“Jeez, Toru! Are you serious?” You ask, unbelieving that he was so intoxicated that he really couldn’t walk straight. Gojo only moans miserably in response. “We’re almost there,” you sigh.
You knew how much he hated the repercussions of drinking and tried to stop him before it was too late. But he seemed to be feeling a little self-destructive tonight, so your warnings fell on deaf ears, much to your annoyance. Even so, you still felt empathetic enough to take him home yourself, turning down Nanami’s kind offer to do so.
After another block of walking and stumbling, you finally make it to your car, opening the passenger side and awkwardly shuffling around as you try to help Gojo into the seat. It felt like he was purposefully doing everything he could to make this simple task as complicated as possible. Which, honestly, you wouldn’t put past him. 
You eventually get him and his lanky limbs into the vehicle and hold back a laugh when he groans and dramatically drapes himself over your center console, arms spilling into the driver’s seat. You walk around to the other side of the car, moving his arms carefully before sitting down and pushing him to lean against the window. 
“Okay, tough guy. You still have the water Nanami gave you?” You ask. Gojo clumsily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the water bottle he somehow managed to fit in there. Damn men’s pocket sizes.
“Good, I want it empty by the time I make it to your place,” you state, turning on the car and pulling into the street.
“The whole thing?” Gojo whines. You laugh breathily, finding amusement in his drunk demeanor.
“Yes, the whole thing. Gotta stay hydrated so drink up!” You encourage. 
The white-haired man mutters a complaint as he cracks open the bottle, and you watch dumbfounded as he drains it in seconds. 
“I didn’t mean drink it all at once…” you say. Gojo shrugs and sinks further into his seat. 
You drive in silence for a few minutes, the pale, orange street lights whizzing by and the soft, white noise of the tires rolling on the pavement making the ride a peaceful, comforting experience. At least it would be if Gojo wasn’t staring holes into the side of your face. 
In his drunkenness, he’d somehow managed to misplace his glasses and blindfold, much to your dismay. You adore those brilliant blue eyes, but damn, if they weren’t intimidating as hell when they were staring you down. You do your best to ignore it, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead of you. 
You feel your heart skip a beat when a cold, calloused finger presses gently against your temple before tracing your hairline, sweeping your hair behind your ear.
“You’re so pretty,” Gojo whispers, his words barely audible. Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. 
“O-oh, umm… I- th-thank you,” you stutter horribly. Gojo hums softly as though he’s satisfied with your reaction before laughing lightly. His hand leaves your quickly heating face as he turns back to the window, slumping against the cool glass. 
After what couldn’t have possibly even been a minute, you hear the faintest snore come from the man. You poke his arm, expecting some kind of reaction. But nope, he’s out.
You take a deep breath and start blasting the AC. It suddenly feels really stuffy in here.
You soon reach his house and pull into the driveway before parking the car and climbing out. You open the passenger door, being careful to not let Gojo dump out onto the ground. You shake his shoulders, whispering to him that he was home and needed to wake up. After some gentle-turned-vigorous shaking, the man wakes up bleary eyed and a bit confused. 
“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” You tease, taking his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. He grunts, reluctantly swinging his feet out of the car and onto the ground. The moment he stands, he leans back against the car, his eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. 
“Shhhhit, why did I do that?” He slurs, the alcohol still screwing with his brain. At least he’s more coherent than 30 minutes ago. 
“Not to be like that, but I did try to stop you,” you joke.
“Shut up,” he groans. His eyes open and meet with yours, but instead of holding the annoyed glare you were expecting, they were soft, appreciative. His typically pale complexion was still dusted pink, though not nearly as flushed as earlier, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile to accompany it. 
He leans against you, his arms snaking around your waist in a loose hug, and his head resting heavily on your shoulder as he sighs. “Thank you, Y/n.”
“Why don’t you thank me when I’ve gotten you inside!” You laugh awkwardly, pushing the large man off of you. 
Gojo pouts, his soft, pink lips protruding in a way that could only be described as borderline sensual. You tear your eyes away from him and link your arm in his to walk him into the house with much less stumbling this time.
You make it inside, Gojo dragging down the hall to his room while you dig in his kitchen cabinets in search of ibuprofen. Once you’ve found what you’re looking for, you grab a glass and fill it with water before making your way to Gojo’s room.
You knock on the door, the sound echoing through the cold, empty hallway. A muffled “come in” reaches your ears and you open the door. 
You step in and your eyes land on a half-naked Gojo sitting on his bed, stopping you in your tracks. He did say to come in, didn’t he?
He looks at you, a questioning expression written on his face. With everything he’s done this evening, it’s beginning to be hard to believe he’s not purposefully trying to fluster you.
You draw in a breath and walk over to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous.
“Here, for the potential hangover,” you say, handing him the pills and water. He takes it gratefully, downing the meds and water quickly. He sets the glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk, and an odd silence follows after. 
“Well, I’m gonna head home now. G’night, Toru,” you say, turning on your heels and heading to the door. Your hand barely touches the doorknob when Gojo says your name.
“Y/n,” he calls quietly. You stop and turn to him with a questioning hum, but he doesn’t give any response back other than a waving hand, signaling for you to come back to him. You shuffle awkwardly to stand in front of him, confused about what he wants. 
He stands up, his chest almost bumping against yours as he does so. You begin to take a step back, but before you can, his hands are on your waist, holding you in place. You look up at him to ask what he’s doing, but the words get stuck in your throat the moment your eyes meet his.
Those bright, cerulean eyes that were so often hidden from the world, were looking at you with such care and fondness that it made your chest tighten. 
Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, his warm, soft lips are pressing tenderly against yours. 
Your tense muscles relax and eyes flutter shut as your lips push back against his. His hands grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him before one lifts the back of your shirt, fingers dragging slowly over your skin. 
You sigh into him, your own hands traveling up his arms, to his neck, eventually finding home in his silky hair. His other hand moves from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss. 
His tongue darts out and sweeps across your lips and the faintest lingering taste of bitter alcohol bites your tastebuds, snapping you back to reality. It’s only then that you remember who you’re kissing, where you are, and how you got there. 
Your eyes fly open and hands move to his chest, pushing him away from you harshly. Gojo loses his balance, landing back into a sitting position on his bed, his once peaceful expression now shocked and confused. 
Your hand covers your mouth, surprised by your own actions. It’s only a second or two that you stay there, staring at each other before you decide that you should definitely leave.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you say, wasting no time in leaving his room and ignoring his calls for you. You jump into your car and start the engine before your door is even closed.
What were you thinking? He’s the drunkest he’s been in ages, how could you let that happen? You curse yourself as you drive home, frustrated that you allowed such a thing when your friend was in such a vulnerable state.
 You make it home and park in the driveway, but you don’t leave. You sit in your car and stare blankly at the steering wheel as the full weight of regret begins to sink in. 
You’ve desperately wanted that man to kiss you for years now. But not like this! Not when he was intoxicated and most likely not thinking straight. You wanted a genuine kiss; one he gave you because he truly wanted to. Not because his drunk-self just wanted attention.
How are you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps after this?
You’ll just have to lie. You’ll tell him that it was just a slip up, that you were caught off guard. That he kissed you and- dammit, you kissed him back! And not only that, you were wrapping your arms around him. You can’t play off your feelings for him when you kissed him like that!
You groan painfully as you open your door and force yourself into your house, trudging your way to your room. You change your clothes and crawl into bed before plugging your phone in. The screen lights up with the red battery, which disappears quickly, revealing a missed call and several texts from Gojo.
I’m sorry Y/n. Can we please talk?
It wasn’t what you think
Y/n?
Hello?
He almost never texts you, let alone several times in a row. But you can’t find it in you to respond. You turn off your phone and stare at your ceiling for what feels like an eternity, the moment replaying in your mind on repeat. 
It wasn’t what you think? What is he assuming you think?
You raise a finger to your mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips on yours as you trace over them. 
It was so warm, so sweet. The way he held you close to him, so strong yet gentle. The way his thumb stroked over your face so tenderly. Maybe… it was real.
No. You can’t allow yourself to believe it was genuine and get your hopes up, you can’t.
You roll over onto your side just as your screen lights up once more. You take a glance at it and find another text from Gojo. 
I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please let me explain.
A new wave of anxiety washes over you when you realize you’ll have to see him tomorrow. You do work at the same school after all. You don’t have a few days to process this or even find a way to respond. 
You wrap tighter into yourself and painful tears fill your eyes, not taking long before they’re streaming down your face and soaking into your pillow. You just want the earth to open and swallow you. 
Your only comfort is in the slim possibility that he was still drunk enough to have a chance of not having clear memories the next day. Maybe he’d wake up, see the messages he’d sent you and not even remember what it was about. 
You know it’s a foolish hope. He wasn’t drunk enough during that kiss to have no recollection of it. Even so, it’s the only thought that calms you down enough to fall asleep. 
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Okay, all you have to do is file a couple reports, meet with Ijichi and Nitta, and check in with Shoko on a new corpse. You don’t even have to be on campus the whole day, just do your few tasks and leave. 
You were not going to talk to Gojo today. You’re not sure your heart can handle it right now. You’ve barely even processed what happened last night. It’s like your mind is trying to convince you it was a dream. But the unanswered texts still sitting in your inbox say otherwise. 
You decided you would do your best to avoid the inevitable conversation. You’re sure that when he sees you, he’ll likely confront you about it. But, if you were with others, you knew he’d keep his mouth shut. You can’t hide from him, but you make damn sure he can’t catch you alone.
You know you’ll have to talk about it eventually, just not today. And maybe not tomorrow. Or the day after that.
You take a deep breath as you walk into the school and head for Yaga’s office. You’re not too worried about bumping into Gojo here as he usually avoids this part of the school simply because he’s afraid of running into Yaga and being asked to do something he doesn’t want to. 
You make it there without incident and knock on Yaga’s door before entering. Thankfully, your meeting doesn’t last long as you just have to turn in your reports and give him a quick rundown of your past week’s assignments.
Next was finding Ijichi and Nitta. Which meant going to the more common areas of the school. Which meant risking running into Gojo.
At this point, you were just hoping he decided to go MIA today as he typically did. Or maybe he’d be too hung over to even bother getting out of bed. Whatever the case may be, you just hoped he wouldn’t be behind the door to which you are about to enter.
You turn the doorknob quietly and poke your head in, finding no one but Ijichi sitting at a desk looking over a stack of papers, and you feel relieved. You step inside and Ijichi looks up, a small smile appearing once he sees it’s you.
“Ahh, Y/n. You’re a bit early,” he greets kindly. 
“Haha, yeah. My meeting with Yaga didn’t take as long as expected,” you laugh softly as you walk over to the desk and take a seat across from the man. “Where’s Nitta?”
“She’s currently out with the first years. They were sent to investigate the disturbance you reported a few days ago. Turns out it was just a few Grade 3 curses roaming around.” Ijichi replies.
He shuffles the papers spread out on the desk into a few separate piles before picking up each one, shaking them into neat stacks and paper clipping them together.
“Oh, that’s good to know,” you say with a smile. “So, you said you and Nitta needed something?”
“Oh, yes. We wanted your opinion on-”
“Gooood morning!” A familiar voice calls happily as the door swings open. You hunch over in your chair and glue your eyes to the papers in front of you, not daring to look at the man. You didn’t think you would run into him this soon.
“Oh, goodmorning, Gojo,” Ijichi says.
“Ijichi,” Gojo greets and nods to his co-worker.
He turns to you, your eyes still studying the reports laying in front of you. It was obvious you weren’t reading them though, considering they were upside down to you. “Y/n,” he says quietly.
You still refuse to look at him, mumbling a barely audible “good morning” in return.
Ijichi, sensing some tension, clears his throat and returns to the matter that brought you here in the first place. He only had a few questions, wanting your opinion on which recent cases should be assigned to which students. It wasn’t long before you had fulfilled your need and could leave.
You say your goodbyes, stand from the desk and make your way to the door, still having not spared Gojo, who was leaning against one of the couches, even a glance.
Despite hiding his eyes behind that dark blindfold of his, you could tell he’d been staring at you the whole time. You could practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin. But, just as you expected, he didn’t dare bring up anything about the previous night with Ijichi in the room.
You walk out the door, thankfully leaving Gojo behind it. But you weren’t sure how long he’d stay there. You make your way quickly through the halls as you head towards the morgue. You open the door and step inside, the cold air making your body shake with a chill. 
You walk through, but find no sign of Shoko. Deciding that she must be in the office, you turn and start making your way over, it being just a couple doors down the hall. 
You step outside of the morgue and about jump out of your skin when you’re met with blinding white hair. Gojo. Of course. You should’ve known he would catch up to you. 
You stand there for a moment, him standing in the doorway and therefore blocking your exit. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, not really, only giving him quick glances. It must be so easy for him to make “eye contact” when he doesn’t really have to.
“Can we talk?” He says, his voice taking on an unusually shaky and serious tone, and you suppress a sigh. Any hope you had of him not remembering last night shattered with those three words.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quietly, desperately wanting to avoid the impending conversation. 
“Y/n,” he says, his large hand reaching carefully for your arm. You move quickly, avoiding his grasp.
“I don’t want to talk,” you say and push past him, making it through the doorway. You speed walk down the hallway to the morgue office, thankful that it’s just a few doors down. Gojo begins to say something but before he can, you’re knocking on the door, shutting him up quickly.
Shoko opens the door only a moment after you’ve knocked, silently stepping aside to let you in once she sees it’s you. Her neutral expression breaks a bit when she sees who’s behind you.
“Gojo, wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she says, referring to the rough condition he was in last night.
“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” He chuckles. He looks at you as he says this and you feel your face grow warm. Shoko walks over to her desk and shuffles through the various items in search of something.
“How are you feeling? You haven’t had that many drinks in a long time,” She asks curiously.
“I feel great actually. Y/n is a pretty good caretaker,” he says, once again looking over at you. “She’s the reason I’m not hungover.”
Yep, you certainly were. Maybe you should’ve skipped the water and ibuprofen. But that was before what happened. Past you had no idea that future you would be cursing that decision.
“He wasn’t too much trouble was he? Gojo’s always annoying when he’s drunk.” Like he’s not annoying when he isn’t drunk.
“He was fine,” you say plainly, wanting to move on from the topic.
“Fine is one way to put it,” Gojo says, an obnoxiously flirty smirk on his face. What happened to the serious and borderline nervous Gojo you had just a moment ago? Bring him back please.
“Maybe I should’ve let Nanami take you when he’d offered,” you mutter. Shoko turns back around to you, confused by the comments being made.
“Is that really what you would’ve wanted?” Gojo asks. 
“If it means we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, then yes.”
Shoko looks between the two of you, reading the looks on your faces and expertly deciphering that this was not a conversation she needed (or wanted) to be a part of.
“I’m not getting involved in this,” Shoko mutters as she collects her things and quickly leaves the room, abandoning you in this anxiety-inducing situation. “We can meet later, Y/n.”
“Ah! Wait, Shoko!” You call, but she ignores you and walks out the door. Well, this certainly isn’t what you wanted to happen. Now you had no excuse to leave and apparently didn’t have anyone to have your back. You knew Shoko saw your plea for help in your eyes and she actively ignored it. But, it is Shoko. She always avoids getting involved in things that don’t concern her.
The silence that follows Shoko’s leaving is so incredibly deafening and you hope the ground will open up beneath you. You debate leaving, but you know that Gojo will just follow you. There was no escaping it now. Dammit, and you were so close to getting out without speaking to him.
You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the desk, your eyes glued to the floor.
“Y/n,” Gojo speaks softly. You refuse to look at him. You can’t. You don’t know what will happen if you do. “Y/n.” He steps closer to you and you sink further into yourself, feeling your throat tighten. “Let me explai-”
“What did you mean?” You close your eyes, finding yourself talking before you can even comprehend the words leaving your mouth.
“What?” Gojo says, confused. You sigh, annoyed with yourself now for having said anything.
“Your text. You said it wasn’t what I thought it was. What did you mean?” Gojo looks at you. Well, you assume he’s looking at you. He could be looking at the wall behind you for all you knew.
“I…” Gojo starts but doesn’t finish. He sighs quietly and leans against the chair in front of you. He doesn’t attempt to speak again for a long moment and you begin to wonder if he even plans to. And you’re right, he doesn’t speak. But instead, his hand reaches for the dark blindfold hiding his eyes, and he pulls it down around his neck, his snow white hair falling into his face.
You tear your eyes away as soon as he does, not able to bear even the thought of looking at him directly in those blue irises. Luckily, you’re not tempted to as he keeps his head down, his hair shielding his eyes from your view.
“I remember everything from last night,” the man says finally. You feel your heart sink. You knew he remembered, but for some reason, hearing him say so only made your anxiety worsen. “You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye last night,” he says with a mild, teasing tone, though it was made with minimal effort, the tension in the room making it hard to joke playfully.
Your arms tighten around you and your throat burns, your eyes remaining focused on everything but him. 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be leaving in such a hurry either,” you say, risking your voice breaking into tears. Gojo chuckles.
