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#but anyone who knows me knows I'm tearing my hair out right now
triaelf9 · 5 months
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*sighs for a million years*
Ladies' kimono don't cross the opposite way. Ladies' kimono don't cross the opposite way. Ladies' kimono don't cross the opposite way, this is not western clothing where the buttons change depend on the "gender" of the shirt
In Japan, it is ALL left over right side. If you're looking at it, it should look like a lowercase "y" like the other two men's ones in the pictures. Right over left is how it's crossed for a funeral. And is a cultural faux pas (if not bad luck, given how many cultural no-nos are tied to the funerary process)
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wrioluvr · 10 months
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『dumbass.』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x amab reader. pt 2
sub! yandere who likes to take advantage of your kind nature to fish for compliments. he would degrade himself in front of you, acting all self-loathing to get your attention. nothing compares to the rush he gets as you rush to comfort him, trying your best to make him feel better.
sub! yandere who gets so jealous when you're nice to anyone but him. true, that's one of the things he loves about you, but why do you have to be friendly to everyone? they're all sluts anyway, who only like you for your looks. he can't really be talking when he snuck a photo of your cock and had a dildo custom made to your size, thrusting it in and out of his tight hole whenever he's feeling especially lonely.
sub! yandere whose biggest fantasy is you fucking and spanking him until he can't walk. come to think of it, he's never really seen you angry, like ever. the idea of you upset with him is both terrifying and exciting, he doesn't want you to hate him, but also the thought of you hatefucking him is so... it's enough to make him feral. he's sure you have to have some pent up energy somewhere, he would gladly offer his body for you to abuse. he knows you would never ever consider hurting him, but one can dream, right?
"come onnn. let me give you head." he pleads, clinging onto your arm like it's a lifeline. his eyes prick with tears. much to his surprise, you're the one who gets on your knees, kneeling in front of him. "wait, what are you doing? i don't need you to please me first...." he starts to protest frantically, waving his hands about. "i thought you wanted to give me head? like...headpats?" "no, silly. head means i wanna suck your dick." "oh!" "speaking of headpats, can you pull my hair while i suck you off? like really hard, please." "i don't wanna hurt you, though-" "how many times do i have to say, you could literally murder me, and i would thank you." "...i don't think that's possible." "i'll find a way. so what i'm saying is, be as rough as you want. please." he gags on your length, relishing the feeling of it stretching the slick walls of his throat. no matter how many times he's done this, you always worry he'll hurt himself. "hey...you're okay, right?" you ask worriedly, stroking his hair. he responds by making eye contact with you, swirling his tongue around the tip of the head, eliciting a rather passionate response from you. "fuck, i'm gonna-" involuntarily, you grip his hair tighter and let out a load into his mouth. he came in his pants, too, from you merely tugging his hair a little forcefully. soft pants fill the room. this would be the perfect opportunity for them to degrade me right now, he thinks to himself. but you don't. instead, you take a tissue and dabble at the cum dripping down his chin, making sure to clean him up. he loves you and would never overstep your boundaries.... he just wishes you were a little meaner.
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droaxa · 2 months
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this game
✧tags: yandere cheater x reader pt. 3
✧warnings: kidnapping, bondage, MNDI, reader is touched inappropriately
✧a/n: hey guys this is gonna be the final part of my yandere cheater, i really appreciate all the love i've got so far and i'm excited to show you all what I thought up for the final bit! don't hate me too much for the end haha
part 1 - part 2 - part 3
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The first sensation that hits you as you wake is a burning feeling in your throat. you shoot up immediately and go into a coughing fit, what happened? The second sensation is the blinding bright lighting, a harsh white compared to the soft yellow in your dorm. Your eyelids feel stuck as you try to open your eyes, almost as if they were glued together.
You force your eyes open and your surroundings alarm you, even in your drowsy state. This room clearly wasn't yours. In fact, it wasn't Raph's either. You knew his room, messy and boyish but not sterile and clean like this. You observe your surroundings, a mostly empty room with minimal items but all necessary furniture.
Then you locate the cause of the ache in your wrists; two tightly tied ropes connecting you to the bed frame. You try to pull away, hoping the knots will come loose but to no avail. Your legs are free unlike your arms, but bare. You're dressed in a large t-shirt, something you knew Raph owned and just your panties. You dreaded being exposed to Raph in such an intimate way, especially considering that he most likely changed you, but the thin layers were better than nothing.
As if hearing your silent plea that he shouldn't come through the door, Raph enters with the click of the lock unlatching. His smug, almost satisfied look makes you uneasy. What did he have planned for you?
"Finally up sweets? I was gettin' bored without ya" he drawls out, stalking closer to the bed with every step.
You inhale sharply and attempt to pull yourself into a sitting position by your wrists, not wanting to be lying down as that man approached you. But almost as if reading your mind, he crawls into the bed. Grabbing your ankle and pulling you down into a resting position with him over you.
"Uh uh" he tuts, "No runnin' away, but I mean-" he cracks a menacing grin. "It's not like there's anywhere to run to huh?"
Your eyebrows furrow as you plead with him, "Raph please, just let me go and I won't tell anyone what you did. If you have any love or at least respect for me, please let me go"
He cocks his head to the side as if thinking about your demand, then all of a sudden-
BAM!
He's on top of you, hands on either side of your head and legs keeping your legs down. "I'm doing this because I love you, can't you see? I know imma asshole for cheating but c'mon. Don't say you didn't miss me"
You scoff and hiss out your words, "Miss you? You're just a cheating lowlife and psycho who couldn't take what he dished out"
"Psycho?" He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks in the process. "Well yer life is in the hands of this psycho darling, so I'd watch what you say" He leans in even closer, his hair now tickling your forehead. "All I did was prove my love for you, getting rid of that bitch, taking care of my brother. They were all getting in between us"
You try to stay calm but tears start to form in your eyes, he was the one who tore you two apart. Not your friends or his brother. "It was you that got between us. Just because you tried to right your wrongs, in the worst way possible, doesn't mean I need to forgive you"
Like he was waiting for you to say that, he grins again "Forgive me? Oh, you'll be forgiving me soon"
He lifts up your body just enough to allow his larger one to fit under you, you were lying on him. Just like when you were together. His face rests on your shoulder as one of his hands grabs a remote off the bed stand next to the bed, arms encircling your waist with the remote in the front.
He then turns on the TV opposite of the bed, the news network flashes on screen.