“I thought you’d stay for a bit longer after the way you were kissing me,” He jokes, and this time it has his usual lightheartedness to it. Despite that, you feel your blood run hot through your body and for a moment you forget that you’re avoiding looking at him. Your eyes whip over to see him already looking at you, a smirk on his lips.
“Wha- you kissed me!” You whisper yell, afraid that someone outside may hear you. You can’t believe him. HE made a move on YOU, and yet he wants to talk about the way you were kissing HIM?
“Buuut, you kissed me back!” He says accusingly but airily. You close your mouth at this. He’s right, you did. And this is just what you were afraid of, him realizing that you kissing him back meant you actually enjoyed it if only a little. You couldn’t hide it.
“And I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You turn your gaze away just in time to miss the way Gojo’s face twitches and his smile drops. Before you can’t stop yourself, you continue to speak, the coil in your throat snapping and the tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me to begin with. But please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. I know you were drunk and it was a mistake just… Please, don’t tell me that.” 
The silence that follows your statement is so quiet that you can hear Gojo’s uneven breaths alongside your own. You feel the urge to run, to walk out the doors and never turn back. To find a hole somewhere to bury yourself in, never to resurface.
“You think I made a mistake?” Gojo’s words barely reach your ears, his voice so soft you almost have to strain to hear it. He looks at you, completely dejected. “Even if I did feel that way, do you think I’d come here to mock you for it? Do you think I’d be that cruel?” The hurt in his voice is so obvious that you can feel it yourself.
“I… I don’t know.” Truthfully, you did know. You knew he wouldn’t do something like that. He may be annoying, but he’s not cruel. It was out of your own fear of the outcome that you were avoiding this conversation. But then, two words in his statement stand out to you. 
Even if. 
Meaning even if it was a mistake. Meaning he didn’t think it was?
The tears welling in your eyes begin to fall when you dare to look up at him, his own already on you. But you don’t look away this time.
“Would you have kissed me if you were sober?” You ask quietly. Gojo’s shoulders slump and his face grows longer at your words. He takes a cautious step towards you, testing to see if you’ll back away. And you don’t.
“Y/n, I didn’t kiss you because I was drunk,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. He takes another step forward, this time reaching out a hand to place on your arm, and you don’t pull away.
“That’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t what you thought. I knew you figured it was an alcohol-influenced choice. And while the alcohol admittedly may have had something to do with it, that wasn’t why I did it.” Your vision blurs as you begin to cry, your tears feeling like rivers of fire as they flow down your cheeks.
“I did it because I wanted to, Y/n,” he admits. He lifts a hand to your face, wiping your tears as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.  “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice. And one I don’t regret.”
You close your eyes, not being able to see with them open anyway. His other hand moves from your arm to swipe at your tears, both hands now cupping your face tenderly.
“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble. You raise your hands to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your thumbs stroking over the back of his hands. You open your eyes, your vision clear enough to see him looking at you fondly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His soft lips that, in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking about all morning.
Your gaze must have lingered on his mouth for a moment too long as his smile widens. He comes closer to you, his head towering over yours and his hands guide your face to continue looking at him.
“You don’t have to say anything right now. But.” He leans his face to yours, his warm breath against your lips. “I would like to kiss you again. And I hope you won’t run away this time.” His voice lilts in that familiar, teasing tone and your heart twists.
“I won’t,” you say with a breathless laugh. 
His large hands continue to hold your head as he moves forward, wasting no time in putting his lips against yours in a passionate but tender kiss.
And this time, you let yourself kiss him back.
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retroellie · 2 years ago
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Twisted Game
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Summary: After the prison collapses, you and Daryl are stuck on the road. After chugging down some moonshine a game of "Never have i ever" turns into a night you'll never forget.
A/N: I've had this in my drafts for weeks, i finished it up all today so it might be choppy. But this shit was the horniess thing i have ever written God damn. Also, the way this gif has a choke hold on me, HIS TUMMY, i simply cannot.
Warnings: NSFW, Loss of virginity, unprotected sex, Oral sex, dirty talk and squirting
Word count: 6.9K
“So you understand the game now?” You asked the man sitting across from you.
He gave you a look, blue eyes boring into your skin as you raised your brow to him. You had butterflies in your stomach, whether that was because you were sitting across from a beautiful man or it was the moonshine kicking In. He hesitated, knowing this game could end up in hurt feelings or you being completely grossed out about his redneck life. Opening up to people wasn’t Daryl’s strong suit.
“Fine…” he mumbled.
You guys had been on the road for days, only stopping to set up camp to rest and cook your squirrels or whatever Daryl had hunted for y’all. You missed your family, your family that you wouldn’t even look at twice before all this but yet they were the closest people to you. Daryl was unfortunately a part of that little family but he made you feel like a burden, he was never your favorite person ever but at this moment he was.
He was the only one left to you, he was the only person left of your entire fucked up family you had. You had broken down so many times, crying at night hoping Daryl didn’t hear… he always did. He wasn’t too good at feelings so he never said anything but he wanted to. But here y’all were now, sipping on moonshine after Daryl had picked it out for you. He thought maybe it would take your mind off things… if it ever will be taken off your mind.
“Okay great!! I’ll start!” You said, smiling wildly as you thought about what you’d say.
You were usually well reserved, never really opening up to anyone but carol and maybe Rick at times. But you were tipsy, the moonshine burning low into your stomach and you were let loose. If someone were to tell you that you would be in an abandoned trailer with moonshine in your hand next to a pretty redneck?? You’d laugh in their face.
“I’ve never…. Drank before… I mean besides this.” You said, smirking over at Daryl.
Daryl rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his moonshine before putting it back down. It amazed you how he didn’t even make a face when he downed it, he’s definitely used to drinking you thought.
“Okay… it’s your turn!” You said
Daryl thought, there’s not much he hasn’t done so this is trying to rack his brain to find out something you have done that he hasn’t… It was hard.
“I never read a book and enjoyed it…” he said
This caused you to chuckle lightly, it was silly that he’d hadn’t enjoyed a book ever… completely opposite of you, books helped you get through the day sometimes.
“Really?? Like never?” You asked
He nodded, letting a smirk on his face at your reaction. He didn’t like you too much but he can’t deny your beauty, especially your smile.. You brought your cup up to your lips and took a swig. You tried to not make a face, trying to mimic what Daryl did but you couldn’t… this shit tasted awful.
“Yuck.. I’ve never liked drinking…” you joked, sticking your tongue out and shivering.
“It ain’t for everyone… I just like the buzz.” He said, sipping on his moonshine willingly. You gagged jokingly.
“Yeah… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this shit.” You said, trying to swallow down the burning sensation as it creeped down your throat.
You guys went back and forth for a bit, Daryl saying something he hasn’t done which caused you to drink and then you saying something you haven’t done causing Daryl to drink. It’s funny how a simple game could bring you two closer together which honestly allowed you to ease up and just sit back for a minute. You weren’t thinking any thoughts but what you haven’t done in your life, it really made you think about how you honestly haven’t really lived.
You liked seeing Daryl smile, you’ve never really been able to see that smile of his but now you were addicted to it. You found yourself cracking stupid jokes just go see it and honestly, this might be the moonshine talking, you couldn’t help the dull ache that it created deep within you.
“Okay hmmm I’ve never…” you thought once again… thinking of any embarrassing thing you haven’t done.
You don’t know what came over you but you just blurted the first thing that came into your head, it was strange… like the moonshine was taking over. Your lips had become loose, not able to control them because you were far too gone for that now.
“I’ve never had sex” you were surprised you even said it and it kinda grossed you out.
You were definitely not yourself right now, you would never willingly say that to anyone. You weren’t ashamed of it but it can be a little embarrassing due to the fact you’re in your 20s and still a virgin. It’s not that you didn’t want to or you were actively trying to not have sex, it’s just something that never crossed your mind ever when you were with a person. You’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends, all of them have tried but you always told them you weren’t ready for it.
You looked up at Daryl, seeing that his facial expression never changed… but instead he lifted his cup to his lips and chugged down his moonshine.
“Sorry I…” you started, not able to finish before Daryl asked a hard hitting question.
“Why not?” He asked, setting his cup down.
You were surprised Daryl even continued the game after that, it was all fun and games… no gross shit until you brought that up. You were embarrassed, wishing you never said anything but honestly intrigued about what Daryl would say about the subject.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring down into your moonshine glass. “I've just never been interested enough in someone to do it…”
You looked up at Daryl, making sure he was paying attention to you before you went on. He was staring at you with a different look in his eyes than usual, it wasn’t his usual hard stare he gave everyone. It was softer but still with the same hardness, his pupils were bigger… almost black as he bore them into your skin. When you say you weren’t yourself right now, you meant it. Without even having to rack out your courage from your brain, you looked daryl right in the eyes.
“Until now…” you confessed which created an even deeper ache within you.
Daryl’s eyes stayed on you, not flinching or moving off of you… not even once. You thought maybe he didn’t hear you at first and honestly deep down you wish he didn’t, you were embarrassed at your sudden neediness. Then you thought maybe he didn’t get your hint, maybe you were being too subtle about it. You hoped maybe he would be able to drop it so it would save the embarrassment but what you didn’t know was it lit something inside Daryl.
His blood ran cold when you said that, he watched as you gave him a clueless, innocent look as those filth covered words slipped out of your mouth. Daryl hated how childish you were, how cheery and how you were so optimistic about the world ending… yet he couldn’t shake the thought of you below him as you sucked his dick, he imagined you would be so sloppy with it. He could imagine your drool spill over his cock, making a mess out of yourself. His favorite day dream was you on your hands and knees in front of him as he rammed himself so deep inside you, his hands shoving you down into the pillow as you took his length like the whore you are… or the whore he thought you were.
You being a virgin struck a different feeling into Daryl, you had never been touched before and you never even wanted to be touched… except by Daryl. It was almost as if you waited for him, waited for him to take what was his. He just hates how it had to be this way, after losing everyone and getting drunk on moonshine but Daryl didn’t mind. Daryl had been waiting for this moment since he met you and knowing you’re a virgin was enough to send him off the edge.
“Take your shirt off…” was the only thing he said, suddenly you sobered up.
You were now hyper aware of everything happening in this moment. You could hear the walker outside, you could feel the carpet underneath you and how filthy it was, you could hear every breath that came out of Daryl… they were much deeper than before. You took a moment to let his words linger, making sure you heard him right but after a moment… you did what you were told.
You slowly unbuttoned your shirt, each button showing more and more skin to Daryl causing his breath to hitch. You heated up with every button, finally getting to the final one and then allowing your shirt to slide down your arms. You sat tall, watching Daryl’s eyes scan over your breast. Daryl sat there for a minute, just staring as your face began to heat up more than it already had been.
Then after a moment of hesitation, Daryl stood up and made his way over to where you sat on the floor. You could see how hard he was through his pants, his big cock standing to attention causing your mouth to water slightly.
“You really want this?” He asked, staring down at you as you sat on your knees like an obedient whore you thought you’d never become
You nodded violently, hands scratching at your thighs as you held back the need to touch him. Daryl just chuckled at your actions, running a hand through your hair, getting a good look at your innocence before he completely destroyed you.
“Then you're gonna have to work for it…” he grinned, taking his other hand so he could undo his belt slowly.
You were nervous to say the least, you had dreamed about this for months but it finally freaked you out. Not to mention you’ve never done anything like this, what if you weren’t good enough for him. You watched as he slowly undid his pants, watching as he went teasingly slow. When his pants were successfully undone, he pulled them down so they were down to his knees. You could see his cock straining against his boxers, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction.
Then Daryl shed the last piece of clothing that covered himself, pulling down his underwear which allowed his cock to spring free. You felt a whole world wind of emotions, excitement, nervousness and pleasure all running deep within your bones. He was much bigger than you expected, causing everything wrong to go through your brain. Will it fit? Is it going to rip you open? Will you be able to take him? Daryl saw your nervousness, giving you a reassuring scratch on the head.
“We don’t have to… we can stop now.” He said, lifting your head to look up at him.
He gave you the softest look you had ever seen him give anyone, his fingers danced along your chin as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. You shook your head, readjusting yourself on your knees but really… you were trying to silence the ache that was affecting your entire body at this point.
“No… I mean, yes I want this I just..” you paused, biting your lip nervously. “I’ve never done this before… like any of it… I don’t know how.”
You tried to explain it the best you could, you thought you sounded stupid but Daryl knew what you meant. Daryl gave you a smirk, setting his hand on his dick as he slowly pumped it… you saw it twitch out of the corner of your eye. Daryl placed his hand back in your hair, not roughly, not trying to force your head down on him but it was comforting. His hand lightly scratched your scalp, trying to ease your nervousness.
“I’ll teach ya, ya can’t really mess it up so don’t worry.” He joked, even despite your nervousness you let out a chuckle.
You stood taller on your knees, coming face to face with his throbbing cock. You watched as Daryl thrusted his cock into his hand, watching as he set a slow pace for it. He engulfed his entire length in his hand, making sure to slide his fingers along the tip at times.
“Since you are a beginner, go ahead and start at the tip.” He spoke, watching as you looked up at him and then down at his cock once more.
You nodded, getting your lips wet as you opened your mouth and attached it to the pink flush tip. You saw a porno or two, seeing how the girls would give the tip kisses and tiny licks to tease the man. You started off making circles with your tongue on the tip, pulling off to set small kisses to it before going back. Daryl’s groans caused you to go a bit deeper, doing the same thing with the top of his cock.
“Good girl…” he groaned out, his hand in your hair giving you a reassuring scratch once again. “Now when ya think yer ready… hollow your cheeks and take as much as you can of me.”
You moaned at the pet name, loving the way he was talking you through it all. You started small once again, taking in small amounts of him. Your tongue went crazy on him, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it but it made his cock twitch in your mouth so you thought maybe you were doing it right. You bobbed your head up and down, each time you took more and more of him in your mouth.
You could feel Daryl tense up, you could see how hard he was trying to stop his hips from bucking… oh how he wanted to watch you choke and slobber all over his cock, but Daryl wasn’t that mean. Your first time was already going to be in a piss stained trailer, he might as well let you take your time with it. Daryl’s hand was now grabbing at your hair, which part of it was to help you bob your head up and down at a good pace, the other part was because your mouth just felt too good on him… he needed to grab something.
“Fuck… y/n, your doing so fucking good.” He moaned, you would have never guessed Daryl Dixon had such pretty moans.
You smiled on his cock, the praise was getting to your head slightly, you would even say it was causing you to get too big of a head. You attempted to take all of him all at once, you just wanted to make him feel good but you completely forgot about the fact you hadn’t done this before, you were still so new to it. You took your mouth almost all the way off before shoving his cock right down your throat, you gagged causing you to retract back from it.
“Woah there…” Daryl said, seeing how your eyes started to water slightly and your lips were rubbed raw from his cock. “Ya can’t take all of me… not yet at least, you have to start slow bunny.”
“I’m sorry…” you said pathetically, you had become so needy and the only thing you wanted to do was make Daryl feel good.
“ ‘s okay, you can try again if you want or we can stop.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
You looked down at Daryl’s spit covered cock, the ache in your cunt was too much to bear now. You didn’t want to continue but you needed to, it felt like you were out of oxygen in the stuffy room you had been in and the only thing that could ease that feeling was Daryl. Even through your embarrassment you wanted to make it up to Daryl and suck the life out of him.
You looked up into Daryl’s eyes, placing your mouth on his cock once more. You bobbed your head at the same pace you had been before, making sure to not take your eyes off Daryl as his eyes closed slightly. You were much slower  this time, taking in as much as you could, licking up the small vein that laid on the back of his cock. You tried this time to have a small head about it, not get too cocky so as to not embarrass yourself again.
You had gotten to the point where you couldn’t take anymore, Daryl’s hand in your hair wouldn’t let you go that far anymore. Although seeing you choke on his cock gave him a power rush, he would never make you do it if you couldn’t.
“If you can’t take much more, you can use your hands on the rest.” He stated, reaching for your hand and you gave it to him. He placed your hand on the base of his cock, the small section you could not fit in your mouth. “Keep it at the pace yer mouth is going… there ya go.”
You were doing great so far or at least you thought. His cock felt comfortable in your mouth, although you wanted to go deeper, you wanted him all in your mouth but you knew what happened then. You watched as Daryl gripped into the table behind him, knuckles turning white as he had a violent grip on it. His head was thrown back, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. You liked what you were doing to him, how hard he had to keep himself contained. Who knew that you could do this to someone like Daryl Dixon.
“Doing so good y/n… fuck ‘m gonna cum..” he groaned, hand gripping harder at your scalp. “Gonna cum all over those tits…”
The idea excited you, the idea of you covered in Daryl’s cum, watching as he covered your tits with his seed. You picked up the already fast pace on his cock, taking him further into your mouth. He had gotten quite good at it, a little over half of his cock was fitted deep within your mouth and you could probably take in more if you really tried.
You could feel Daryl’s cock twitch more and more, his hips starting to buck into your mouth slightly, not enough to gag you on him but enough to feel in the back of your throat. You sucked harder, wanting to see how pretty he looked as he came especially when he came from you sucking his cock.