A woman dressed in formal wear and a bun appeared at a mahogany desk, her face holding a solemn expression. "A horrible tragedy has struck the local university today" A picture of a university, no. Your university flashes on the screen. "A university student had been found in the dorms on campus, horribly injured" A picture of Ray flashes on screen. No.
"Thankfully, an anonymous tip earlier that day proved to save this young man's life as paramedics arrived on the scene just in time" She continues, "Sadly, he has fallen into a coma due to health complications. So please, we ask you to send your love and strength to this young man's family."
Her face looks sterner now, "The main suspect at the moment is a young woman who owned the dorm the student was found in" No, it can't be- "(y/n) is seemingly on the run at the moment, please notify your local police station if you see her in your city" A picture of you pops up. No, no no.
With that Raph clicks the TV off, grinning. "Oh wow, you really did all that (y/n)?"
You don't say anything, face frozen as you stare at the dark TV.
Raph catches onto your shock and coos in your ear, rough hands caressing your waist "Oh darling you're free to stay here, I mean it's not like you have anywhere else to go"
You turn your head toward him to the best of your abilities and blurted out, "What did you do"
His eyebrows raise as his grin widens, "I didn't do anything, not my fault you decided to move to such a low-security dorm. I mean, no cameras or security guards? Besides, who would believe you?"
You spit out your words with venom, "My parents will, my friends will, Ray will. You won't escape this"
"Oh really, the same parents who are countries away? The same friends who fucked your boyfriend? Don't get me started on Ray, but it's not like that vegetable can say anything"
Your hope starts to diminish, he was somewhat right. Your so-called 'friends' would never vouch for you. It would be a miracle if your parents would come in time to help your case; even if they did, the odds were stacked against you.
And Ray, poor Ray. He didn't deserve this, he deserved the life he always dreamed about. The little farmhouse in the countryside, a beautiful wife, and a few kids. Even if it wasn't with you, he deserved it and so much more.
You couldn't ignore the feeling of Raphs body beneath yours, his hands gripping you. Was this the way it would end? Hopelessly alone, doomed to be unhappy? The one you loved was battling death, barely alive and here you were: unable to to anything but cry.
Were you crying? You snap out of your daze to a strange wetness on your cheeks, salty moistness. Did you deserve to cry? What could you have done differently to stop this? Would things be different if you had never initiated something with Ray, if you had stayed with Raph, if you had never come to this university?
But the hot breath hitting your neck told you everything you needed to know, this was your now, your forever. Trapped in the arms of your merciless captor, one who wouldn't spare even his own family.
Forever bound to misery, the only witness of your downward spiral would be the cold walls of this house. Funny, how it only took a few hours to strip you of everything you were. All that was left now was a husk, a memory of what was before.
Perhaps, he really had won.
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a/n: so ik you guys wanted to keep ray alive and technically i did, but i may or may not have twisted it a bit haha. i consider this ending the true ending but i'll take suggestions to write shorter stories on the alternate paths the reader could have gone down to change their fate!
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heejake-hoon · 3 months
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Synopsis: you made Jake a little jealous, and now you have to face the consequences.
Tags: smut, mdni, name calling (cumslut, fuckdoll...), unprotected sex, hair pulling, light choking?, kind of possessive Jake.
note: not proof read, also rushed
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You gasp as Jake slams you against the wall, crowding into your space until you're enveloped by his heat, his scent, his sheer overwhelming presence. His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back sharply to bare the column of your throat to his darkened gaze.
"You've been acting like a little brat all night," he growls, nose skimming along your jawline. "Teasing me, flirting with other guys, making me fucking crazy with jealousy. Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted me to snap? To put you in your place?"
His other hand comes up to wrap around your throat, fingers flexing warningly. Your pulse flutters wildly against his palm and you swallow hard, mouth going dry at the dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Jake, I-" you start, but he cuts you off with a harsh squeeze to your windpipe, just hard enough to make you light-headed.
"Shut up," he snarls, free hand gripping roughly your breast through your shirt. "You don't get to play coy now, Y/N. Not after you spent the whole fucking night acting like a shameless little cocktease.” he squeezes the flesh in his hand harder making you moan “No, you wanted this. Wanted me to remind you who you belong to, didn't you? Wanted me to stake my fucking claim?"
You whimper, knees going weak as he rolls your nipple between unforgiving fingers. Slowly, deliberately, you nod, holding his dark gaze with your own. Something like triumph flashes across Jake's face and your stomach swoops in anticipation.
"That's what I thought," he says lowly, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear. "You're mine, Y/N. This body is mine.” he tugs on ur nipple making you whimper in pain and arousal. “And I think it's time I reminded you of that fact."
Suddenly, he's spinning you around, shoving you face-first against the wall and yanking your skirt up around your waist. You yelp as he rips your panties clean off, the delicate lace giving way easily under his impatient hands.
"Fuck, look at you," Jake groans, trailing teasing fingers through your dripping folds. "Already so wet for me, baby. So desperate for my cock. I bet you'd let me fuck you right here, where anyone could walk by and see what a needy little slut you are, huh?"
"Yes," you gasp out, arching back into his touch shamelessly. "Yes, Jake, please, want you so bad-"
He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart. And I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to fuck this greedy cunt so hard you forget your own name...."
Jake's fingers wrap around your throat from behind, cutting off your air supply and making your head swim. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, a broken moan escaping your lips as he notches the thick head of his cock against your entrance.
"Gonna feel so good choking on my dick," he rasps, rolling his hips torturously slow, barely breaching you. "Gonna look so pretty with tears in your eyes, fighting for every breath while I split you open. You want that, baby? Want me to wreck this pussy, want me to make you see fucking stars?"
"Please," you whimper, scrabbling for purchase against the wall as he drives into you harder, deeper. "Jake, fuck, need it, need you to- ah!"
Your words dissolve into a high, keening cry as he bottoms out, pushing the air from your lungs and making you roll your eyes. Jake sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against your ass as he rails you, fingers tightening around your windpipe until you're dizzy with it, until your lungs burn and your cunt throbs and you can't tell up from down.
"That's it, take it," he grits out through clenched teeth, angling his thrusts to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Fucking take my cock like the desperate little cumslut you are. Gonna stuff you so full of my dick you'll be feeling it for days.” He pulled away until only his tip was inside before slamming hard into you, earning a small cry from you as you started to lose it. “fuckkk, gonna paint this pussy white, plug you up and send you out there dripping with my fucking spend."
You keen brokenly, walls starting to flutter around him as black spots crowd the edges of your vision. You're right on the knife's edge of too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as Jake fucks into you relentlessly, choking you within an inch of your life.
"Jake," you rasp, scrabbling behind you to grab his wrist, nails biting into his skin. "Jake, 'm gonna come, gonna-"
"Do it," he snarls, doubling his efforts, slamming into you so hard your feet nearly leave the ground. "Come on my cock, Y/N. Fucking soak me, let me feel you shake apart-"
His words, his touch, the sweet ache of your lungs screaming for air - it's all too much. With a silent scream, you shatter, clamping down around him rhythmically as ecstasy crashes over you in blinding waves.
Jake swears in aw, hips stuttering as your cunt milks him for all he's worth. A few more erratic thrusts and he's coming too, muffling his groan against your shoulder as he spills deep inside you, marking you from the inside out.
Slowly, carefully, he loosens his grip on your throat, letting you suck in greedy lungfuls of air. You slump against the wall, knees giving out, but Jake is there to catch you, strong arms banding around your waist and holding you steady.
"I've got you," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby. Took everything I gave you like a champ. My good girl, my perfect little fuckdoll..."
You can only whimper in response, too dazed and dick drunk to form words. Jake chuckles, low against your skin, as he gathers you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom.
He lays you out on the sheets almost reverently, crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses. "I love you," he says quietly, smoothing your hair back from your sweat-damp brow. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You drive me crazy in the best possible way."
You hum contentedly, looping your arms around his neck and tugging him down into a slow, sweet kiss. "I love you too," you murmur against his lips. "Even when you're being a jealous caveman."
Jake grins, unrepentant. "Hey, I warned you when we started dating that I was the possessive type. Not my fault you didn't believe me."
You roll your eyes fondly, trailing idle fingers down his spine. "Mm, well, maybe I should tease you more often then. If this is the result..."
Jake's eyes flash with heat and he nips at your bottom lip in admonishment. "Careful what you wish for, brat," he warns playfully. "Keep it up and I really will fuck you in public next time. Bend you over the hood of the car and eat your cunt right there in the parking lot where anyone could see."
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chosok-amo · 3 months
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JJK HEADCANON : THEIR REACTION WHEN THEY KNOW YOU LOSE ONE ARM FROM THE SHIBUYA ACCIDENT
satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, ryomen sukuna
REQUEST ARE OPEN!!!
PART 02? ANYONE?
MASTERLIST!
𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
When Satoru Gojo is finally freed from the Prison Realm, he initially feels an overwhelming sense of relief and determination to set things right after being trapped for so long. However, as soon as he sees you, his heart drops at the sight of your missing arm. His usually confident and carefree demeanor is replaced by a mixture of shock, pain, and guilt. “Satoru...” you begin, but he quickly closes the distance between you, gently taking your remaining hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “I should have been there. This... this is my fault.” You shake your head, trying to reassure him. “It's not your fault. We all did what we had to do.” But Gojo’s eyes, usually so bright and full of mischief, are clouded with sorrow. He pulls you into a tight embrace as if trying to shield you from any more harm. “I promise,” he murmurs against your hair, “I won’t let anything like this happen again. I'll protect you, no matter what.”
𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Suguru Geto, having recently arrived at the aftermath of the Shibuya incident, surveys the devastation around him with a calculated gaze. His eyes narrow as he searches for any remaining threats or allies. Then, his heart stops when he spots you, lying in a pool of your own blood, one arm missing. For a moment, he's frozen, disbelief and shock paralyzing him. “No...” he whispers, his voice barely audible. He rushes to your side, dropping to his knees beside you. “Hey, stay with me,” he says urgently, trying to keep his voice steady. He quickly tears a piece of his own clothing to create a makeshift tourniquet, wrapping it tightly around the stump of your arm to stem the bleeding. His hands are shaking as he works, a rare display of emotion breaking through his usually composed exterior. “You're not going anywhere,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “I won't let you die here.” As he continues to apply pressure to your wound, his mind races, filled with a mix of rage and desperation. “Who did this?” he growls, his eyes flashing with anger. “I swear, they will pay for this.” But his anger is quickly overshadowed by concern as he looks down at your pale face. “You're going to be okay,” he insists, trying to reassure both you and himself. “We'll get you out of here, and we'll fix this. I promise.” His voice softens, a rare tenderness creeping in. “Just hold on for me, alright? I'm not losing you. Not now, not ever.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
After the crossfire, when the dust has settled and the immediate danger has passed, Nanami Kento finally allows himself a moment to breathe. He surveys the aftermath, his expression grim. The chaos of Shibuya has taken its toll on everyone, but his focus remains on finding you. When he finally sees you, propped up against a wall, clutching the stump where your arm used to be, a wave of relief and sorrow washes over him. He quickly strides over, his usual calm exterior barely masking the concern etched on his face. He kneels beside you, his eyes scanning your injuries. “How are you holding up?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with worry. He can see the pain and exhaustion in your eyes, and it makes his heart ache. “You did well,” he continues, his tone firm but gentle. “You survived, and that’s what matters right now.” He carefully checks your makeshift bandages, ensuring they’re still doing their job. Nanami takes a moment to look directly into your eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he says quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But I’m here now, and I’ll make sure you get the care you need.” He signals for medical assistance, and as they arrive, he stays by your side, offering support and reassurance. “You’re strong,” he repeats, more for himself than for you. “We’ll get through this.” Despite his composed demeanor, Nanami’s mind is a whirlwind of emotions. Anger at the enemies who caused this, guilt for not being there to prevent it, and a fierce determination to ensure your safety from now on. As the medics begin their work, he remains a steady presence, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You’re not alone,“ he says softly. “And you never will be, as long as I’m around.“
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
The Shibuya incident left a trail of devastation that seemed endless. Amid the wreckage, the realization dawned on Sukuna, the King of Curses, that the chaos he had unleashed had also ensnared you, the person he had grown surprisingly fond of in his own twisted way. He had reveled in the destruction, the power coursing through him, until he saw you—wounded, your hands gone, the realization hitting him like a hammer blow. When he approached you, lying against a crumbled wall with your hands wrapped in bloodied bandages, his eyes, usually filled with cruel amusement, were now dark and intense. The sight of you, broken and suffering because of him, sparked a rare flicker of something close to regret in his crimson gaze. You looked up, recognizing his form despite the pain and the haze. “Sukuna,“ you whispered, your voice weak but unmistakably tinged with relief and confusion. “What have you done?“ His jaw tightened, the usual smirk absent from his face. He knelt beside you, his presence overwhelming and intimidating as always, but now there was a new, unsettling intensity in his eyes. “This wasn't meant for you,“ he said, his voice low and laced with an edge of anger—anger directed at himself. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the turmoil. “It still happened,“ you replied, your voice strained but steady. “I got caught in it.“ He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with an unexpected gentleness. “I didn't intend for you to be hurt,“ he admitted, the words heavy with an uncharacteristic sincerity. “This is not what I wanted.“ Despite the pain, you managed a faint smile. “Intentions don't always match outcomes,“ you said softly. Sukuna's expression hardened again, the flicker of regret replaced by a determined resolve. “I won't let this happen again,“ he vowed, his voice a dangerous promise. “I will find a way to fix this.“ For the next few days, Sukuna stayed closer to you than ever before. His presence was both a shield and a reminder of the power and chaos that surrounded him. He kept others away, ensuring you had the space and safety to begin your recovery. His usual arrogance was tempered with a fierce protectiveness, an unspoken acknowledgment of his role in your suffering. One night, as he sat beside your bed, his gaze never left you, you reached out with your bandaged stumps, resting them on his hand. “I know what you are,“ you said quietly. “But I also know what I see in you.“ He looked at you, the usual mockery absent from his eyes. “And what do you see?“ he asked, his voice a dangerous whisper. “A monster with a heart,“ you replied, your gaze is steady. “A heart that cares, even if you won't admit it.“ His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a rare sign of vulnerability. “Then I'll use that heart to make sure you're never hurt because of me again,“ he promised, his voice filled with a deadly resolve. As the days turned into weeks, Sukuna's presence became a constant in your life. He protected you with a ferocity that left no room for doubt, his actions speaking louder than any words. He was still the King of Curses, but now, he was also the one who would do anything to see you safe and whole again.