“Shit.. gonna cum…” he said once more, pulling you off of him with his hand and then placing his hand on his cock. “Pull your bra down… lemme see those pretty tits hm?”
You did as you were told, pulling your bra down so your tits were exposed to him. He gripped his cock harshly, starting his thrust at a fast pace as he looked down at you. Your eyes were lust blown and slightly teary, your mouth was wet with your own spit which had dribbled down onto your tits, your tits heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Daryl grunted as he thrusted into his hand, his hand that was in your hair reached down to grab one of your breasts.
He fondled it in his hand, he was delicate with it though. Pinching the skin softly as not to hurt you, but his hips snapped violently against his own hand. You watched as his face was engulfed by pleasure, watching as his orgasm took over his body. Daryl thrusted a few more times into his hands as his cock spilled his cum all over your tits, exactly where he said he was. He pumped himself through his orgasm, the ropes of cum landing perfectly on your tits. You were too busy watching as his face looked so angelic as he came on you, doing the most disgusting thing but still looking so pretty while doing it.
Daryl milked himself onto you, almost completely covering you with himself. Daryl slowly came down from his high, cock still throbbing as it became hard again. You could do nothing but watch, watch as Daryl literally lost his mind for 20 seconds and then became his composed self after.
“Good girl… you did good for me.” He breathed out, moving strands of your hair from your face so he can get a good look at you once again. You were so obedient to him, it turned Daryl on to the max. “You still want me to fuck you?”
You nodded, pressing your thighs together once again. The ache just wouldn’t go away without him fucking you, you couldn’t keep yourself contained anymore. If you had to beg Daryl to fuck you, you would in a heart beat. Daryl nodded down at you, looking around the trailer… for something.
“I’m not gonna fuck you on a dirty floor, I’ll go get a sheet for the couch.” He said, walking back into the trailer. Leaving you there with his cum coating your tits.
You were so ready, you didn’t think you could be this ready for anything but you were. You tried to sit still but you couldn’t, you fidgeted on your knees trying to keep yourself from touching yourself then and there. Your nervousness nowhere to be seen, you were suddenly sober and ready for the pretty redneck to go ram you into the floor.
“You ready?” Daryl said from behind you, you were so in your own head you didn’t even realize Daryl had sprawled and put a sheet on the couch already. You looked up at him, seeing him hold out his hand for you to grab.
You looked down at his hand and then back up at him, with a smile, you took his hand in yours. He helped you up onto your feet but that didn’t last long before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness but he didn’t try to stop you, no he just grabbed onto your hips and pulled you closer to him.
You slipped your tongue within his mouth, feeling every crevice of his mouth as his tongue fought with yours. As you were too busy trying to tongue fuck his mouth Daryl had walked you back onto the couch, knocking things off of tables as he did so. He laid you on the couch, your legs wrapped around him tightly. He supported himself with his arms but you pulled him down on top of you fully, wanting to feel his warmth in you as much as you could.
Daryl let it happen, letting you do whatever you needed to make yourself comfortable. Daryl snaked a hand down your body, creeping them into your pants and underwear as he slipped a finger through your slit. The sudden touch on your bundle of nerves caused you to gasp, no one had ever touched you there before and his rough hands had felt they were made for it. After Daryl had collected a good amount of slick on his fingers, he pulled it out of your pants and placed his fingers in his mouth.
“So wet… god can’t wait to fuck you.” He said, pulling you in for another kiss so you could taste yourself.
The makeout session didn’t take too long because as you were too lost in Daryl’s lips, he was pulling the rest of your clothing off along with his. When you had finally pulled away from his lips, you both were completely naked and your bodies were pressed together in one sticky and sweaty mess. Daryl looked down at you as he rubbed his cock between your slit, allowing himself to get as wet as possible.
“Are you ready for me bunny?” He asked, brushing your hair with his hands comfortably so you were feeling as safe as he could.
“I’m ready Daryl…” you whispered, pecking his lips softly.
Daryl loved how soft and sweet you were but he knew what came next, the sting of him stretching you out and the pain of your experience. Daryl wanted this probably as much as you but he hated being the one to take your virginity, he didn’t want to pain you in any way especially if he couldn’t control the pain. Down the road he’d show you good types of pain, how pain can make you feel good but this isn’t one of the pains he would want you to experience.
“It’s gonna hurt but only for a minute okay? You tell me when you want me to stop.” He stated, watching as you nodded.
You were too lust driven to understand the meaning of his words, you weren’t expecting to hurt that bad. Daryl nodded, grabbing onto your hand so you could squeeze it if needed. He lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in slightly. He watched as your brows furrowed and your eyes closed, he could tell you were already starting to feel the sting. He went in deeper, hoping it didn’t feel too much different but your yelp proved differently.
“ ‘m sorry..” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw.
Daryl could feel your hand squeeze his harshly, you took in a harsh breath as the sting continued as he pushed more of himself in. He once again dragged his fingers down your body so he could rub the bundle of nerves, hoping that would take your mind off the pain for maybe a moment so he could push more of himself in you.
You felt like being ripped open but it was a weird good way, it wasn’t something you would like to feel any longer but it felt nice to know It was Daryl Dixon's pretty cock that was causing you this pain. Daryl tried to be quick with it, trying to shove himself in without causing too much pain. His quick work on your clit made it a little less painful, now the pain and pleasure mixing together to make a beautiful feeling deep in your stomach. It was complete hell for Daryl, he was only seconds away from going completely feral and his patients were wearing thin. He kept composure, trying to just focus on the way your face scrunched in pain.
“Are you almost in…” you gasped as he continued to ever so slowly inch into you.
He was almost half way in, he took moments to allow you to adjust to his size here and there but he was trying to make this go as fast as possible so you were able to feel our pleasure. You were soaked to say the least so Daryl was slipping right in, it’s just the pain and your contracting walls that caused his speed.
“Almost there… just a little more bunny.” He said, suddenly liking the pet name he’d given to you.
He continued to slide himself in slowly, only picking up the speed on your clit to make it easier for you all the while he peppered your neck with love bites. Daryl wasn’t a very affectionate man but right now he had a mission to make you feel as safe as he could make you and if he had to break down all his walls, he would. You had started to get a little fidgety, wanting to reject his cock out of you but also wanting him inside you fully… you craved it. Your body was heating up, your eyes filled with tears as the sting became so much and moans had slipped your lips like water out of a faucet.
You had never felt quite like this before, sure you’d touch yourself at night and one time you had dry humped one of your exes but it was nothing like this. You felt so full yet so empty all at the same time, you needed and wanted more even throughout the pain that coursed through your body. When you thought you were going inside, you felt Daryl’s hips fully against yours. You swear you could feel him inside your guts, it was such a beautiful feeling… being stretched out by his cock, the cock you had made cum no more than 10 minutes ago. You were in heaven…
“ ‘m in… just tell me when to move.” He whispered, landing a kiss on your tear streaked face.
You dug your nails into Daryl, trying to wait till the dull sting had stopped. It wasn’t too bad now, after a bit it had become nothing but an annoying ache but you weren’t ready for him to pound you yet. You stayed there, allowing your walls to get used to him. Daryl held back with everything he had, your velvet walls took his cock so well and he couldn’t wait to fuck them until they were worn down. Daryl couldn’t even day dream how good this feeling would feel, not even his hand could mimic the feeling of it.
You had completely molded to him, causing your walls to twitch slightly and your hips to buck into him. You could hear Daryl grunt into your ear as you teased him with your hips, you knew how hard he was trying to not hurt you… you thought it was sweet, so sweet that you wanted him to feel your appreciation.
“ You… can move now..” you said through a strangled moan.
That’s all Daryl needed, he started slow… teasingly slow even though he wanted nothing more than to slam into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge already, with the way his hand had taken a slow speed to your clit and how his cock was slowly bucking in and out of you… you could cum in seconds. Daryl kept his pace, his hand still in yours as he so softly pecked your lips.
Your moans filled the room, the annoying ache, the sting, the stretching no longer paining you anymore, it was now just pure pleasure. You were needing Daryl to speed up, you tried to buck your hips into his but your hips were sore and you couldn’t quite keep a good pace before exhausting yourself out. Daryl knew what you wanted though, he saw your face contort from pain to pleasure in a matter of seconds, he knew you were ready for a good pounding.
“I’m gonna move ya okay?” He said, asking for consent before he did pretty much anything.
“I don’t care… just go faster please!” You whined, causing Daryl to chuckle at your needy behavior.
Daryl sat up, seeing you pout as he took himself out. You asked for more but he gave you less, you were shitty but you weren’t upset for long. Daryl manhandled you basically, smacking your butt lightly to give you the hint to turn around. You did what he wanted, turning around in your hands and knees before Daryl pushed you down until only your front was pushed down into the sheets.
You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed cunt, you slightly whined due to the fact you couldn’t see Daryl. You never even thought the situation of you not seeing Daryl would give you any type of distress but here you were, ass up and waiting for Daryl to fuck you. Daryl got himself comfortable behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he looked down at your face pushed into the pillows.
“You okay? Need another pillow or a blanket?” He asked, watching you get frustrated with him.
“Jesus Christ! Daryl just fuck me!!” You yelled, loud enough for the walker outside to hear.
Daryl just chuckled, lining his throbbing cock up with your cunt once more before he pushed himself in again. You were still very much adjusted to his size, it felt like a hole inside you was filled as he did so… which literally happened but felt more hypothetical in the moment. Daryl started with his slow pace once again, this time only staying with it for mere seconds before he sped up. You twisted your hands in the sheets as his cock hit your g-spot every single thrust.
You were already on the edge before, the knot in your stomach had become annoyingly unbearable as Daryl sped his thrusts up. You couldn’t handle it, you felt like a hungry mad man who had just come across water for the first time in years. You could do much to stop yourself from coming up, you could only scream Daryl’s name at the top of your lungs as your cunt fluttered violently on his cock. Your vision went out, then your hearing and then you felt Daryl’s hands in your hair once again.
He pulled you back to earth with a single pull of your hair as he fucked you through your first orgasm. He spread your cunt apart with one hand as he continued his fast pace, his hips slapping against your ass every single time. You didn’t want him to stop, not even if your sensitive clit was begging for the abuse on it to stop.
“Fuck your so tight for me bunny ain’t ya? You needed to be fucked by my cock huh?” His words cause a deep desire within you, causing a wave of wetness to pour out of you once more.
Daryl was now at an animalistic pace, his hands now bruisingly gripped onto your hips as he thrusted you back into his cock. You moaned out a few “yes”’s and “need you.”’s as a reply to him but really it was the only thing you could say right now. Your mind was too clouded with his cock to be able to think any coherent thoughts, you had quite literally became a fuck toy  for him.
His abuse on your cunt continued, feeling your cunt contract on his cock as your second orgasm within the last 5 minutes started to stir up within your stomach. It only took a few thrusts from Daryl before it came undone again, he felt your cunt spasm once again on his cock. Daryl was close, so fucking close but he needed you to cum again before he could cum deep inside you.
“Just one more time bunny… need you to cum on my cock one more time…” he groaned, not stopping his hips as you came once again on his cock.
His words made yet another knot form within your belly, not waiting for your second orgasm to stop before moving onto the next. You were legit on fire, every one of your senses tingling, your throat burned from the screams that erupted deep down inside of you, your eyes were wet with your salty tears, your skin laced with a small sheet of sweat that seemed to pour out of your. Every inch of your body screamed at you to stop but also all at the same time wanted more, mixing pleasure and pain together as you got higher and higher to your third orgasm.
Daryl grabbed onto your shoulders, lifted you up off the couch so you were unbelievably close to him. Your back was flush against his chest, he held you there, locking your hips in place as he thrusted deeper and harder into your cunt. Your body was screaming for release at this point,  wanting nothing more than to explode under the pressure but you couldn’t get the push you needed to send yourself off the edge.
“I c-can’t…. Fuck Daryl!” You whined, the knot in your stomach so unbelievably tight.
You felt you were going to explode, you shook violently in the hands of Daryl as he thrusted relentlessly into you. Daryl slid his hand down to your clit, giving you an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you let out strangled moans and probably every curse word possible in this moment.
“You can bunny… your doing so fucking good for me, just cum on my cock one more time…” he whispered in your ear, lightly biting the lobe of it.
His words were exactly what you needed, that was the push that sent you over the edge. Suddenly the knot snapped, it didn’t feel anything like it did before though. It sent intense shocks through your body, every inch of your body screaming as it did so. You let out a scream, scratching at Daryl’s arm that was still placed roughly on your hips. You threw your head back over his shoulder, feeling your cunt shoot out fluids.
“God damn… fuck y/n!” Daryl moaned, thrusting only once more before spilling himself inside you.
Daryl’s cum filled you up to the brim, shoving his cock deep inside you so it can coat every inch of your insides. You watched as Daryl came, peaking at him through half closed eyes and seeing his face once again light up with pleasure. Daryl fucked not only you but himself through your orgasms, allowing you both to come down from your highs before he slid his now soft cock out of you.
Daryl held you for a minute, allowing you to go limp in his arms. Daryl wouldn’t say he was in love with you, he didn’t quite know what that felt like but the way he grabbed onto him now, half conscious as he held you softly, he would say you meant something to him. This moment all he wanted to do was protect you, he would kill anyone or anything that even tried to harm you… that terrified him.
“Uh… I’ll go check to see if that shower still works, so you can get cleaned up.” Daryl said, delicately placing you down on the couch.
You were still out of it, you could feel the moonshine creeping back up on you as your head pounded and your stomach twisted. You were plain exhausted as you watched Daryl get up and start collecting his clothes, pulling up his underwear and pants back onto his legs.
“Wait… Daryl?” You called out to him, sitting up so you could see him clearer.
“Yeah?” He answered, not even looking at you as he collected his clothes.
The thought saddened you but the only thing you thought was about how this was a one night stand to Daryl, his efforts to leave, to make you clean up after him, to be by yourself after you gave yourself to him. Daryl didn’t mean to make you feel like that but he didn’t do feelings, so when an ounce of feeling for you creeped up on him… he freaked. He suddenly felt like the world was collapsing under him and if that’s what love felt like, he didn’t want it.
“What does this mean for us?” You asked, seeing how the question left him frozen.
“What do you mean?” He tried to play dumb so hopefully you would just drop it, he begged of you to let him fuck you and leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings.
“I mean… I told you I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t just give you my virginity just because..” you stated, eyes slightly watering as you could see yourself alone already.
Daryl didn’t mean to make you cry, he didn’t want to make you cry ever. God damn he just wanted to be alone now, he thought about you all the time, there wasn’t a single day he didn’t. He told himself that he hated you, you and your stupid optimism but it was just a way to trick himself because he knew he loved that about you. You were so happy and so hopeful, he was the complete opposite of that, and what do they say about the opposite? How do they attract each other?
“I ain’t good with labels” was all he said, not explaining what he meant by that.
It made your heart break slightly, you felt the same way about Daryl but you saw the way he pushed you away. He almost never allowed you to get close to him, ever. So you tried to push down the thoughts you had of him, even the dirty ones you would get at night. Hearing how maybe the man you had fallen in love with was willing to fuck you and than leave, it broke your heart. Daryl picked up on your change of posture, fuck he really didn’t mean it to come out like that.
“But this ain’t a one night stand if that’s what yer thinking.” He reassured me, hoping to get you to stop being so sad. “I do care about you…”
The confession made your heart flutter, you weren’t there what this meant, if this’ll be the start of something or you’ll just remain each other’s fuck buddies. What you did know was what the world meant to you, every word that left his mouth meant something to you. You knew that was his way of confessing he did have feelings for you, causing a big smile to appear on your face.
“You know what,” you started, wrapping yourself up in the sheet. “I’ll take it…”
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zegrasdrysdale · 11 months ago
Note
Hi! Could you do a Luke Hughes x reader where the reader still goes to UMich while Luke is in Jersey w/ Jack and she speculates he’s cheating on her? Angst with a happy ending, preferably? Thank you!
[ 604 miles ] l. hughes
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paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary : after seeing Luke on Jack’s private story, his girlfriend begins speculating that he’s doing more than just playing hockey
warning(s) : angst ! but w a happy ending. mentions of cheating. reader still goes to Umich
author’s note : oooh this is gonna be juicy
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She trusts Luke. She swear she does, but she can’t help but feel the little pull at her heart when she watches him in the background of Jack’s private story.
A bunch of their mutual Michigan friends started to text her while she was doing homework. Even fans on social media have been posting about it and tagging her in posts.
She was confused, then she opened Snapchat to see what they were talking about.
In one video, Jack’s drunk and dancing to some song that she doesn’t know. In the background, she sees her boyfriend sitting at a booth with some blonde at his side. He isn’t touching her, but she’s sitting too close to him.
In another video, Luke’s in the background dancing with that same girl. She notices the smile on Luke’s face when he faces the camera.
It brings tears to her eyes as she jumps to an immediate conclusion. She’s been right every time so far.
She truly thought he was different than the other hockey players she dated. They all cheated on her too, and Luke promised her over and over again that he would never do that to her.
Well, here he is. Probably cheating on her and Jack is posting it all over his private Snap story for all their mutual friends to see. It’s embarrassing for her.