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peachdues · 11 months
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HEARTBALM
Kyojuro x Reader (modern AU NSFW)
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A/N: I have COVID brain fog and it shows. You legally can't hold how bad this is against me. But if you somehow like it, likes/reblogs/comments, always appreciated! I promise I'm saving Netherwood for when I've recovered lmao.
This is like a Frankenstein-fulfillment request of several of my 2K event requests. So if you asked for Kyojuro and any of the prompts involving “please let me cum in you” or “woah, woah, I’m here. I’m right here,” congrats! This is for you. I’m sorry it’s ass.
CW: angry/possessive Kyojuro • mentions of toxic/slightly verbally abusive ex boyfriend • ex boyfriend gets decked • explicit sexual content • breeding kink • creampies • car sex • MDNI.
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Everything was too loud and too close. You swore you felt a dozen pairs of eyes burning holes into you with such intensity that you were surprised you were still standing, rather than folding over like a piece of Swiss cheese. The judgment in their gazes felt like a blade against your throat, the cold sting imploring you to fold, to disappear.
There was no air in your lungs, so before you could choke in front of all of your ex-boyfriend’s cronies and friends, you turned and did as cowards did; you ran.
You pushed and shoved your way through the thick crush of bodies that had gathered in this small, off-campus house for the last party of the semester, the last chance for them all to let loose before their lives became a flurry of final exams and papers and discarded coffee cups in dimply lit corners of the campus library. You’d thought it would be your chance to relax, too, after the hair-pulling stress that had been the last month and a half of your life. Stress, that had been expounded upon by the simpering, smarmy asshole you’d once called your boyfriend, who now stared after your retreating form with a vicious grin, apparently pleased to have gotten under his former girlfriend’s skin once more.
There was a buzzing beneath your skin that would not quiet, that seemed to only grow hotter and more incessant as you navigated the maze of bodies and tables set for beer pong in this labyrinth of college-aged debauchery. In the three minutes you’d been darting and ducking around what had to be half of the Ubayashiki University student body, you’d not seen a friendly or familiar face once.
Where was Kyojuro?
You needed to find your sun. You needed your kind, supportive, and steadfast best friend who’d been glued to your side ever since freshman orientation, when you’d shyly approached him and asked if you could eat lunch beside him, feeling too nervous to risk approaching anyone else. He’d laughed, warm and welcoming, as he made room at his table for you, welcoming you with such sincerity and kindness that it was no wonder that you and so many others were drawn to him.
And though Kyojuro treated almost everyone as though they’d been best friends for years, you had been the only one in your orientation group that he’d allowed to truly get to know him. Whether it was during a morning stroll through the campus green as you made your way to your early morning classes, or pressed up against the greasy wall of the grill as you waited for the fry cook to call out your orders, the walls Kyojuro had so carefully crafted to conceal the tempest of passion and fire that raged beneath his dazzling smiles and loud, booming laughs began to peel back, and you saw him for what he truly was.
Truthfully, the more he showed you, the more you wanted; he was a riddle you would never tire of working out, a puzzle you hoped never to solve, even as the pieces fell faster and faster into place.
As your circle of friends grew, your bond only strengthened. It was Kyojuro you called when you found out your beloved childhood dog passed away, hardly able to speak through the tears as they streamed down your face. It was Kyojuro who had all but sprinted from his residence hall to yours, well across campus, with three pints of your favorite ice cream in tow, and who’d let you eat your fill until your stomach was full and the emptiness in your heart had subsided.
And it was you who Kyojuro had called to come join him as he’d smoked a rare cigarette, hands shaking with both his hurt and his anger after a particularly nasty call from his father.
And yet, you’d never dated; you’d never escalated your friendship beyond a few, charged moments that had been marked only by a series of almost and never anything completed.
He wasn’t a fan of your ex-boyfriend; that much he’d made clear. Though Kyojuro had never been one to be unkind towards anyone, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes tightened any time your ex let a door slam in your face or ignored your hand in favor of his phone. Kyojuro hadn’t been shy to let you know that he thought you deserved better – far better.
You’d wanted to ask him whether he thought better was with him, because you knew deep in your heart, if he asked, you would be his; but you never built up the courage to ask, and so you quashed these feelings down deep, hiding them away in a locked chest never to be opened.
Then, you’d finally broken up with your ex only a month prior after discovering he’d cheated on you with no shortage of other students on campus, everyone but you apparently having been in on the cruel joke. Kyojuro had been one of the few steadfastly in your corner, insistent that you’d done nothing wrong, no matter how many times your ex tried to claim you’d pushed him into sleeping with half the student body.