It took months for Luke to break down the wall she built around her heart. They met halfway through their freshman year at Michigan. It wasn’t until the beginning of their sophomore year that they started dating.
With her sadness turning into anger and tears rolling down her hot face, she calls Luke. It keeps ringing. And ringing. So she calls one more time.
And gets his voicemail.
“Luke Warren Hughes, you have five minutes to call me back or you’re going to end up without a girlfriend,” she says into the phone. “I mean it. And you better have a damn good reason you’re dancing with some random blonde girl on Jack’s Snapchat.” Then she hits the end button and puts the phone on her desk with the screen up.
A minute passes and her phone doesn’t ring. She doesn’t get a text.
Two minutes pass and her fingers are itching to call him again. She wants to stay true to her word because if Luke has a good explanation as to why he’s with some blonde then he’ll call her back.
Four minutes pass from the call. She drafts a text to Jack that she’s going to send in a minute if her phone doesn’t ring.
‘ tell luke i’m going to send him his things that i have in my apartment and that i want mine back. i’m done. ’
After five minutes pass, she sends the text.
It’s not the first time that this has happened, and it’s the last. Not only is she done with Luke, she’s done with any hockey boys in general. Too many times has she gotten her heart broken because the relationship had to go long distance. Too many times has she had too much trust.
Two minutes after she sents Jack the text, her phone rings. Jack is calling her.
“I really don’t feel like explaining why-”
“What do you mean you’re done?” Luke interrupts before she can finish her sentence. “What did I do?”
Her jaw drops. “You can’t be serious, Luke,” she replies. “I saw you in the background of Jack’s snaps getting too comfortable with a blonde girl. Sitting with her and a smile on your face while dancing with her? You told me you wouldn’t break my heart.”
“That’s not- baby, she’s a friend,” Luke tries to defend. “Jack’s friend if I’m being honest. He was busy hanging out with Nico and Dawson so she came to sit with me. She dragged me out onto the dance floor and told me to dance. I told her I had a girlfriend and she still dragged me to the dance floor and got close to me. I didn’t try to do anything with her because I don’t want to.”
Tears sting her eyes. “I gave you a chance to explain yourself,” she tells him. “I called you twice before I texted Jack. It took me texting Jack before you called me from his phone. You told me you’d never break my heart but you did. I don’t trust you, Luke. I’ve been told that same story over and over again.”
Luke stays silent. She has to dry her own tears that have rolled down her cheeks. She has to cover her mouth so she doesn’t let out a sob that he hears.
She’s standing her ground. She’s protecting her heart. The 604 miles between them should be enough space and make it easier to move on.
“(Y/N), I would never cheat on you,” Luke tells her. She can hear the sincerity in his voice but she still doesn’t believe him.
“Luke, I can’t right now,” she softly says. She’s pretty sure he can’t even hear her because of how loud it is in the bar or wherever they are. “I’m sorry.”
Then she hangs up. She shuts her phone off and crawls into bed, completely forgetting about her homework. All she wants to do right now is wallow.
His words are just words. She knows what she saw. Right now, nothing that Luke can say to her will change her mind about being done.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
It’s nearly two in the afternoon when she hears a knock on her off-campus apartment door. She hasn’t gotten up out of bed in nearly forty-eight hours except to use the bathroom. Her phone hasn’t been turned on since her talk with Luke the other day.
Someone is probably coming to check on her since she has fallen off the face of the Earth for the moment. That is the only reason why she drags herself out of bed to go answer the door.
When she swings open the door, it’s the last person she expects to be on her doorstep. He actually supposed to be in California right now. They have a game to play in a few hours in Anaheim.
Luke holds a single rose out for her and a little basket full of snacks is in his other hand. “I was going to get a whole bouquet for you but I forgot to grab one at the store,” he tells her. “If anyone asks, I did not pull this from the bed by the front door of the building.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I wanted to talk,” he replies. “You haven’t been replying to any of my texts or answering my calls. I told Lindy that I needed a few personal days and he told me that I can come back when I’m ready to. I didn’t want you to keep thinking that I was cheating on you or hurting you. That was never my intention.”
She rolls her eyes and walks into the apartment. Luke is quick to follow her and shut the door behind her. “You can say what you have to say then you can get on a flight to Anaheim to play tonight,” she tells him as she sits on the couch in the living room.
He sets the basket of snacks on the coffee table in front of her and sets the rose next to it. Luke pulls out his phone and taps on it for a second. She’s about to say something when he shows her his screen.
It’s a picture of the blonde girl that was with Luke, but she’s all cuddled up with Jack. Jack looks happy and is looking at her like she’s the only person in the world. It was taken at the beginning of the night because she can tell that there is something behind Jack’s eyes.
“It’s Jack’s ‘friend’,” Luke assures her. “They’re together but aren’t telling people they’re together but they make it obvious that they are. The reason she was hanging out with me for a little bit was because she wanted to know how to tell Jack that she’s ready to publicly be together.”
She looks up at Luke behind the phone. “You couldn’t answer your phone and just tell me that?” she asks.
“I left it in the car,” he tells her. He taps on the screen a few more times and holds up a screenshot of his and Jack’s locations. They weren’t together, and it looks like Luke was right outside the building.
It’s all making sense to her. Her and her trust issues were wrong this time.
A pout forms on her lips at the same time tears form in her eyes. “You really weren’t lying to me,” she mumbles. Her voice is incredibly shaky.
“I told you that I would never break your heart,” Luke tells her. “Not intentionally. I definitely wouldn’t cheat on you. I know you’re past with that and no matter how upset I am with you, I wouldn’t resort to that. Unlike everyone else you’ve been with, I’m more willing to communicate. Hell, I took time away from the team to come make sure we were okay.”
One of the tears rolls down her cheeks and Luke uses the back of his pointer finger to wipe it away. She leans into his touch and looks at him. “I’m sorry, Luke,” she says. It comes out as more of a sob than actual words.
He moves closer to her and throws an arm over her shoulders. She curls up against him and Luke kisses the top of her head. “It’s okay,” he assures her. “I know how you think so I gave you a little bit then came to talk to you. Just needed you to think with your head and not your past.”
She frowns and throws her legs over his lap. Luke holds her close.
“Do you want to go to Anaheim to play?” she asks as she looks up at him. “There’s enough time for you to make it for warmups.”
Luke shakes his head. “I think I want to spend a few days with you,” he replies. “I’m pretty sure they can handle a couple of games without me. I need a handful of days off where I don’t think about hockey. I haven’t been playing the best so a break sounds nice.”
“It’s your first season,” she tells him as she runs her fingers through his curls. “There is so much pressure on you because of your last name. You’re most likely feeling it without realizing it.”
He looks at his girlfriend. “I know,” he sighs. “Just give me a few days and I’ll head back to Jersey to play when they get back from the California trip.”
She leans forward and presses a long kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” she tells him. “I think you’ll grow into your NHL skates. You’ll have an insane season next season, or even for the last 20 something games of the season.”
“I love you too,” Luke replies. “Sorry I made you think I was cheating on you.”
“Got you to come see me so I guess I forgive you,” she teases.
It’s been a few weeks since Luke came to see her. They watched the All Star game together in the apartment. That was the last time they saw each other.
Luke gets comfortable on the couch. “Can we take a nap since we’re okay?” he asks. “I’m exhausted.”
“Only if we move to the bed because you are too big to share a couch with.”
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MASTERLIST
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nicksolemnlyswears · 10 days ago
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FORGED UNDER FIRE
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blurb: when brennan sorrengail died he left more than his family and a dragon behind. he left his best friend. he left his lover. he left his unborn child.
pairing: brennan sorrengail x rider! reader
word count: 1.1k
a/n: first and foremost, this is unedited. second, i've had this in my drafts since i finished reading fourth wing in september. i kinda wanted to make it a fic but lost some steam. i don't think i'll continue this but if i do it will be shorter blurbs/moments rather than the 10k monstrosities i like to write. i figured it wouldn't do anything in my drafts so here you go!
i like the idea of brennan having someone he befriends and takes under his wing while at basgiath war college. there's so much we don't know about him and this is me filling some of the gaps with the wonderful fanfiction.
i hope you enjoy! i honestly love fourth wing so damn much and i can't wait for onyx storm. i even have tickets for rebecca yarros tour in january. so yes, read, enjoy and let me know what you think!
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The cold wind drifted around you, ruffling the grass and the branches of the dispersed trees. The sunrise was turning from a beautiful deep blue to a pale pink that bled into orange. The chill bites into your cheeks and nose, reddening them, but you welcomed it. It numbed the pain that continued to tear through your heart.
“You must stop thinking so much about him.” Your dragon Calliss shares through your link. She’s the angry voice in your head reminding you to move forward.
“I thought we agreed I could wallow in my misery this time of year.”
The day that marks his death came and went yet it left you with a whirlwind of emotions. You should’ve moved on long ago, the pain in your chest turned into a soft ache that you remember fondly as you rebuild your life without him. Still, it remains a deep gash that continues to bleed and keeps you up at night, unmoving.
“You have better things to do.” Calliss reminds you. Its inscription day and people from all over the continent will be arriving to drop off their children.
“Mhm. Yeah, sure.”
The red dagger tail huffs behind you. The air coming from her nostrils counteracting the cold breeze. She’s moody because you shut her out instead of letting her help.
The ground lightly shakes and the air stirs as another dragon lands near Calliss. General Sorrengail’s brown dragon, Aimsir. The older woman approaches you and sits down beside you on the damp grass. Despite her reputation she’s been kind to you, patient even. She’s kept you close, tucked under her wing just like he used to.
Your signet allowed Lilith to keep you closer than most. Otherwise, she’d have no choice but to leave you on your own to battle your emotional wounds.
It tends to weigh in your conscious that she only does it because you have the last piece of him. Had it not been the case, would she have cared as much?
At the same time, you’re eternally grateful. Had it not been for Lilith Sorrengail you would definitely be cold and dead. Despite all the bad days, there have been good ones woven in and you wouldn’t trade those for nothing in the world.
“Violet goes today,” Lilith says, looking at you sternly.
“You sure this is what you want to do?” You ask her, keeping your gaze on the mountain and the sunrise.
Lilith has discussed Violet's inscription with you time and time again. It's the one thing she continues to think about since the death of her husband, which is unusual. The woman is confident in her decisions, she's calculating and precise. A wonderful quality for a commander, but it falters when it comes to her children.
“Do you think she won’t be able to make it?”
You sigh and look down at the grass before your eyes shift up to look at her. “She’ll make it. She might've been raised by a scribe but she was also raised by you and Mira and Brennan which means Violet won't go down without a fight. She won’t go down easy. It is my belief dragons respect that.”
Saying his name is difficult. It's heavy on your tongue as you enunciate the syllables. So familiar yet strange at the same time.
Lilith hums in agreement, leaving a period of silence to hang in the air. She’s giving you time to talk, to bring him up. When you don’t she takes matters into her own hands.
“I can’t believe it’s been five years.”
“Only five and it feels like a century,” you scoff, pulling at the grass blades near your crossed feet. Calliss and Aimsir shuffle behind you two, making the ground tremble. It used to scare you as a cadet.
“You should get out there again, try and find something that at least resembles what you had with Brennan,” Lilith dares say.
You gasp in a sharp intake of air at the mention of his name. It’s not a surprise for Lilith to suggest such a thing. After all, it’s been five long years since Brennan left, died. But, does she not feel like she’s betraying her own son by suggesting this?
“She’s right,” Calliss voice purrs in your ear. She’s suggested it more than once, begging you to ‘release the tension you have inside.’ You've tried but the sense of betrayal that follows reopens old wounds.
“Hush, Calliss.”
Calliss growls from behind you, voicing her displeasure at you telling her to quiet. Humans do not tell dragons what to do.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able replicate what I had with Bren. It was forged at Basgiath under the threat of imminent death. I was another person there who needed help desperately and Bren was the perfect person to guide me. He was one of a kind, our circumstances were one of a kind. It might’ve been short lived but it held so much value.” You give Lilith a smile and shake your head, “I have everything I need. I’m making a name for myself, which was what I always wanted. I was married, and I have a child who I love to death.”
Lilith nods offering you one of her rare smiles. She stands, dusting off her clothes from any sticking grass. “Speaking of, we have to make our way back before he wakes and brings the house down.”
You nod and laugh, “Oh, he’s going to throw a fit when Violet goes.”
Your son and Violet are as thick as thieves. They get along well and Violet loves to spoil him. She’s never one to turn down babysitting or entertain him when you need a break. After all, he's what she has left of her brother.
“Maybe Mira will get him to calm down,” Lilith hopes, climbing up Aimsirs leg.
You have one question for Lilith. From the ground, glancing up at her you ask. “How do you do it? It’s been five years and I feel just as heart broken as I did that day.”
Brennan’s father passed away about a year ago. His heart giving out on him. All because of Brennan’s death. You mourned him too, he had always been kind to you and he loved his grandchild. It might’ve been the only reason he held on for so long.
Lilith sighs and takes a moment to form her words. “Your relationship was young and somewhat new, barely 4 years. He was the first person you trusted. You had your whole life ahead of you. My husband and I were together for nearly 30 years. We travelled all around Navarre, had three amazing children, and we watched them grow up. I wish he was here to see what will become of Violet but,” she pauses without finishing her sentence. “My point is you were full of what ifs and places to go. It’s hard to move on from that when you keep trying to make sense of it.”
“I wish I knew I was pregnant before he died so I could’ve told him. Maybe things would’ve been different,” you confess.
“Possibly. I know Brennan would’ve loved him.” With those last words General Sorrengail flies off, leaving you and Calliss alone once more.
“No more moping. We have a job to do,” she says, urging you to get on her back.
“Thank you for being patient with me,” you tell her honestly.
Calliss is opinionated but she wants what’s best for you. She continues to feel all the pain Brennan’s death caused you. All her snide remarks are only meant to encourage you to manage your pain and move forward.
“Beware. It’s running thin today.”
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thoughts?
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 16 days ago
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Heart on a Chain (Scrooge!Aemond x Reader)
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Christmas day and a recently rediscovered ring bring unpleasant and unwanted memories.
Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge-coded Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)
Warnings: Angst :(
Author's note: The guy that played young Scrooge at the Christmas Carol I went to today was hot and the way he carried himself reminded me of Aemond so... here we are. Wrote this in less than two hours lmao.
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Heart on a Chain
Christmas Day.
For the past two years, Aemond had not given more than a passing thought to the holiday. That thought being annoyance at having to pay his employees a full day’s wages for no work.
It was just another day. He woke, read the papers while he ate, then went to the office. He balanced the books, double-checked the work of his clerks, and inspected the warehouse’s stock. He sat with his business partner and discussed new prospects.
Even now, Cole was telling him about a potential new partnership he’d identified. A newly founded firm, desperate for reputable clients, would be almost too easy to maneuver into a contract that would heavily favor Targaryen & Cole. Ordinarily, Aemond would be eager to sink his teeth into the prospect, but now…
Now, he could not focus on Cole’s words. He could not bear to look at the pages of figures strewn on the table before them. He couldn’t even remember the name of the new firm, or what it was they did.
His entire world had faded to the ring that sat in his pocket.
Dull, cheap gold set with a pathetically small cabochon – he didn’t remember what the stone was, just that it was vaguely red. It looked ridiculous against the fine gold chain he’d purchased. That was the reason it remained in his pocket, rather than around his neck, he told himself.
It certainly wasn’t because he was afraid to see it out in the open, to be reminded of the slender hand it had once graced and the woman it had belonged to.
He hadn’t thought of her in years. Had not let himself, from the moment the door closed behind her. The same door that now loomed behind Cole, where the dented brass bell swayed slightly from the draft, just as it had three Christmases past…
“Aemond?”
He held back a sigh. Why did she have to come now? He was busy, as he told her he would be. He did not want to be disturbed, as he also told her. He had even agreed to go to Christmas dinner at her parent’s house that evening to ensure she would not bother him during the day.
Yet, here she was.
“Yes, dearest?” he called as he climbed off the ladder. Best to be sweet now, to soothe whatever mood had taken her this time. If she came all the way down to Cornhill and made it past Cole in the office, she must be in quite the state.
Indeed, as she found him amongst the massive rows of shelves, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with tears that sparkled with the reflection of his lamp. Still, she was beautiful. If only she would content herself with what he had to do to ensure the security of their life together.
She stopped, straightening her shoulders. Her furious blinking betrayed the fact that she was battling her tears to keep them from falling. “Aemond, we need to speak.”
“I assume there is something particular you wish to speak about?” He was distracted as he walked toward her, the label on one of the crates he passed catching his eye.
That order was supposed to be shipped out days ago. He’d dock Cargyll’s wages by half this week for allowing such a major error. The recipient of this shipment was very particular and would undoubtedly complain that his goods were late.
“We must discuss our agreement,” her voice, now bordering on shrill, reclaimed his attention.