You hadn’t seen your ex, not since you’d coolly told him the pair of you were over, all those weeks ago; not until tonight, when you’d nearly smashed into him while trying to get a drink from the makeshift bar in this strange house you’d never been in.
“Well, well,” your ex-boyfriend had crooned, hand gripping your elbow and keeping you trapped there with him and his smirking pack of hyenas looking at you like you were something to devour. “Did you miss me that much, gorgeous?”
“Get off me,” you’d tried to growl, though the slight wobble in your voice defeated any attempt of yours to be threatening, instead leaving you to come off as a scared little girl, cornered somewhere she shouldn’t have been.
Your ex’s eyes were malicious as they raked over you. “Did you wear that for me, darling?”
He was referring to the red sundress you’d worn, the one you knew made your curves look downright sumptuous, but now you felt like it was a neon sign that read “HARASS ME,” given the hunger in your ex’s eyes that sent your skin crawling. You’d worn it for yourself, to feel confident, only now, you felt like a piece of fruit ripe for plucking, and you’d somehow fallen into the greediest hands on campus.
By divine luck, your ex’s grip on your forearm loosened and you yanked back out of his reach, forgoing the red plastic cup containing whatever grotesque combination of alcohol the party hosts had come up with in favor of putting as much distance as possible between yourself and your ex.
You’d come with Kyojuro and your friend Tengen, but now you couldn’t find either and it only made you feel more lost; more vulnerable. There was a buzzing in your ears that drowned out the pounding base of the music thumping through the blown-out speakers haphazardly set up in the house’s den. Your vision tunneled, and you wondered whether anyone would notice if you dropped to the floor and screamed; if anyone would care.
Stumbling blindly, you smashed into something warm and sold, and it sent you staggering backward.
“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, eyes still wide and unfocused as you moved to push past whatever or whomever you’d smacked into, uncaring at the way your torment was surely etched into your face.
“Woah, hey, hey,” a warm hand closed around your arm as you tried to shove past the body, steadying you, locking you into place. “Y/N, look at me.”
The familiarity of the voice and the touch did not register, and you only continued to shake your head, muttering your apologies.
“Woah, woah, woah. I’m here. I’m right here.” Kyojuro caught you by the arm as you tried once more to shove past him in your haste the leave the party you’d stupidly decided to attend. A hand gripped your chin and firmly but gently turned your head up to meet a pair of ochre eyes, running over you in concern.
“Kyo,” you breathed in relief, feeling yourself melt slightly beneath the steadying warmth of your best friend.
Kyojuro’s mouth was set in a hard line. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
You uttered the name of your insufferable ex and Kyojuro’s eyes darkened. “What did he do?”
His hand gripped yours and you were grateful for the way it helped anchor you and kept you from spinning out under the anxious whirlwind of your thoughts. “Nothing, he’s just being an asshole – please, Kyo, can we leave?”
You felt slightly guilty – after all, it was you who’d suggested you all come to this party in the first place, and now you were the one wanting to leave less than an hour later, but it was too much. Surely, your best friend wouldn’t hold your fickleness so terribly against you, not when it wasn’t your fault in the first place that you’d been sent careening toward an anxiety attack.
Kyojuro didn’t hesitate as he nodded. “Just let me find Tengen and I’ll let him know. I’ll drive you home.”
You smiled faintly in relief, squeezing his hand appreciatively before letting him go. The way Kyojuro’s fingers had lingered against yours had made your heart flutter, chasing away thoughts of him, your ex, and replacing them with a shy curiosity that made you want to know what those fingers would feel like if they touched other parts of you.
Or, it may have been the little alcohol you’d ingested coloring your thoughts; after all, you’d hardly eaten that day in preparation for getting properly soused at the party you now were so desperate to leave.
You retreated into the kitchen, near the open door that led out to a finished, in-ground pool in which several other attendees were already swimming, some without clothes on, too lost in whatever beverage or drug they’d ingested to care. You’d thought yourself safe, amidst a crowd of admittedly drunk party-goers, but it seemed not even the threat of onlookers would keep your abrasive ex at bay.
A hand grazed your rear end, and it sent every hair on your body standing. “Why in such a rush to leave, gorgeous?” A sickeningly familiar voice purred in your ear.
You spat your ex’s name with as much vitriol as you could muster as you turned to face him. “I told you not to fucking touch me.”
Your ex placed a hand mockingly against the wall, next to your head as he leaned in close. “What’s wrong, baby?” His breath was rank with the stench of stale alcohol, and it made your stomach churn. “You used to like being manhandled.”
Your face hardened. “Not by you; not anymore.” You swatted his hand away from where he’d boxed you in, eager to put this party and him behind you, where they belonged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me –”
Your ex’s hand seized around your wrist, its grip tight – too tight. “Just hold on, you haughty little thing,” his tone was kept light but the look on his face was menacing. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
You pulled at the hold he had on you but to no avail. Though you were surrounded by other party attendees, you felt alone, more isolated than ever, as countless eyes pointedly ignored your struggle. You were about to open your mouth, to shout, to curse your ex out, when your ex’s hand suddenly released your arm.
“Take your fucking hands off of her.”
Wide-eyed, you looked to see Kyojuro’s considerable fist wrapped tightly around your ex’s forearm, its size dwarfing the limb beneath to look like a mere twig. Kyojuro’s eyes, normally so inviting and open, had gone hard and black, his jaw stiff with his ire. Though the cold rage contorting your best friend’s face was not directed at you, its sudden manifestation from your otherwise sunny, warm, and gentle friend made you recoil.
“Kyo,” you started, voice low in warning as your eyes darted between the lethal anger simmering on Kyojuro’s face and the infuriatingly smug look on your ex’s, as he smirked at the burly blonde.
“I don’t think this concerns you, Rengoku,” your former boyfriend simpered, a challenge lighting his eyes as he jerked his chin towards you. “This is between me and her, pure and simple.”
Desperately, you glanced around the room hoping to find any of your other friends who could step in, who could intervene before things turned too ugly. Mercifully, you locked eyes with Tengen, who was just on the other side of the pool, grabbing another drink. Eyes wide, you looked back and forth between Kyojuro and your silver-haired friend, hoping he understood your silent plea.
A curt nod from your friend communicated he had, and Tengen quickly began pushing through the throng of people who had begun to coalesce around the edge of the pool as they watched the pair of men engaged in a stare-off beside you.
Kyojuro raised his head slightly, looking down upon the man you used to claim to love in disgust. “Any yet she told you to leave her alone. Are we having listening problems?”
A sardonic smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”
Your ex’s eyes cut back to you, a sneer curling his lip. “Figures,” he spat, his tone full of acid. “Not even a month broken up and you’ve already spread your legs for him like a fuckin’ whore.”
There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding spectators as Kyojuro stepped closer to your seething ex, their noses nearly touching as he held his stare.
“Say it again,” Kyojuro said quietly, all traces of that mocking smirk long-gone, replaced only by a malicious glint in his eyes that promised swift violence that had your hand jumping to grip his arm in warning. “Go on.”
Your weak tugs at Kyojuro’s bicep did little to divert his attention. For one, terrifying moment, you feared that blows were imminent, until a painted hand shoved between the two men, pushing Kyojuro back by his chest.
Tengen.
“As much as I hate to break up the fun, I’m sure you don’t want the entire school witnessing you getting your face pounded in,” The silver-haired senior said coolly to your drunk ex.
Kyojuro allowed himself to be pushed back by his friend, though he refused to break the tense stare he held with the man he’d marked as his opponent. “We can work this out anytime, it doesn’t have to be here,” he taunted with a jeering smirk. “But stay the fuck away from her.”
“Don’t try and fucking tell me how to talk to my ex-girlfriend,” your former lover spat, taking an unsteady step towards the three of you. “Why’re you standing up for the bitch, anyways? The whore has kept stringing you along for god knows how long without putting out –“
His drunken ramblings were cut off by a sickening crunch of bones beneath a fist that seemed to echo through the crowded backyard. Onlookers stared in shock as your ex staggered back, hands flying to staunch the crimson now coursing from his broken nose, curses thick and garbled slipping from his mouth as it filled with blood.
“Shit.” Tengen breathed, his eyes wide.
A dozen pair of eyes turned towards you and your best friend, round with shock as an uncomfortable buzz settled into the thick, night air. Kyojuro was panting, the skin of his knuckles stained with blood from his split skin and that of your ex’s as he stared at your flame-haired friend.
“I warned you,” Kyojuro’s tone was almost jovial but its cheerfulness was undercut by his glower. “Watch your fucking language when speaking about a lady.”
Your hand clenched at his bicep once more. “Kyojuro, let’s go.”
Your tone snapped him out of whatever cold rage in which he’d been simmering and his amber eyes lifted to meet yours. You did not wait for him to follow as you turned sharply on your heel and stormed out of the house, eyes resolutely focused on the door in order to avoid acknowledging the way dozens of pairs of eyes followed your every step.
---
Your feet hit the pavement of the street outside, the night air cool on your heated skin. You heard the steady beat of your friend’s footsteps behind you, and you whipped around, eyes blazing, and blood boiling.
“What the fuck was that?” You hissed once the two of you were far enough away from the party and any nosy on-lookers as you stalked toward Kyojuro’s car. “Were you trying to get yourself arrested?”
Kyojuro did not answer, the scowl on his face turning into something menacing beneath the flickering lamps lining the crowded street.
“I was handling it just fine, you know, but you had to step in and turn it into a fucking pissing contest –”
“Stop talking, Y/N.” Kyojuro finally snapped, his voice a low growl.
You only seethed. “Who the fuck do you think you are –?”
Your fiery companion only placed a hand firmly at the small of your back and pushed you forward, your feet nearly stumbling to keep yourself upright as he guided you towards your car.
“Kyojuro –” you began, testily.
“Shut up, Y/N.” He cut you off severely. “Just – be quiet and get in the fucking car.”
Something about his tone coupled with the stormy look on his face quieted any further protest you may have had, and you allowed him to forcefully guide you to his car. Kyojuro wrenched the door open and pushed you down into the passenger seat, even taking the time to fasten your seatbelt for you, the brush of his hand against your waist searing into you in a way that made you squirm.
As embarrassing as you found it, you could not deny that your friend’s protectiveness over you stoked something hot and molten in your gut; made your thighs rub together, as your stomach fluttered.
Kyojuro was silent as he drove, the air between you cackling with electricity.
“Have you calmed down?” You asked sarcastically after several minutes of tense silence, unable to stomach the quiet any longer.
Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I can’t believe you dated something like that,” he ground out, eyes fixed hard on the road ahead of him. “The way he spoke to you just now – that doesn’t come out of nowhere.”
You fidgeted in your seat, fingers playing with the band of the seatbelt as the weight of Kyojuro’s accusation settled.
“That wasn’t the first time, was it?”
Your shoulders curled inward, and you suddenly felt like a cornered animal; you resented him for it. “What does it matter, now? We’re done. It’s over, and I’m not going back.”
Kyojuro pulled sharply off an exit, following a bumpy road to a quiet, darkened overlook that abutted a state park. He stopped the car, slamming it into park as his hands remained tightly curled around the steering wheel, his breath hard and fast in his nose.
“Why did you date him?” His tone was almost accusatory. “He was an asshole from the start, and yet you dated him for almost a year.”
You bit your lip and Kyojuro’s eyes followed the movement closely. “Because I wasn’t sure of another’s feelings.”
Kyojuro exhaled sharply, turning his body more towards you, his eyes locked onto you with searing intensity. “And this other – did you ever confess your true feelings?”
You hesitated for only a moment, shaking your head slightly. You chanced lifting your gaze up to meet his, gulping slightly at the heat which you found there.
There was a beat, and then the two of you surged towards one another over the center console of his car, drawn to one another like a pair of magnets. Your mouths met in a fiery clash of lips and teeth, Kyojuro’s tongue sliding seamlessly into your mouth to dance with yours. His hand rose to tangle in your hare, ensnaring you against him and his fervid touch and desperate lips.
He moaned your name against feverish kisses, his lips only breaking from yours to dance across your jaw, your neck, any part of you he could reach.
He wasn’t close enough; you tugged at the collar of his button down, trying to pull him atop you, to feel if his chiseled body felt as rock-solid as you’d always imagined.
“You’re impatient,” he chuckled against your throat as he sucked his mark into your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”
Your fingers, buried deep in his flame-colored hair, tugged, insistent. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”
Warm hands gripped your waist and hauled you up out of your seat. Somehow, you were folded in just the right position to be passed over the console of his car, and Kyojuro swiftly tossed you into the back seat of his car. As you panted for breath, the skirt of your sundress rising high up your thighs, Kyojuro clambered over his own seat to join you, pinning you half between the backseat and the car door.