What was there to discuss? He’d agreed to go to her house after he finished work at six, and… damn. When he pulled his watch from his waistcoat, he found it was already half-past seven. Still, dinner wouldn’t be served until eight. He had time. “I admit I’m running late, but with all the workers out for the holiday – ”
“Not about that agreement, Aemond. About our engagement.” A heavy stone settled in Aemond’s stomach, chill as ice. She continued, “I cannot help but feel that an idol has displaced me in your affections.”
The stone turned hot and rancid with anger. “And what is this idol, may I ask?”
“A golden one.” Her tears vanished, replaced with cold righteousness. “Wealth and power, and everything else your father denied you.”
“Is it a sin to seek security? To endeavor to escape the cruel grasp of poverty and helplessness?”
She came closer to him, setting a gloved hand on his arm. He had to resist the urge to pull away. “Your fear and resentment have overpowered your nobler aspirations,” she said softly. “Now, your only passion is gaining more and more, beyond what is necessary.”
Aemond took her hand, suppressing the urge to seize her shoulders and shake sense back into her. “Even if that were true, I am not changed toward you.”
To his horror, she pulled away, shaking her head.
“Dearest?”
She flinched as if the word struck her. “Our agreement was made long ago. When we were poor and in love and content to remain so.”
“I was a boy, then,” he scoffed.
“And I loved that boy!” She fell quiet for a moment, turning away from him when he reached for her. “But that boy is gone, and my heart aches for him. It is in his memory that I release you from our agreement.”
Until that moment, Aemond had nearly forgotten he had a heart. But her words shattered it, and pain wracked through his chest. Juvenile fear and distress took hold of him. He approached her, oblivious to her feeble attempts to move away, and took her in his arms. “Dearest, I do not understand. Have I ever sought release?”
“Not with words.”
“In what, then?”                     
She finally faced him again, and he knew he would never forget the horrible sight of her heartbreak and disdain – disdain for him. “In a changed nature and spirit. You do not look at me as you used to, Aemond. I used to feel beautiful when you looked at me, but now, I feel like a burden saddled upon you.”
“That is not true,” he begged.
“Tell me, honestly,” her gaze and voice steadied, even as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “If you were to make the choice today, would you choose a dowerless girl?”
Aemond wanted to say no. But the world would not form. All he could say was, “You think not.”
The tension in her body vanished, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping. She looked up at him with despairing conviction. “With a full heart, for the love of who you once were, I release you.” She backed away from him, and his heart went with her. “May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”
She had only taken three steps away when he called her name, extending a hand to her.
But when she set her hand in his, he harshly pulled away.
He extended his hand once more. “My ring.”
It was her ring, he knew. It always was and always had been, even when he had forgotten about it. It was likely why, that night, he had thrown it carelessly into a dresser drawer to get it out of his sight. To forget the pain that had been contained within that strange, reddish stone.
But his maid had found it three days prior and given it to him, unleashing all that pain back into the heart-shaped hole in his chest. It was ruining him, that pain, clouding his mind and stealing away his better judgment.
“Aemond?” Cole’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Have your senses fled with the workers? What is wrong with you?”
Wrong? Nothing was wrong with him. Something was missing. She was missing. “Forgive me, Cole,” he said. “I must have eaten something odd. I’m afraid I am out of sorts.”
“Well, you’re no use like this. Go home. Come back all the earlier tomorrow, though!”
Aemond was already out the door, his coat only half-buttoned.
Home. He needed to go home, eat a hot meal, and go to bed early. Yes, a good rest would fix whatever had gone wrong inside him. He just needed to get home.
His feet didn’t take him home. They carried him to a place that he may once have called home but no longer. Equally traitorous, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door he once would have entered without a second thought.
A cheering from beyond the door halted his movements, and Aemond moved to glance through the nearest window.
There she was. Just as radiant as he remembered. Even more so, for she smiled.
She smiled at the babe she held in her arms.
A babe who bore the same smile as its mother. But its eyes and hair were different. Those had been inherited not from its mother but from the father who stood behind the child and mother, looking on them both with unabashed adoration and pride.
Aemond had looked at her in much the same way, when he had been capable of feeling such things.
All the air left his chest. Had he ever been able to breathe? Perhaps he would die before he remembered how to. Part of him wanted to.
But somehow, he pulled enough air into his lungs to fuel his body as he walked across town to his own home. He ate his dinner, read the evening papers, and retreated to his bedroom. There, he readied himself for bed. Yes, a good night’s rest would cure him of this ailment.
He did not realize until he laid upon his bed that the cool metal of a chain rested against his skin.
If he could not bear his heart in his chest, he would wear it around his neck.
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strlvvr · 7 months ago
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my best friends brother (is the one for me) - part four
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ahhh finally i finished part four. this was so hard for no reason
read part three here!
word count: 1014 words
warnings: slight angst?
⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ୭ৎ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚
i looked up from my phone when i heard knocking on my front door. i paused my movie and got up, knowing exactly who was at the door. i walked down my stairs and opened the door, seeing matt already biting his nails.
“why weren’t you answering your phone?” he said, relieved to see me in one piece.
“i didn’t feel like it.” i said, turning around and walking back into my house, knowing he was going to invite himself in no matter what.
“y/n please. what is going on? you’ve been off all day.” he pleaded with me, following me into my kitchen.
“i’ve been off? what about you and how you’ve been acting since nick walked into your room this morning?” i retort, starting to get angry with him. he’s done nothing but ignore me all day, only taking time to say something to me when it’s convenient for him. on his terms. 
“y/n..” matt pleaded.
“no i don’t wanna hear it,” i snapped, “you do this every time something between us ever happens and i’m sick of it.”
“i’m sorry, okay?” he yelled, throwing his hands up and into his hair. 
“for what? for ignoring me all day or acting like you like me?” i yelled back, immediately turning around so he couldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes. 
he stayed quiet, and when i turned to look at him, he was on his way out the door. 
once the door closed behind him, i sighed, unable to stop the tears falling. i shouldn’t have let myself believe that he could ever want me. 
i collected myself and went back to my room, hoping that watching my movie would take my mind off what had just happened. i grabbed my phone, going into matt’s contact. i stared at it, debating on texting or calling him. after a while, i threw my phone across my bed, paying attention to the movie playing. i ended up falling asleep half way through it.
i woke up to my phone ringing. i ignored it, thinking it was matt calling me. it rang again and i picked it up, seeing it was nick calling me. 
“hello?” i answered, still half asleep.
“do you have any idea why matt is all pissy?” nick asked immediately.
“i don’t know, he came over ‘cause i wasn’t getting his calls since my phone died on my way home,” i lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through it, “he seemed pissy when he got here though.”
nick groaned before replying, “we were supposed to film a wednesday video but he hasn’t come out of his room and is ignoring me and chris.”
i felt bad, knowing this was partially my fault. “i don’t know, i’m sorry.” i said, grabbing my remote and turning off my tv.
“no it’s fine, i was just wondering if you knew anything.” nick said before saying goodbye and hanging up.
i stared at my ceiling, wondering what was wrong with him. i couldn’t stop my mind from telling me that maybe he does have some sort of feelings for me. 
i grabbed my phone and started drafting a text to matt.
‘can we talk? i’m sorry’ i stared at the text, debating on sending it or not. my thumb hovered over send before deleting the message. i threw my phone down and decided to go grab some food. 
i open my fridge, finding some grapes i had just bought and put some in a bowl. i walked over to the couch and sat down, thinking about the conversation between me and matt. i regretted what i said, overthinking it way too much. 
what if what i said made him think i had feelings for him? i thought about what nick said about matt. what if he felt the same? 
i saw a car, similar to matt’s, outside my house. it couldn’t be his, especially not with the way we left things. 
i heard a knock on my door. i got up, my heart racing as i go answer the door.
“look i don’t want to leave things how we did, and again you aren’t answering you’re phone. god why can’t you just answer your damn phone,” matt pushes through me, clearly out of breath.
“my phone is in my room..” i trailed off, letting him continue his rant. i followed him into my room, he grabbed my phone and handed it to me.
“i’ve texted you about fifteen times, called you three times. you worry me,” he looked at me softly, “please. just keep your phone with you.”
“i’m sorry.” i mumbled, grabbing my phone and looking down at all the notifications from matt. i couldn’t understand why he seemed to care so much, considering just that morning he was ignoring me.
“it’s okay, just- i don’t know” he shook his head, turning to leave.
“wait, why don’t you stay?” i asked him, wanting to hang out with him.
“yeah?” he chuckled, clearly seeing how much i wanted to be in his company.
i walked to my kitchen, grabbing drinks for us out of the fridge. i heard him behind me and before he could get too close, i turned around reaching one of the waters i grabbed towards him. as much as i wanted a repeat of last night, i couldn’t let it happen. if it was going to end even slightly close to that, i’d rather walk into oncoming traffic. 
we made our way to my living room, getting comfy on my couch. i felt matt try to get closer, i inched away slightly, not wanting to let myself get close to him again. he moved back to his original seat, not wanting to push anything.
“are we gonna watch anything?” matt asked, looking over at me.
“i mean what else do we ever do,” i grabbed the remote, turning the tv in and going into netflix.
i put on some comedy show, one of matt’s favorites. i grabbed my phone and text nick, letting him know matt was at my house.
tag list
@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0 @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @h3arts4harry @matthewscherrypie @satvisfavetoodles @secret-sturniolo @mattsturniololoverr @blablablabla2525 @melanch0lybby @always-reading @bbernard-03 @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @sleepysturnss @edgemaster696 @strnilolo @engene28 @mattspolitank @ribread03 @veysxrge @bernardsgf @syn-wr1tes @realuvrrr @sturniolo0ntop @chrisstopherfilmed2 @sturniol0s @pinklittleflower @sturniluvr
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chemococktailonthehouse · 7 months ago
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Nightly Ritual (Lucifer x F!Reader)
Description: Lucifer tended to stay up far later than he should, and he certainly wasn't easy to convince to come to bed. You, however, had a few tricks up your sleeve.
Warnings: Fluff (that's it. that's the whole post), sleepy sleepy reader, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men
Author's Note: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute now. I've got another one I'm working on and may not finish that has similar vibes with a touch of angst (what can I say, I know what I like). I'm not sure how much Hazbin I'll write for, as I'm not super involved with the fandom at this point. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Word Count: 897
This has been cross-posted on my AO3 account which you can find here.
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Lucifer spent many a night in his workshop working and you spent many a night trying to pull him away from said work and into bed. Besides, what was the point of a king-sized bed if there wasn’t a king to share it with? At some point you realized that if you could get him to enter the bedroom the battle was practically won. But how could you consistently make that happen? The answer fell into your lap one night when you dozed off watching him work. He gazed at you fondly for a moment before finally scooping you up and carrying you off to bed. As soon as he deposited you beneath the sheets you pulled him along with you as he let out a surprised umph. And so this dance of yours began. You would fall asleep in his office and he would carry you to bed. It didn’t take him long for him to catch on to your little game, but he couldn’t help but play along.
Most nights you’d pull up a chair to his desk, your head moving from resting in your palm to laying across your arm as you began to drift off. Other time’s you’d sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he tinkered away. Once or twice you even sat in his lap with your head buried in the crook of his neck as he hummed softly in your ear. Tonight though, you unintentionally mixed things up.
Luci heard the door creak open not too long after supper as you padded into the room. He was a bit surprised. Usually you wouldn’t start this song and dance until much later in the evening. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder as you peered at his current project. Maybe you were just here to watch tonight.
“Whatcha working on?” Though, to be honest, you already knew the answer.
“Oh, just the usual.”
You fell into a comfortable silence. Every now and again you’d ask a question about what he was doing or what tool he was using, to which he would happily answer. After one particularly in depth question he turned to you, “so, you trying to pick up the tools of the trade?”
“How do you know I’m not already an expert?”
“Oh ho ho, I think we both remember what happened last time.”
You swatted at his shoulder playfully, “oh hush you.”
“I’m not the one who almost set the office ablaze,” he raised his eyebrows as he challenged you to retort.
”Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You should be thankful I took such a tremendous responsibility off your hands.”
“Mhmm,” you could feel his quiet laughter reverberate in his chest. He continued working, humming contently whenever you’d pepper kisses on his cheek. Eventually the frequency of your musings began to slow as he noted your breathing deepening, “you sure you don’t want to come sit in my lap?” While he didn’t want you toppling over, he was reveling in the close contact and would be damned if it ended any time soon.
“Can see what you’re doing better from up here,” the way you mumbled made it evident that sleep was soon to follow.
“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep back there?”
“Mhmm. ‘m not even that tired.”
He turned and placed a kiss on your cheek, “whatever you say, dear.”
You did, in fact, fall asleep back there. Just as the first soft snore left your lips he felt you begin to slide to the side. He unfurled his wings, keeping you upright until he could turn around and lift you into his arms, “alright missy, let’s get you to bed.” You stirred slightly, lazily reaching an arm over his shoulder to stroke the feathers at the base of his wings as he carried you down the hall. The only clue that he had finally made it to the room was the soft click of the door before he laid you down on the bed. Before you had the chance to pull him down with you he had stepped out of your grasp. You turned to face him, worried that your plan had been unsuccessful this evening, “stay, please.”
“I’ll be right there, just need to slip into something more comfortable.” A few minutes later he climbed under the covers and pulled you to him, the warmth of bare chest pulling you in like a duckling to its mother.
You looped an arm around him once more, tracing your fingers across his back in search of those oh-so-soft wings. You huffed, disappointed to find he had tucked them away, “Luci?”
“Yes dear?”
You rubbed small circles until he finally got the hint. “Ohhh, someone sure is needy tonight, hmm?” His tone was playful, though it could be argued that he found much more satisfaction from wrapping you up in his wings than you did. And you loved when he wrapped you up. You began combing your fingers through his feathers again as he practically purred, “you know if you keep that up I may just have to start coming to bed earlier.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” there was that mumbling again as you began to drift off.
He chuckled, a soft, deep tone, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
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In Love and War (6)
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Author's Note: This came out angstyyyyyyyyyy, I'm sorry idk what happened. It's gotta get worse before it gets better, I guess.
Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Azriel using Truth-Teller, Mentions of Abuse/Death
Chapter 5/ Masterlist
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I can’t breathe. The walls of the tent close in, the dark leather pressing in closer and closer. If the ground were to open up and swallow me right now, I wouldn’t even have the presence of mind to scream. The fall would be a welcome reprieve from the roaring of my heart in my own ears.
What does he mean our fathers killed each other?  
It’s wrong. He’s wrong! He’s lying. He has to be lying!
I roll over so I can face him, so close on this small mat that our noses brush. His violet eyes glow in the darkness of the tent. “What do you mean?” The panic that edges my voice makes me sound shrill, even in my own ears.
I don’t want him to answer, but I desperately need him to tell me everything all at once. The wine threatens to come back up in a rush as his hand skims up my side to cup my cheek, “Tamlin didn’t tell you?”
How dare him touch me while we have this conversation; what is so broken and wrong inside of me that I let him? I know that I am shaking in his grip and when he starts rubbing calming circles into my cheek with his thumb I lean into that touch like it might give me one last life line to cling to.
“He said you killed my father.”
He stills, wings fluttering; I feel it pass through him like its own little draft, skittering across his wings. A dark mist follows, seeping from his skin. 
I know we’re not supposed to be talking about this, but the words are already out, whether from the wine or by the sheer desperation I feel crawling beneath my skin. I need to know! I need to know that everything I had believed was true. That all that I was doing this for was not based on a lie. 
He brushes his nose over mine, lips ghosting over my forehead. “When I see what they have done to you, I wish I had killed them both.”
My stomach twists. No. No. This can’t be happening!
“But no, it was my father, in retribution for what they had done.”
But I saw him holding the sword! I saw him leave the tent! I never saw his father’s body and Tamlin had always said he arrived too late to save any of them, that all he could do was fend Rhys off to keep him from slaughtering what was left of us. 
The confusion must be evident on my face, because he asks, “You really don’t know, do you?”
It’s more than a little patronizing but I don’t even have the energy to be angry about it, because my whole life is a lie! I’ve spent decades hating him. I just offered up my body and possibly my future to destroy him for nothing? For something his father, who’s long dead, did?
“Maybe we should talk about this in the morning,” he suggests and it’s definitely because I’m crying now and not because he’s trying to avoid it. 
My throat feels like it;s closing. “No!” And it’s then that I feel the faintest prick of fangs growing behind my lips. “Please just tell me.”
His thumb soothes over my cheek again, like he can feel the sudden shift in my being. I don’t know where that rush of power comes from. Maybe it is some sort of effect of being so close to him while he repairs the wards. 
“Rhys!” It’s always Azriel that interrupts us somehow, the shadowy male hurtling into the tent with that wicked looking dagger in hand. “We’ve got movement in the hills.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Now? Of all the Cauldron damned times for Amarantha to show herself, it has to be right now?!
Rhysand is on his feet in an instant, reaching for my discarded chest piece and ushering me into it, our conversation forgotten. “How many?”
I wish I could say I possess his ability to compartmentalize tasks, but despite the worst possible danger knocking on our unguarded and unwarded doors, all I can think about is how desperately we need to finish this conversation. 