Before he reconnected your lips, Kyojuro’s hands found his way under you once more, deftly maneuvering you until it was he who sat against the backseat of his car, and you were straddled in his lap, chest heaving and cheeks pink.
“Was this your goal?” You teased, and to your delight, you felt something hard begin to press into your groin as your breath mixed with his, a slight fog beginning to condense on the windows. “To have me at your mercy?”
Kyojuro leaned up slightly, brushing his lips against the fluttering pulse point in your neck, smirking against your skin. “If you’re asking whether I took you out of the party with this in mind, then no,”
His hands smoothed up and down your sides before sliding behind you to squeeze your ass, rubbing firmly as he rolled his hips up into yours.
“But if you’re asking if I’ve planned to have you this way at all… then I would say,” he cut himself off as he kissed his way back to your lips, holding back the tantalizing feel of his mouth against yours for a fraction of a second. “That has always been my goal, beautiful. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
He kissed you softly then, teeth lightly nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away once more to look over you.
“But I want far more from you, if you’re willing to give it.”
Your heart fluttered in your throat as your legs clenched. You knew there were several meanings to his words — both in terms of the physical and with regard to your long-term relationship.
You settled on his lap, arms looping around his neck as your breath mixed with his, anticipation fluttering in your stomach.
“Kiss me, Kyo.” You whispered, your eyes lowering to his lips.
He regarded you with a half-lidded, lust-filled expression of his own. “Where?”
Your fingers wound in his hair, pulling softly in a way that made him moan. “Everywhere.”
Sturdy yet nimble fingers worked their way up to the buttons on the bodice of your sundress, undoing them with a swiftness you’d not realized he possessed.
The last button undone, Kyojuro brought his hands to the loosened folds of your sundress and pushed them aside, warm hands grazing the sensitive skin beneath.
“Christ, woman,” he groaned as your bare breasts were revealed to him. “You’re killing me.”
You giggled, inwardly glad you’d forsaken wearing a bra beneath the dress, though you certainly hadn’t intended to wind up like this — perched in your best friend’s lap, his growing bulge digging into the sensitive spot between your legs as he leaned in to take one pert nipple into his hot mouth, his hand covering the other breast and rolling it beneath his fingers.
Not a single part of you could bring yourself to regret the decision, however, not as Kyojuro’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud, your head falling back as you pressed your chest against his face, begging him for more.
Kyojuro moaned against your breast, his hand steadily working the other as he nipped and sucked at you, covering your chest in splotches of purple and red, your skin bearing the mark of his teeth as he claimed you.
You ground down against the rigid bulge nestled between your thighs, breath hitching as he pressed against that sensitive spot between your legs, causing a rush of your fluid to surge forth and coat the flimsy lace of your thong.
If you weren’t careful, you’d risk leaving evidence of your desire smeared right on the front seam of his pants. But if Kyojuro cared, he certainly didn’t show it as his free arm looped around your waist to push you down, forcing your groin to mash tightly against his.
Your hands moved desperately down Kyojuro’s front as his mouth continued to work your breasts, until they reached the top of his pants. You fumbled with his belt, determined to loosen it and free the hardened bulge straining against the crotch of his pants.
“You’re so,” Kyojuro panted, his hips twitching up against your touch. “Eager, my flame.”
Your ears perked at the affectionate nickname. “Your flame?” Your lips swept to the side to suck at the side of his neck.
Kyojuro’s head tilted to the side, allowing you more access as he pressed you harder into his face. “Yes, my flame,” he nipped lightly at your pert nipple, just as his fingers slid between your thighs to dance along the sensitive skin between your leg and hip. “Because you make me burn.”
His fingers grazed the front of your thong and Kyojuro groaned at the wetness he felt seeping through the thin lace.You nearly hissed at the contact, grinding yourself against his fingers, beseeching your best friend to give you more, to touch you where you needed him most.
“Kyo,” you whined, head falling back.
“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro slid two fingers beneath the crotch of your underwear, dragging them right up your drenched slit. “You’re wet — so fucking wet.”
“I just want to slide right in,” your friend teased, and his fingers easily breached your entrance, working deep into your opening as you mewled for him. “I bet you could take me just like this.” 
His thumb brushed against your clit as his index and middle finger worked your core, making you stiffen stop him as your breath labored. Kyojuro swore again as he curled his fingers upward, feeling the way your velvet walls clenched around him.
“K-Kyo!” You gasped. “I can’t wait — I need you. Need you now.”
“Then I guess we agree,” Kyojuro growled against your lips as he shifted you beneath him. “Because I can’t wait to be inside you, either.”
Kyojuro spread you out beneath him, against the worn cloth of his backseat. He fumbled above you, trying to contort his large body in the small, cramped space of the back of his car.
His hands moved to loosen his belt and shove the tops of his pants and briefs down his hips, just far enough to let his leaking, stiffened cock spring forth, its tip smacking against his belly. Your mouth watered at the sight, at the thickness of his length, far more than you’d ever encountered before.
Kyojuro smirked at the awe on your face. “Trust I know how to use it, too.”
You flushed dark at the boldness with which he spoke, though your voice somehow remained steady. “Then prove it.”
Kyojuro covered you with a low growl, his hands flipping the skirt of your dress out of the way as his fingers slid your thong down your legs, chucking it to the side. He tugged you forward over the seat, a buckle of a seatbelt digging somewhat uncomfortably into your back, though that discomfort was quickly chased away as Kyojuro lined himself up with your entrance and pulled you sharply down, impaling you on his rigid length.
Your scream choked off in your throat as he shifted to press one leg up against the back rest of the seat and used his hands to hold your other open, keeping you spread wide for him. His thrusts were wild and frenzied, though his motions were somewhat limited by the spatial constraints of the backseat of his car. You didn’t care, however; not as his cock pistoned into you so deeply, you swore you saw stars; not as his coarse base ground against your sensitive clit, Kyojuro’s name falling in a repeated whine from your lips.
Kyojuro tried to brace his feet against the rear door for leverage for his thrusts, but each haphazard movement only caused him to grow more frustrated.
He tried to distract himself by pressing his lips bruisingly against yours, but it was not enough. Your flame-haired friend slammed his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.
“Fuck this,” he growled against your lips before he pulled out of you and away. You whined at the loss of his body heat, so warm and all-consuming. The ache between your legs had become nearly maddening as the empty walls of your core now clenched around nothing.