“Five, a scout and four chargers. I’ve got Nox and Avos on their trail, but I don’t see any marks yet.” Azriel continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
Rhysand slings my quiver and bow over my shoulders again, checking all the straps to ensure they’re in place. He’d never taken his own armor off, only the belt for his sword, he uses a tendril of shadowy darkness to strap it into place while he finishes with me. “Stay with her.”
Azriel eyes me like I’m a pile of shit he accidentally stepped in, but I’m too busy trying to wipe my eyes on my sleeves to care. “You might need me out there,” he protests.
“Might,” Rhysand counters, stalking out of the tent in search of his horse. “But I definitely need you here more.” He grabs the reins on his horse, the mount still saddled, just in case we’d needed to leave in a hurry. Dinner threatens to come back up as I watch him slide into his cloak. I’ve spent my life hating that triple star pattern that will sit over his eyes, cursing his existence, wishing him every pain and misery imaginable for ruining my life and it wasn’t even his fault?
The ground is unsteady beneath my feet, I feel myself stumble and sway and I can’t tell if it’s the wine or the reality of the situation that makes my legs feel like jelly. 
I want to go home! I want this to be a bad dream. 
For a moment, I think he might simply toss the cowl over his head and mount up, leaving me to sit here in the misery of our half finished conversation, but he comes back a moment later, hand sliding into my hair as he tilts my head back and kisses me swiftly.
He should taste as bitter as the wine we’d shared. I should feel nothing but misery when he slips his tongue behind my teeth, but when he has me like this, nothing else matters. There doesn’t have to be anything between us. I do not feel like some broken, wretched thing.
“Don’t leave Azriel’s side,” he says as he pulls away. “We’ll finish our conversation when I return, I promise.” Then he mounts up, calling for half of the men as he goes. The thundering sound of the horses hooves as they race down into the grassy hills beneath us makes it feel like we’re standing in the center of an earthquake.
There’s enough moonlight to watch them go, their mounts and flowing capes in the wind making them appear like wraiths racing towards the enemy. 
With half of the men gone, and two scouting, that leaves Azriel and four other men to guard camp. None of them look too happy about it, least of all Azriel, who keeps watching me out of the corner of his eye like he thinks I might disappear at a moment’s notice. I remain next to him, anxiously shifting my weight from foot to foot, hoping the chill on the wind might wake my dull senses up.
Shadows drift off Azriel’s shoulders, but unlike Rhysand’s that always stay curled around his body, Azriel’s drift off like inky tendrils, testing the wind around him. Some slither along the ground like snakes, searching through patches of grass for an unwanted scent, others drift away, testing the wind for him. One remains perched over his ear, and I hear the faint sound of whispering like the shadows are reporting what they find. 
We can no longer see the others, and I spin slowly around in a circle, taking stock of my surroundings. We’re a little higher than the base of the mountain, perched on a cleft in the rock for a better vantage point. The ward remains behind us, I think, without the trail of Rhysand’s magic, I still can’t see or feel this one. To the left and right, the rocky base of the mountain is dotted with ancient trees, some thicker than a house, but the coming winter has stolen their leaves, no vantage point for archers to be had there without being sitting ducks. Beneath us, the rolling hills of grass stretch far out of sight. If Amarantha brought an army behind those first five riders, she’s hidden it well. Still, the thought makes a chill run up my spine and I keep a hand around the hilt of my dagger, just in case.
Azriel does nothing to quell my nerves, just stands there, still as a statue, listening to his shadows, eyes glued to the horizon. I can’t help but wonder if his shadows show him things as much as they tell him. Can he see Rhysand right now?
My stomach twists at the thought. I can’t see him. I can’t hear if he’s ok. There’s nothing in my arsenal to tell me that he’s coming back. And Cauldron boil me, I want him to come back. If he dies without finishing our conversation, I might never learn what happened. Whether it’s the truth or not is yet to be seen, but Tamlin’s account and his account are different, and I will be damned if I don’t get some answers from someone. 
The hand not holding my dagger reaches up to rub at the scar above my ear, hidden under my hair. Tam and I had been fighting that day, he’d been on edge about something and when I’d pushed too hard he’d shoved me right into the corner of a table. I’d been in the healer’s tent getting stitches; all these years I’d thought it was the Mother looking out for me, that little accident might have just saved my life. But looking at it now, I can’t help but wonder if it kept me from seeing the truth. 
I shift my weight again and Azriel’s gaze flicks back to me once more, irritated, like I’m somehow distracting him. 
“Sorry,” I mutter, locking my knees.
I can stand still, it’s fine. I force myself to focus on my breathing, but in the silence there’s one nagging thought that eats at me: Do I really believe Rhysand is telling the truth? I take him to bed one time, accept a couple gifts from him, and what? Believe everything he says as truth? Are claims of a mating bond really enough to make me believe he’d be open and honest with me? A mating bond certainly hadn’t saved my mother.
I close my eyes at the thought of her, chest aching. Did I believe Rhysand was right about that too? That my father had used her powers to try and breed powerful sons, not because he’d loved her? I’d certainly never seen my parents be affectionate towards each other, not even in the way Rhysand was with me. They’d never held hands, never ridden out together. He’d kept her clothed and fed, sure, and entertained her obsession with fairytales when it suited him. My mother told me, on one of her days of clarity, that he’d carved her rocking chair for her when he’d found out she was pregnant with Tam. But I never saw him be warm with her. I’m not even sure I ever saw them kiss, even on the cheek. But a lack of affection in public didn’t mean he cared so little about her he let her, supposed, powers drive her insane, did it?
“A scout’s coming back,” Azriel says, breaking me out of my thoughts. 
My eyes snap open as the rider crests the hillside and comes into view. Illyrian mounts really are beautiful, all sleek muscle and rippling midnight black manes. Together they make a lot of noise, but alone, they’re pretty damn quiet until their hooves hit rock.
Azriel motions me to follow him as he goes to the edge of the cleft in the rocks and waits as the scout approaches. “Well?”
“Not Amarantha,” the scout says and I let out a breath of relief. 
“Who the fuck would come out here then?” Someone behind me challenges. 
“Spring,” the scout says and all the blood drains from my face.
Azriel glances at me, but there’s pity in his hazel gaze this time. 
I swallow the lump in my throat. Not now, I’m not ready to see them yet! 
“What do they want?” I’m having a hard time processing that Tam would waste resources looking for me, especially when we’ve barely had horses to spare to move camp, let alone ride all the way out here.
“Proof you’re alive,” the scout says, holding out his hand.
It’s Azriel that smacks his hand away. “She only rides with me or Rhys.”
The mount shifts beneath the scout, his hood falling even lower down his face. Something feels off about it and I glance at Azriel for confirmation I’m not alone. He nods at me as he steps closer, hand on the small of my back as he leads me to where his own mount chews on a dying patch of grass. 
“Be ready,” he says in my ear.
The scout fidgets in his seat like he’s not used to riding in one and it’s that more than anything that has Azriel’s shadows flying off his shoulders to grab the rider by the wrist and yank him out of the saddle. He slams into the ground with a scream, the sound of bones crunching against rock so loud I wince as Azriel hoists me up into his saddle. 
I grab the reins to keep the horse steady, trying desperately to remember where Rhysand had held his hands when I rode with him. 
Azriel stalks over to the male, wings flaring as he knocks the back of the hood back with the tip of his dagger. Even in the moonlight, I know what swatch of dark hair and golden eyes. One of Tamlin’s Wolves, Andras. Of course he wouldn’t know how to ride, we’d survived a lot of skirmishes over the years because Tam had used his shapeshifting powers to change the men into beasts to fight. 
Azriel crouches in front of him as Andras grips his clearly broken shoulder. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”
Andras’ gaze flicks to me first. Thankfully, Azriel’s horse is a lot more patient than the others and my own nervous energy hasn’t caused it to run off. If anything, I think the animal cares less about my presence than its usual rider, because it goes back to eating.
“Your whore of a warlord-” that’s as far as Andras gets before Azriel slams the hilt of his dagger into the other male’s throat.
“Start like that again and I’ll make sure you never use that shoulder,” Azriel threatens with so much venom, I shiver. 
Andras coughs, good hand reaching for his throat and Azriel slams the blade clean through his forearm, pinning him in place.
I look away as Andras screams. He is not my friend, I can do nothing. I have always done nothing. The males have their fights and their quarrels and I have always stood on the sidelines waiting for the violence to pass like a good girl. 
“Ok! Ok!” Andras rasps. “I had orders to get into the camp and get Y/N, that’s it!”
But wasn’t being tired of standing on the sidelines that prompted me to stay here in the first place? Wasn’t I trying to make things better for my people? How was sitting here helping them?
“What about the others?” Azriel questions. 
“I don’t know! Lucien was supposed to handle that.” Andras replies through gritted teeth.
Do I even want to help them? If Rhysand was telling the truth, whose side am I even on? My head hurts from the questions, my stomach still churning end over end. I don’t know what to do.
“Where’s Tamlin?” Azriel asks as he rips the dagger out. 
Andras screams, the sound echoing off the rocks. “There’s only five of us! Tamlin never left camp.”
Of course he would send Lucien and not risk coming out here himself. That would put him face to face with Rhysand and he’d lose. And looking at it now, I realize that he knows it. He’s always known it. I rub a hand over the scar on my hand. Did he know about the bond too? Had that been why he was always so sure that I knew Rhysand was the enemy?
Azriel raises the dagger to make another cut and Andras screams, “I swear I’m telling the truth!”
“Azriel,” my voice is steadier than I feel and all eyes suddenly turn to me. I need to get answers. I need to do something. “Take me out there please.” 
“No.”
I tighten my grip on the reins. I’ll go out there myself if I have to. “If it’s Lucien, then it’s not a fight they’re having. Let me diffuse this.” I’m not sure I mean those words; I’m not sure I have the power to do anything but watch horror after horror unfold around me, but I know that I have to try. I have to attempt to put my life back together. I have to find some bit of order or I’ll go insane. Besides, this is Lucien we’re talking about! Surely he could see reason, right?
Andras is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. 
“Tie him up,” Azriel says to one of the others as he stands and wipes his blade on a cloth that hangs from his belt. “I’m not done with him.”
“But I don’t know anything!” Andras protests as two men haul him to his feet, wrenching his broken shoulder in the process. Blood drips from his forearm, down his fingers. Regardless of the confusion I feel swirling around inside me, he’s still a part of my people. Lucien is still family. If I can keep any more bloodshed from happening between our two people I will. 
“I can work this out. Not everything has to be a bloodbath.”
Azriel swings himself into the saddle behind me and steals the reins. “If I so much as hear an arrow being fired, we’re turning back around.” He snarls.
“Fine,” I concede, because at least it meant I tried. 
“Rhys is gonna kill me for this.”
----
I’m not convinced Azriel’s horse isn’t a wraith. It’s almost completely silent, save for the softest hint of breathing imaginable. When it breathes, little wisps of shadows escape out its nose. I wish I had time to ask him about it, but there’s none, not as we race over the hills, fast as the wind. 
No arrows rise up to meet us, so at least I’ve been, so far, correct about Lucien not leading an ambush. Their scout must have taken down one of Rhysand’s and stolen his mount and cloak to look presentable. At least, I tell myself it was just that and not that Lucien ordered a man killed to try and get to me. Lucien, who would sneak me snacks and who secretly taught me how to fish; Lucien who used to braid my hair for me while we sat on the creek bed, making jokes. Lucien who had always been a spot of sunlight in my world, who looked after me like a brother, and promised to scare away any suitors who made me uncomfortable. Lucien was a good male; the best of us, even, the thought that he might be capable of such violence makes me nauseous. I have had too many life changing questions hurled my way tonight, I cannot bear another one, especially not about him.
We crest a particularly large hill and finally get a glimpse of the Illyrian riders. They’re not fighting. In fact, they’re just standing there, in formation behind Rhysand’s horse. The warlord himself stands in front of it, shrouded in that heavy cloak, facing off against Lucien and his three dismounted riders. They’re all armed, but no one is actively fighting each other, I take that as a good sign.
Though Lucien doesn’t look particularly pleased to see me riding with Azriel, nothing but unbridled horror crossing his scarred face as we approach. 
When we get to the bottom of the hill, I jump off the horse, much to Azriel’s dismay. 
Lucien takes a step towards me, but growling, Rhysand steps in front of him. “Touch her and you’re dead, Vanserra.”
The men move to let me pass through and I focus all my energy on breathing evenly as I walk towards them. Does Lucien know? Did he hide this from me too? Or was he just as blind as I was?
“Y/N, are you all right?” Lucien asks, his metal eye whirring as he looks me over. 
My chest feels like it’s gonna rip right down the middle and spill my heart right out onto the floor. I don’t know who to believe. I don’t know who I want to believe. This is Lucien we’re talking about, he would never willingly hurt me. He comforted me when my entire world fell apart, he helped Tam and I bury them. I want so desperately for all these onlookers to leave, so it’s just the three of us and the truth, but the way they all stand there, armed and ready tells me that’s not happening. There hasn’t already been bloodshed here, because Lucien was waiting for Andras to give him some sort of signal that it wasn’t necessary. Because he was expecting to be able to just kidnap me.
Why do all these males constantly treat me like I’m just an object to be snatched up on their whims?
Rhysand’s hooded head is angled in my direction, watching my approach through the stars in his cowl. I don’t like that I can’t see his eyes. He doesn’t look like the Rhysand who’d just been holding me. He looks like the male I remember from my nightmares.
And Lucien looks like someone I don’t recognize at all.
How am I supposed to make sense out of any of this? Seeing them doesn’t make it easier. 
The Illyrians shift behind me, horses snuffing in agitation, kicking up loose strands of grass. I feel their unease as easily as I can see it in the males behind Lucien. Maybe this isn’t the time for answers, maybe all I can do right now is keep them from killing each other. Regardless of who’s right here, I don’t want to see either males hurt.
“I’m fine,” I lie as I come to a stop at Rhysand’s side. His gloved fingers brush mine like he might take my hand, but he doesn’t. 
Lucien stares back and forth between us. “I wouldn’t call being kidnapped fine.”
Rhys growls again, the sound skittering over my spine, “But you’d call letting her starve to death on a solo hunt fine?”
Lucien’s mouth pulls back in a grimace. “Tam made a mistake, he admits it-”
“He admits it?” His wings shake behind him, darkness drifting in waves from beneath them until it shrouds him more than the cloak. There’s so much of it Lucien retreats a step. “How brave of him to admit he fucked up and yet he still let it go on this long before someone came looking.”
Lucien keeps his gaze on me. “It won’t happen again. We’ve talked about it. Trust me, next time-”
“There is no next time,” Rhysand snarls. “She’s not going back with you!”
Lucien’s hand falls to his sword hilt, but his gaze remains on me. “Let her come home. Let this be settled and done. Tamlin sent money-”
A whip made of starlight appears in Rhysand’s hand, knocking the bag of coins Lucien pulls off his belt from his hand and scattering it across the grass. All of the men with Lucien draw their swords, even as the redhead tightly grips his own. Rhysand can easily kill him here and he will if Lucien keeps talking. I need to diffuse this, I need them all to leave each other alone. I’m not done here, and even if Lucien won’t understand it, I can’t bear to see him get hurt.
“He’s my mate,” I say and the words taste like a betrayal.
Lucien’s face twists in a mixture of horror and disgust.
“No one is keeping me here against my will.” Well, mostly. It’s not like I’ve put that to the test, but he doesn’t need to know that. 
“That can’t be true,” it comes out like a whisper, as if he doesn’t want to believe it. I suppose, if our places were switched, I wouldn’t want to either. “You did something to her.”
Rhysand huffs, “I didn’t and I wouldn’t.”
“Like you didn’t slaughter thousands for Amarantha?” Lucien snarls.
Rhysand freezes, still as death beside me.
Azriel, silent in the grass, has come up behind me, his presence a steadying energy amidst the chaos I feel swirling around us. What does he mean he killed for Amarantha? Isn’t he trying to kill her?
“That’s enough,” Azriel hisses. “The lady told you she doesn’t want to go back with you. Respect that and go.”
Lucien doesn’t move. “He didn’t tell you that, did he, Y/N?”
“Leave!” Azriel snarls.
“I’m sure he didn’t tell you how he whored himself out to her either. Why do you think the Illyrians have so much land?”
Azriel steps around me, shadows swirling, dagger in hand, but it’s Rhysand, who’s now almost wholly surrounded by a dark mist, that puts out a hand to stop him. “Everything I did, I did for my people,” he says in a voice that’s so low I almost can’t hear it over the wind. “Everything Tamlin is doing now is for himself.”
“How noble,” Lucien snarls. “If your intentions are so pure, let her go.”
Rhysand turns to look at me, pushing the cowl off his head so I can see his face. The moonlight doesn’t hide the shadows under his eyes, or the weight I see crushing down on his shoulders. It’s impossible to miss the way his wings droop behind him. My chest aches at the sight of him, something clawing in desperation beneath my skin begging me to find a way to take that burden from him. 
“Do you want to go back with him?” He asks.
I don’t know if what he’s said tonight is true or a lie, but I know here and now that if I said yes he’d let me walk away. No strings attached, if I took Lucien’s hand and got on that horse, he wouldn’t fight me.
I don’t know what I want any more. I don’t know who I am anymore. Everything I have built my life on feels like it's crumbling beneath my feet. And everyone is just standing there watching it happen. 
No one has ever offered me a choice like this before. My whole life I have been told where to go and who to be and given one taste of freedom I had still followed exactly what was expected of me, hoping that it would finally make me feel at peace. But I haven’t felt a moment of peace in all of it, except when I was in Rhysand’s arms. It’s impossible that he of all people could make me feel like that. It shouldn’t be this way. 
And Lucien, who I always considered another brother, who shared food at my table and always made me feel like I wasn’t a waste of space, was now someone I didn’t recognize. There is no sign of Rhysand’s missing rider among them. I don’t know if he’s dead or not, probably, judging by the way Lucien keeps looking at Rhys like he’s an animal. 
It’s a startling sight, not because I would have looked at him like that myself a couple days ago, but because that’s how Tam always looked at me. Like I was some thing that was so inherently wrong; some creature that needed to be tamed and bridled. Those pointed tips of the fangs I felt try to make an appearance earlier have come back, poking into my lower lip. I feel something shifting beneath my skin, a beast awakening from some deep slumber. My hands open and close reflexively at my side. The stirring feeling is strongest in my chest, right where I sometimes feel that weird pressure that’s somehow tied to Rhys.
“No, I don’t want to go back with him,” the words are steadier than I feel, my chin raised. I do not cower from them, or the fact that I mean them. Even though Lucien looks like I’ve punched him in the gut. I can’t go back. Not until I have the truth. Not until I can make sense of all this mess I feel in my head and in my heart. 
“Tamlin won’t take me back anyway,” I pull the gaps in the arms of my sweater down, so he can see the stars inked across my skin. “Nor do I feel like being tossed out again.”
“Y/N…” Lucien shakes his head, auburn hair flying around his tan face. “It was a misunderstanding.”
Rhysand won’t stop staring at me. I think he’s waiting for me to change my mind. 
“Please leave, Lucien,” I say, only looking at Rhys. I’m a terrible person, because there is so much unbridled hope in his eyes, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time, waiting for me to take my chance and run; I’d been playing games this whole time, he hadn’t.
He hadn’t been playing games. 
I’d used him, taken what I needed, and had planned to throw him out when I was done. Even if he had killed me father, I was still… I was still just like my own father. The realization nearly knocks me off my feet. What have I done?
“This isn’t the end of this,” Lucien hisses as he backs up, never leaving himself exposed, even as he reaches for his mount. The horse is old, it’s mane patchy and unkept, I’m not sure how it carried Lucien here, let alone how he expected it to carry the both of us. “Tamlin will consider this a breach of your agreement.”
“We agreed not to kill each other,” Rhysand returns. “If he comes at me now, then he’s the one that broke that agreement, not me.” 
Lucien swings into the saddle with ease, mount shifting slightly beneath him. “What of my scout?”
“What of mine?” Azriel returns.
“Food for the vultures,” Lucien snarls and my heart sinks even further. What if I’ve been wrong about everybody, not just Rhys?
“Then so is yours,” Azriel returns.
Lucien leaves with the remainder of his men, no further fight for Andras life to be had. Rhysand watches them go, wings still drooped behind them like they are impossibly heavy. I should try and comfort him, as that thing in my chest demands, but I can’t. My limbs refuse to move, feet rooted in the grass. What have I done? Where did I go wrong in all of this? I was just trying to do what I thought was right, but I’m not sure I know what that looks like anymore.
“Are you all right?” Rhysand asks once they’re gone. On instinct, he’s throwing his cloak around my shoulders again, cocooning me in that blissful pocket of warmth that smells like him. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of his kindness. 
“I don’t know,” the words slip out of me. I can’t think past the roaring in my ears. What have I done?
His hand falls to my back, gently leading me back to his horse. 
“For the record-” Azriel starts, but Rhysand cuts him off, “I know, Az. Thank you for staying with her.”
I think, even as we mount back up to return to camp, we would have all been better off tonight if this had been a fight with Amarantha.
------------------------------
Tag List:
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celestiaras · 1 month ago
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Hello! Can I request a one-shot of dom! Shu yamino (smut) with sub! S/O with the use of a vibrator? (Sorry that doesn't make sense) Thank you!
ft. shu yamino x f! reader — luxiem, nijisanji en
╰₊✧ testing out a different kind of magic wand ┊0.5k words
contains: smut!! dom shu & sub reader┊ooc shu, established relationship, vibrating wand, edging & punishment, college au, bratting/brat-taming kinda, hand-fixation, kindaa dubcon if you squint but it’s fully consensual promise
➤ author's note: guysss i’m so rusty at writing smut, this is so embarrassing smh T-T i didn’t do shu justice, but i need this out of my drafts, it’s basically haunting me!! honestly just ignore this and hope i do a better job next time (i'm exhausted from nonstop travel, someone send help)
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“c-come on, shu, i said i was sorry…,” you whined out breathlessly, trying to reach out and push away the little vibrating wand against your clit but also doing the contradicting action of pushing your hips into it. you weren’t really sure what you wanted, if you wanted him to stop edging you, or if you wanted the buzz of pleasure to continue even if it wasn’t getting anywhere.
the decision rested in the hands of your boyfriend, who promptly swatted you away and only applied more pressure which made you cry out. he’s not normally this mean, you can’t remember the last time he’s been this mean. all you were trying to do was get his attention away from another one of those damn extra credit assignments he’s always so hell-bent on doing despite his lowest grade being a ninety-three, but you weren’t satisfied with the suggested compromise of him being all yours once he was finished, so now here you were pouting with tears in your eyes with too much of his attention where you wanted him most.
didn’t help that now he decided this was the perfect time to test out that new toy you bought online as a whim, a different type of magic wand the sorcerer was used to, but he mastered using it within a minute of fiddling with the buttons and was using on your with an almost sadistic enthusiasm you haven’t seen in a while. 
you didn’t want the plastic piece of modern technology though, you wanted to feel him. you wanted his hands after watching him spin around a pencil all day, pale with long and dexterous fingers on you, trailing over your skin and providing intimacy that being overworked college students deprived you of with your busy schedules. 
“shuu, pleasee…”
“‘please’ what?”
 “please touch me…”
“i am touching you,” he responded bluntly, referring to one of his hands holding your thighs apart because you wouldn’t stop subconsciously closing them from embarrassment under his intense gaze and from the random spikes of pleasure shooting up your spine when he upped the intensity of the toy.
“you know that’s not what i mean!”
“my girl is so, so needy,” he tutted. god, he really could be an asshole if he wanted to be, a sharp contrast to his usual kind-hearted mannerisms, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. “why did you even buy the wand if you were just going to keep it in a box under your bed and ask for me to take care of you then?”
“i told you, it was an impulse buy! also there was a sale going on—” it was increasingly difficult to keep a steady voice without outright moaning, just taking little pitched breaths in between while your vision was sparking white and your hands pressed into the mattress to grab onto the fabric of the bedsheets. “please, please, shu, i need it so bad—”
“in a bit, i just wanna watch my pretty girl fall apart like this first, i think i deserve that much. besides, we gotta put your money to good use, don’t we?”
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vanishingstarrs · 3 months ago
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hello! it me again :> sorry to bother you
I read your one shot "Try again" feat. Katsuki x reader. in it, you wrote that you'd love to write for Denki as well. did you or do you happen to know if anyone wrote a Denki x reader story / one shot or drabble where he charges everyone's gadget (phones, laptops, etc.) but readers? and he confronts them when they explain they just don't want to exploit him (like the others)? if not, how your take would be? thank you!
( hellooo ☞ ☜ this is so late omg i’m v sorry but this has been in my drafts forever and i finally finished it the other day !! i’ve never come across this fic, but i’m sure some variation of it must already exist, here is my vers. though !! pls enjoy <33 )
electric touch
You were walking down the hallway, frowning to yourself as your phone announced once again that it was low on battery. You fumbled with your cord, trying to get the damn thing to cooperate with your portable charger, which unfortunately seemed to be also lacking any of its power.
It looked like you would have to sit at the very back of class in order to plug in your phone.
Just as you began to look around your book bag for any signs of your wall plug in, you saw a group of your classmates gathering around the lockers.
You hesitated, wondering why everyone was making so much commotion.
You walked up to Jiro and nudged her side in order to get her attention,“Hey, babe, what’s going on over here?”
She chuckled,“Just Kaminari being his usual gullible self. Did you know there was a power outage last night? No one’s phone is charged, and Mineta convinced him to see how many phones he can get to a hundred before he runs out of juice and starts acting fucking stupid.”
The longer she talked, the deeper your frown became. You walked around your friend, poking your head into the classroom and spotting your class vice president and one of your best friends.
“Momochan!” You approached her desk,“Haven’t you heard what’s going on outside? Don’t you think we should stop it before he gets hurt?”
“Kaminari knows his limits.” Iida, the class president, came over as he overheard everything going on,“He’s also been warned about doing things like this before class, if he does, indeed, get hurt then he’ll be missing class in order to go to Recovery Girl and that’s solely on him.”
You huffed, turning helplessly to Aizawa for help,“Sensei—”
“Don’t involve me.” The tired man sighed.
You threw your arms up in exasperation,“Whatever!”
You took your book bag and tossed it on the desk at the very back of the class, going as far as to move the table a bit more to reach the wall plug in before going back to your previous task and looking for your charger, only to come up blank. You’d probably left it in your dorm room. Fuck. Okay, this was fine. You didn’t need your phone, and you could definitely survive without it. At least until lunch when you could go back to the dorms to grab your charger. You would just focus on work until then.
It wasn’t really too low anyway, you decided as you moved it to the edge of your desk. You wouldn’t use it unless it was emergent.
Aizawa deemed the period to be catch up time, and since you were already caught up with all your work, you decided to get ahead on future assignments. You had a project coming up in Mic’s class that he’d mentioned last week, he’d given everyone the work packets early just in case the class had procrastinators like him (his words). You worked silently, ignoring your classmates titters and giggles as they avoided working.
Your eyes couldn’t help wander over to Kaminari’s empty seat throughout the period, and even during your next few classes.
Once lunch rolled around, you motioned your friends to go on without you before turning in the other direction and heading for the infirmary. You walked in, eyes searching for Recovery Girl, but she seemed to be out.
“Hm…”
You walked further into the room, eyeing the curtain pulled in front one of the beds,“Kaminari? You in here?”
A body sitting upright immediately startled you, as a voice called out,“L/N?!”
You went around the curtain, raising your hand for a wave like an idiot and giving him a smile,“How are you feeling?”
Kaminari groaned as he sat up further,“Well, I’m not dumb anymore, I mean I am, but not in the sense that… you know what I mean. Anyway, I was just waiting on Recovery Girl to come back and dismiss me, think someone got hurt over in 2B.” He kind of went off on a tangent,“Man, I’m starving.”
You opened your bag and pulled out a clementine, going straight to peeling it,"Here."
"Thanks." His eyes lit up as he took the pieces you were handing him,"So... what brings you here?"
“Just wanted to check on you…” You shrugged when your phone dinged.
kyoka ♪ ( / ⌒0⌒\) ツ: girl where did u go ??
y/n ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ: felt bad, came 2 infirmary to check on kaminari, start w out me !!
“Hey, your phone is—”
“It’s fine.” You chuckled as you put it away,“I won’t need it too bad, plus I already borrowed a wall port from Jiro, I’ll just sit in the back in math and get it some juice.”
“But I can—”
“Really, Kaminari, it’s fine.” You stood up, just as Recovery Girl came back,“I’ll see you in class, hopefully?”
“You don’t need to leave on my account, dear.” Recovery Girl took one look at him and nodded,“You two can head off. Nice of your girlfriend to come and check on you after the stunt you pulled this morning.”
“Oh she’s not—”
“I’m not—”
She gave a knowing look, stopping you both from saying anything else.
You chuckled awkwardly and the woman seemed to shoo you away as she began stripping the sheets on the cot Kaminari had just been on, he stood up as he was kicked out of bed and followed you into the hallway.
You offered him another orange slice.
“Walk to lunch together?” He asked with a grin.
“Okay.” You agreed,“Yeah, I mean, we’re both heading over there.”
“Right.” He nodded.
You walked in silence for a bit until he stopped all together and you turned to look at him, questioning,“You feeling okay?”
“You never ask me to charge your phone for you.”
"Right..." You weren't sure where this was headed.
"And you never laugh at me whenever my brain gets fried and I turn into an idiot... everyone else always makes fun of me and the fact that I don't really have a handle on my quirk yet, despite the year being more than halfway through."
You frowned,"That's not true, I think you've come a long way."
"There you go being nice to me again." He seemed almost exasperated… with himself? You couldn’t tell. “Why do you do that?"
"Because I'm nice?" You shrugged, unsure of what he meant exactly,"I don't know, do you want me to be mean to you, Kaminari? Because I couldn't do that. I never even ask you to charge my phone for me, it just feels like... I don't know, exploitation of your power?"
"But you've asked others to use their power to help you before, what about when you asked Sero to help tape your binder back together? Or when you had Jiro eavesdrop on Ectoplasm and Miss Midnight to know what you scored on the math test?" He brought up several points.
You felt yourself get flustered,"That's different, they're my friends so I felt comfortable asking them to do those things."
"Are we not friends?" He pouted.
"We are!" You tried to think of what to say.
"Then what's up? Why is it different when it comes to them?"
"Because I like you!" You finally revealed, you took a deep breath and turned away from him as you felt your embarrassment overpower any other emotion,"It's different because I have a crush on you, and I know you've never seen me that way, it's why you flirt with literally everyone except me, but it's okay because I would never hold that against you, and I'm rambling now, but the whole point of this, I think, is already lost, and I should get going, I'm sorry I made this whole thing super awkward, you don't have to say any—”
"I like you too."
"What?" Your eyes were wide now.
"I have a crush on you." He repeated with a laugh,"I never flirt with you because I could never stand to face your rejection, even as a joke, plus I never want to make you uncomfortable... I've liked you since the entrance exams when you beat me to one of those stupid robots, showing everyone just how strong you are."
"Oh." Was all you could say.
He grinned, cheeks looking a lot more full of color now than he had earlier that day when he landed himself a bed in the infirmary. You weren’t sure if it was because he felt better now or because he was slightly blushing.
“Oh. That's all you got to say?"
"Kind of...?” You were definitely blushing. “I don't know what to do now…”
The boy laughed, walking back over to you and taking your hand in his,"This okay to start?"
"Yeah." You agreed, readily.
Your hands must’ve been clammy, or his were, or it was some side effect from him having overused his quirk earlier, but you were sure his touch was electric.
"Good." He smiled,"Now give me your phone, there's no way I'm letting my crush walk around on five percent."
You hesitated.
"I won't go stupid again, promise, it's just one and that would be seriously embarrassing if it happened." He explained, and when you still didn't hand over the device to him, he groaned,"C'mon, please? How else am I supposed to sneakily enter my number in your phone?"
And you couldn’t say no to that.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months ago
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i know it's one of the lesser voted ones, but i'm really excited for trouble is!! your fics are so good. take your time ofc, you're super awesome! <3
thank you so much!!!
I am honestly surprised that Trouble Is is one of the lesser voted ones. I thought it would be popular just on the basis of it being Sex Pollen. And because TMR seems to have a big active fanbase on Tiktok? There are a lot of edits for it? There are a lot of edits for it, with new ones being posted often. That's how I got inspired to get into my own personal TMR renaissance
Thomas is really hot as played by Dylan, and I am surprised that more people wouldn't be excited by the idea of a Sex Pollen fic starring him.
Anyway - the content of the votes don't really matter to me, because all the fics are finished in my drafts and will be posted at some point. And because you're excited about it, I have decided that I'm gonna post a little preview of the fic just for you <3
Trouble Is... - FANFIC PREVIEW
Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader
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Warnings: sex pollen - which means dubious consent (but in the full fic it's implied that the characters have pre-existing feelings for each other, therefore they want to have sex with each other very badly, the sex pollen just distracts them from the existing dangers of their world); WCKD drugging the characters with sex pollen for nefarious purposes; chemically induced arousal (to an extreme); there is no explicit sex in this section just mentions of sexual arousal and sexual attraction between the characters; implications of scent kink (from Thomas toward the reader; I think that's it for this section? It's not mentioned here, but Thomas and the reader are being trapped/held in a room against their will (which they are distracted from by the sex pollen chemicals in their systems).
...
All that I know is I just can’t say ‘no’ to you - funny how things never change.
All that I wanted was just to get over you.
Trouble is - I can’t find a way. You’re part of me.
Trouble is - you’re part of me.
...
“Chemical compound LI69 has been distributed.”
“How long until the subjects feel the effects?” 
“Effects will be immediate. Symptoms should be noticeable in ten to twenty minutes. Desired outcome will be inevitable within twenty four hours.” 
“Good. Keep bi-hourly notes. I want a full report.” 
...
He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before, but he could even smell you in the air. Your natural smell was something so prominent in the air - shamefully, something he knew so damn well, something he had memorized and treasured close when his memories had still been so few and his head had still been so empty. Hugging you those first few times, he had tucked his nose into your hair and greedily whiffed deep breaths of your scent, absolutely loving how you were sweet, soapy - even if you were slightly sweaty from a long day of work, your natural scent was so damn perfect for him. 
It was a smell that he loved so dearly - on top of everything else that he loved about you. 
This time that wonderful scene that he knew as you had something else underlying with it - something needy and pungent that he wouldn’t quite know yet was arousal. But it was bringing back that feeling of anxious insanity that he had been boiling with earlier that day. The feeling that made him practically crawl out of his own skin, feeling like he needed to get to you. 
Here, now, being in this room with you - he still didn’t feel close enough. He still didn’t feel as though that anxious thing inside of him, calling out for you had been answered. Not yet. 
He had the urge to reach out and pull you close, hold you in his arms again, but he had a feeling that he would squeeze you tight and not want to let go - and then he would lose focus on getting you out of this room and to a safe place. And that just wouldn’t do. 
“Thomas - your shirt…” You whispered the words on the edge of your breath, as though you were breaking some terrible secret by speaking it aloud. 
He had almost forgotten that he had stripped off his shirt in such a haste - and the fabric was now clutched tightly in his shaking fist. Unconsciously, he was directing all of his energy to that point, furiously focusing on his grip to help himself resist the urge to reach out and grab you. 
He hadn’t yet noticed the way you were looking at him. Your eyes hungrily raking over his bare torso, scanning over every inch of him from the muscles that bulged in his biceps while he moved to the veins protruding in his forearms to the trail of delicious dark hair that disappeared down into his pants. He thought nothing of taking off his shirt in front of you, because it was something he had done plenty of times before while working in the gardens with you (as a leader in the Glade, you had rotated jobs a lot, going wherever a spare hand was needed) - and you certainly hadn’t looked at him with anything resembling hunger in your eyes back then. 
At least, he thought you hadn’t. 
“Sorry.” He mumbled out, worried that he had made you uncomfortable by stripping so casually in front of you. “I just find it really warm in here - do you find it hot?” 
He moved on, hating that nagging heat, almost as if it was crawling under his skin - something so much different from the warm sun of the Glade. This was a heat bubbling inside of him, pin-pricking all over his skin from the inside out. He wondered if this was what a fever felt like. Was he getting sick? Was he going to get you sick?
He felt another thick bead of sweat roll down his face and he used his balled up shirt to wipe it off. 
“I guess?” You huffed out, seeming irritated. “Maybe.” 
You squirmed on the spot and let out a pained sound, something that had Thomas on high alert once again. 
“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked, purposefully locking his knees to keep himself from jumping toward you. 
If he was getting sick, then invading your personal space wouldn’t be a good idea. In fact - he made it a point to take a step back, keeping his eyes locked on you, keeping a protective watch over you while his back became flush with the metal of the door. It was a pleasantly cooling sensation for a moment before the fever inside of him overpowered it - reminding him just how boiling hot he was.  “It hurts.” You told him, your voice dissolving into a pained whine - shamefully, the sound rocked Thomas, and flooded him with something that could have only been described as arousal.
Fuck.
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foli-vora · 1 year ago
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Helloooooo! 3000 that's flipping mental, congratulations!
Could I please request some pelvis smashing smut with Frank Castle and:
“H-How long have you been standing there?”
Thank yoooo! 💖
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Sweet love! I appreciate you so damn much, thank you for your request. I'm so sorry for the insane delay, but I hope you enjoy this little bit of filth 💖
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close up
frank castle x f!reader
word count: 1k-ish? i finished it in my drafts so idk warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, use of saliva as lube, masturbation (f), toy use, smidgen of voyeurism, oral (f), brief mention of double penetration
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It’s stress that has you so wound up. Tension hangs in your muscles, an ache starts to build behind your temples. You just need something to take the edge off, something to throw yourself into to forget the shit day you’d had to endure. You just want to be—no thoughts, no anxiety, just calm bliss.
And you know exactly where to start.
Usually it would be him. He’s always there for you when you need him, always more than happy to please, to work those worries and stresses away until you’re nothing but a sweaty mess, all shaky limbs and panting breathlessly at the ceiling without a single coherent thought in mind...
...but today Frank wouldn’t be back for a few more hours, and so you decide to take advantage of the quiet, empty apartment. Some days you’d wait, nerves strung and foot bouncing until he’s within arms reach and ready to chase all your shit away, but not today.
Today was rough, and you need something now. 
The dildo isn’t new by any means, but you’ve found very little use of it since Frank had taken up a more permanent spot in your life. It’s exactly where you left it, and soon your pants are abandoned on the floor beside your bed. 
You don’t bother undressing fully, you don’t even bother getting in the damn sheets. Your too impatient, too pissed off, too tense. It takes only seconds until your legs are spread, and you're spitting onto your fingers, smoothing them along the ridges along the toy and running the blunt tip of it through your folds and along your slit.
It's slides into your pussy with a bit of resistance, having not prepared yourself or the toy properly, but you see it through, and with a few smooth strokes, you feel your body start to warm to it, you feel the toy start to glide easier the more it moves within you and your hips start to meet the rhythm of your hand.
You picture Frank and how he looks moving above you, how he feels pressing you firmly into the mattress as his strong hands keep your thighs spread. You imagine the low gravel of his voice melting in your ear, telling you how good you feel, how good you're taking it and how crazy you drive him—
He's the last thing you expect to see when your eyes flutter open from a particularly deep hit of the toy, thick arms crossed over his chest and broad body braced comfortably up against the doorframe.
“H-how long have you been standing there?” You pant softly, not in the right mind to even feel the slightest bit embarrassed at getting caught in such a way.
“Long enough to enjoy the show,” he returns, a tug of a smirk pulling at one side of his lips, “you had a rough day, sweetheart?”
“Mm, you gonna get over here and help me, or just stand there?”
“Didn’t think you needed my help,” he rumbles, his grin briefly widening, “but I can’t say no to that.”
He steps into the room quietly, shrugging his jacket off while he does so before sinking a knee into the mattress and smoothing rough hands down your thighs. You go to remove the toy but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand pressing against yours and soon taking it over, pushing the dildo back deeper into your cunt until you’re whining softly from the pressure of it. 
“Let’s leave it in, pretty girl,” he mutters hoarsely, sinking onto his front and letting his tongue run along his lower lip as he drags the thick length of silicone back and forth, watching the way your slick pussy spreads and swallows the toy.
He’s entranced. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, his eyes often unable to help but fall and study the way his own cock splits you open and takes you apart whenever he gets the opportunity, but it feels different here. It’s not his cock, but he’s the one controlling the toy—the speed, the depth…
The way your cunt parts for it, the way the silicone glistens with your creamy arousal when he brings the length out to where only the tip remains probing at your entrance… Jesus. He’s got a goddamn close up of the whole thing, and it’s got him feeling damn near pathetic as he fights to grind into the sheets to sate the borderline agonising throb of his hard cock pressing up against his jeans. 
“God, look at you. You look so damn good baby, you’re takin’ it so well.”
You feel your chest heave at the praise, a slight pinch of impatience working it’s way between your brows at the slow pace he seems content using, “Frank—”
“Shh,” he soothes, pressing wet kisses along the inside of your thigh and feeling the jump of muscle under his lips, “you gonna let me have my turn, alright? Let me have my turn, and I’ll make it all better.”
His words melt against your core with a wash of hot air, and it takes everything in you to not buck your hips up in anticipation. Thankfully you don’t have to wait long. Lips soon press against your aching clit in a light kiss, before his thick tongue begins to roll firmly against the swollen nerve, languidly dragging up and down at the same pace he thrusts the toy in and out of you.
It’s fucking maddening. It’s perfect. 
He takes his time working you up, alternating between working his tongue over your clit in practised, methodical strokes that have your thighs tensing and toes curling, to sucking it softly into his mouth until the walls of your pussy flutter and clench around the hard, unforgiving surface of the dildo he keeps you full with.
It’s not long until you feel that flood of heat start to spread out along your limbs from your core, the familiar churning and tightening of a climax hanging just out of reach until your thighs start to tremble beside his head. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, curling tightly around the shortened strands in an effort to ground yourself as you begin to feel the end approaching.
He groans deeply against you, spurred on by the brief flash of pain along his scalp, and the vibration of his mouth against you as it works away is enough to push you that last little needed distance until you’re off the edge completely.
You fall with a sharp cry, bucking weakly against his mouth from the assault of blissful double stimulation through your orgasm and unintentionally fucking yourself deeper onto the dildo, dragging out your orgasm and milking it for all its worth.
Stars dance along your vision as you come down from your high, and your body practically melts into the mattress beneath you when he finally lets up and breaks away from your clit with a wet smack of lips, still keeping the toy buried to its hilt in your cunt. 
“I’m wonderin’…” he murmurs, his voice barely breaking through the thick haze drowning your mind, “you think you could take me as well, sweetheart?”
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bryngmemoney · 1 year ago
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✁FASHION FLIRT✃
Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
⭑story masterlist link
tw: death jokes
Writing in between messages!!
🪡Chapter Sixteen: Deserve each other
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You sat in the fashion room, waiting for Megumi to show up. It was around 5:45 and he had texted you saying he was almost there, just stopped for gas. It was fine since you guys hadn’t agreed to meet till six, you just happened to be early. It was late and a Friday, so no one was really around, except for some people in the film room right next to you apparently. Every now and then you would hear a muffled yell, almost reprehending. You just figured it was some people arguing over something.
You saw another text from Megumi saying he was about to leave the gas station and head over saying he’d be there soon. Distracted by your messages, you failed to realize the person standing at the open door in the front of the room. You looked up after seeing something move in the corner of your eye, jumping a little when you saw Sukuna standing there glaring at you. “What’d I scare you?”
“Ew freak, what are you doing here?”
“Could ask the same thing.”
You looked back down at your phone, turning it off and placing it down on the table. “Waiting on Megumi, trying on his stuff.” He just hummed in reply heading over to the table you sat at “You and him a thing?”
“Well, kind of?”
He just squinted his eyes at you for a second, before replying “He could do so much better.” “Ok fuck you.” He just laughed in response.
“Was that you yelling in the room over?” you asked. “You could hear that?” He actually looked surprise. “You’re always so damn loud, just you talking gives people headaches, can you imagine your screaming.”
Even after knowing him for a while the way he stares people down still freaks you out, like how he was doing right now. “I wouldn’t have to if people were competent, my fucking partner sucks, he doesn’t know anything and his ideas are stupid, I should’ve hunted down Yuji or that one emo friend of his.”
“Junpei?”
“Jellyfish yea.”
“It’s Junpei, and who’s your partner anyway?”
“This annoying ass kid with blue hair, he’s so weird, I wish Uraume or Megumi were film majors. You know, actual competent people?”
“I almost did choose film, if that helps.”
You and Sukuna looked up to where the voice was coming from, seeing Megumi walk towards you guys, a small smile on his face. “Megumi!” you two collectively said. He responded with a hey, taking a seat next to you.
“How you’ve been? You and Y/n?” Sukuna asked.
“And Uraume?” Megumi replied.
“Goodbye, I take back my previous statement you two deserve each other.”
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Author’s Note: this chapter came out WAYYY later than i wanted it to but i just got so busy even if it was in my drafts i could not find time to finish it
but anyways like two (maybe three) chapter will be out tomorrow (hopefully) 🤗🤗🤗🤗
hope you guys enjoyed!
Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!
TAGLIST
@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst
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mintsturniolo · 2 months ago
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I missed you (m.s)
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bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader
a/n: emptying out the drafts again. if you don’t like the preadd name you can add your own or don’t read. it’s up to you 🤍
summary: matt surprises you for your birthday
Kayla sat at the kitchen counter listening to Matt talk to her on FaceTime. He’d been planning to come back to Boston for her birthday but had gotten caught up with some PR events that were keeping him and Chris in LA longer than they had planned. “I’m so sorry baby. I really wanted to be there for your twenty first.”
Kayla shrugged as she propped the phone against her glass. “I understand,” she sighed, unsuccessfully trying to mask her disappointment.
Matt sighed as he looked around where he was sitting. “I have to go. But I promise we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Matt frowned when Kayla didn’t respond. “Hey. Look at me Kayla.”
When Kayla looked up he smiled slightly. “I’m going to make it up to you. I know I’ve been gone for longer than usual.”
“Okay,” Kayla muttered. “I love you Matty.”
“I love you too,” Matt replied and hung up.
Kayla looked up when Nick walked into the kitchen. His wet hair suggested he’d just gotten out of the shower. “Everything okay?” He asked as he opened the fridge.
“Yeah,” Kayla replied. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
Nick raised an eyebrow as Kayla made her way into Matt’s room. Nick went back to his room and found his phone. “Hey. What’s up Nick?” Matt asked.
the next evening
Kayla laid in bed looking at her phone as she waited for Matt to call her. She’d thought he would’ve called before now, but he must’ve been busy. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she sat up. “What’s up Nick?”
“I was thinking we could go out for a nice dinner or something. I hate seeing you so upset,” Nick replied.
“Where would we go?” Kayla asked, her curiosity piqued.
“That steakhouse you’re always talking about,” Nick replied.
A smile formed on Kayla’s face as she looked at Nick. “How did you even get a reservation on a Saturday night?” she asked as she got up to find something to wear.
Nick smiled. “I planned it because I knew you’d say yes,” he replied, as he started to make his way out of the room. “I’ll see you at the front door in an hour?”
Kayla nodded excitedly as pulled out a red dress that she hadn’t found a reason to wear yet. “What do you think?” she asked.
“Perfect,” Nick replied with a grin.
Excitedly, Kayla got herself dressed and began working on her makeup. This restaurant had always had a special place in her heart since she had moved to LA back in high school. She finished curling her hair and found her bag before making her way to the door.
*time skip *
Nick smiled as he led Kayla into the restaurant. “Oh damn,” he muttered as he searched his pockets. “I forgot your birthday present.”
“Oh?” Kayla asked.
“Yeah. Tell the host you have a reservation for Sturniolo. I’ll be right back,” Nick replied and hurried out of the restaurant.
Kayla made her way to the hostess as she looked around the restaurant. “I have a reservation for Sturniolo.”
The hostess smiled and led Kayla through the restaurant. They made their way up a flight of stairs and onto the rooftop where Kayla gasped when she saw the scene in front of her. A single table on the rooftop was lit up with candles. Kayla took a seat as she continued to look around her. Nick seemed to be taking a long time to find whatever he was looking for. She was just about to call him when she saw movement in the doorway. “Waiting for someone?”
Kayla gasped as she looked up. Matt was standing in the doorway grinning, a boquet of white roses in his hand. “Hello my love,” he said as Kayla ran to him.
“Matt! I thought you wouldn’t be back until next week,” she said excitedly as she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you would be disappointed so I booked an early flight,” Matt replied. “Chris has it handled.”
Kayla blushed as Matt handed her the roses and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “I hate being away from you,” Matt sighed, as the couple took a seat at the table.
“I’ll come with you next time,” Kayla replied as she picked up her menu.
Matt and Kayla talked about all the events that had happened during their week apart from each other. Matt couldn’t help but admire his girlfriend. The way her eyes sparkled from the lit candle. Her smile as she told him about a party she’d gone to a couple days ago.
As the couple finished their food the waitress approached them to offer dessert. While they waited for dessert to arrive Matt reached across the table and took Kayla’s hand in his. “I got you something while I was in LA,” he told her.
“Aww Matt…” Kayla started to say, as Matt set a jewelry box in front of her.
Kayla eyed the box curiously. Matt couldn’t help but grin excitedly as he watched Kayla open the box. Kayla gasped as she opened the box. “Matt! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you got it” she said happily.
“You’ve been wanting a locket with your dad’s picture in it for a while now. I saw it while shopping with Chris, and I knew you would love it,” Matt replied.
Kayla got up and hugged her boyfriend, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Matt. I love it so much.”
*time skip *
“I can’t believe how gorgeous these flowers are,” Kayla was saying as she and Matt made their way into the house.
As the couple reached the top of the stairs, Matt turned to Kayla and kissed her gently on the lips. “If you want to get comfortable, I’ll put these in water,” he told her.
“Okay,” Kayla said happily, making her way to the bedroom.
Matt finished arranging the flowers and placed them on the dining room table. Seeing that Kayla was in the bathroom, he went into his room and changed into some more comfortable.
Kayla walked into the bedroom a couple minutes later with her damp hair put up in a bun and opened the closet, to find herself a hoodie.
“Did you enjoy your birthday my love?” Matt asked as Kayla sat down at the vanity to take off her makeup.
Kayla grinned as she looked at her boyfriend who was already settled in the bed. “The best present anyone could’ve ever given me my love. I missed you so much.”
Kayla finished up her skincare routine and made her way to the bed, joining Matt. She snuggled up against her boyfriend and smiled. “Thank you for making today so special,” she yawned.
Matt hummed sleepily as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I love you,” he replied.
“Love you,” Kayla murmured, already dozing off.
Taglist
@dirtylittleheart333 @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos @ivysturnss
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