Even in the dark, Kyojuro’s eyes glowed, like pools of molten ore threatening to burn you with their heat as he reached blindly behind him and jerked on the handle of the car door, using his foot to kick it open.
He slid out, his stiffened cock still standing proudly above the loosened waistband of his pants as he rose to his full height. Reaching back into the car, Kyojuro wrapped his strong, warm hands around your knees and tugged you across the backseat toward him until your ass was on the edge of the seat, your legs dangling outside the door, toes just grazing the gravel below.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Kyojuro’s voice was harsh yet commanding, and your compliance was automatic. Your legs instantly wound around his waist, locking at the ankles against his lower back.
His hands then dipped below where you still lay against the worn seat of his car, splaying across your back. His grip secure, Kyojuro hauled you up and out of the back seat, his arms readjusting his hold as his hands came to rest under the skirt of your sundress, fingers kneading the fleshy curve of your ass.
You decided you’d gone far too long without his lips against yours, and so with a needy moan, you slanted her mouth back over his, sighing happily into him as his lips parted to allow your tongue to sweep in and glide alongside his.
So intoxicated were you by his kiss that you did not realize Kyojuro had walked you around to the front of his car, his headlights still beaming bright through the dark of the night air. A startled gasp broke your kiss at the warm press of metal against your back as Kyojuro laid you over the front hood of his car. Your cry of surprise did not seem to faze him, for Kyojuro only moved his lips to sweep across your neck with needy, open-mouthed kisses.
“Much better,” he grunted against your skin, his tongue flicking out against the hollow of your throat.
“K-Kyo!” You hissed, though you found it difficult to actually feel irritated toward the fiery blonde pressing you against the hood of his car – especially given the way his hips ground and bucked against yours. “We’re in the open!”
Kyojuro’s mouth pulled off your neck with a groan as he lifted his head to glare down at you as you panted and blushed beneath him. A hand reached between your bodies to grip the base of his cock, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull as you felt Kyojuro begin to drag the leaking head of his length up and down your slick folds, teasing.
“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it the way I want,” he warned, his voice roughened by raw desire. “I’m not letting myself be held back by a damn car seat.”
Any protestation or witty response you could have lobbed back at him died on your lips as Kyojuro pressed the tip of his cock firmly against your clit. Your head fell back against the hood of the car with a cry, your hips bucking up against his, begging him to take you and end the torment between your legs.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you that isn’t my name or how good my cock feels, got it?” Kyojuro bent low and took your nipple between his teeth, sucking at it harshly. “Answer me.”
A thumb and a forefinger replaced the head of Kyojuro’s erect length at your clit and squeezed once, in warning.
“Yes!” You yelped, your thighs tightening around his hips in a desperate but futile attempt to clench shut. “I understand – Kyo, please –”
Your begging was cut off with a scream as Kyojuro sheathed himself back into your dripping heat in a single, fluid stroke. Before you could catch your breath, Kyojuro began circling his hips, rolling them heavily against yours.
“That’s it, baby, just feel me,” He murmured, teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear.  “God, you feel like fucking heaven.”
“Kyojuro,” you moaned, your eyes rolling heavily back into your skull. “Oh god, more –”
Kyojuro’s answering groans were loud and unrestrained, tempered only by the squeak of his car hood as he brought one knee up to rest upon it, bearing more of his weight down upon you as his thrusts grew harder and harder.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight. “Fuck, I can’t get enough, I need more –”
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force as he tiled them further, tugging you flush against his groin with your backside nearly suspended above the car hood. Your moans melted into loud, high-pitched cries as you thrashed against the front of the car, the heels of your feet digging deeper into the steel of Kyojuro’s backside to press him closer, deeper into your velvet heat.
The new angle allowed Kyojuro’s cock to reach parts of you you hadn’t known could be explored, stretching you in ways you hadn’t realized could be stretched. How you’d managed to go so long without knowing the euphoric bliss that was Kyojuro’s body was a mystery you weren’t sure even the most revered philosopher could solve. All you knew, however, as the thick tip of Kyojuro’s cock pressed against something so deep within you it made your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken until drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, was that you could never have anyone else. No one would ever be capable of fucking you the way Kyojuro was right then, and you didn’t think you’d even allow them to try.
Despite your brain having been largely reduced to a puddle of gray matter in your skull with every lurid drag and push of Kyojuro’s cock into your soaked cunt, you forced your mouth to form a single, desperate command.
“More,” you begged, the word slurring off your tongue, breaking up the series of nonsensical babbles that had poured from your mouth the minute Kyojuro decided to mold your insides to the shape of him. “More.”  
“Jesus fuck,” Kyojuro’s jaw was clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, sweat running down his neck and sliding between the mass of his pectorals.
Broad hands slid to the back of your thighs and pushed them up and back until your knees kissed the hood of his car. The new angle allowed Kyojuro to pound even deeper into you, though it simultaneously rendered you utterly helpless to accept the battering of his cock as it rammed so far into you, you swore he would bruise your organs before the night was over.
The new position meant that Kyojuro’s base was pressed flush against your clit, the coarse hair of his groin circling against your sensitive nub as your own slick gathered, making a mess between where the two of you were joined. The stimulation made your toes curl, even as your feet flopped helplessly against Kyojuro’s broad back.
Whatever coil you felt winding tight in your gut, Kyojuro felt gathering as well, given the whimpers and moans that lilted from his lips in strings, his lips working a frenzy against whatever part of you he could reach.
“P-please, Y/N,” his voice broke through the pleasured haze in which you’d found yourself floating as you plummeted back down to earth; to him. “Please let me cum in you. Please.”
“God fucking – please,” Kyojuro groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. “I need to fill you. I need it, I need it.”
You didn’t doubt the sincerity of his need; the dull thwap of Kyojuro’s heavy balls against the underside of your ass made it clear your friend was pent up, and desperate to find his release. And that release wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable if he was forced to waste it over your stomach or breasts as it would be if you allowed him to fill you to your brim.
The answer was easy. “Y-yes,” you found your voice after a moment, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Give it to me, Kyo, please!”
Kyojuro’s lascivious groans deepened, the sounds falling from his mouth more akin to shouts of pleasure. His pace quickened though his rhythm grew sloppier. Kyojuro brought the leg still anchored to the ground up onto the hood of the car and positioned himself in a kneel, spreading his thighs wide and allowing his hips to weigh down heavily against yours as he pinned you in place, rolling into your heat.
“Fill me up, make me yours!” You were babbling now, half-delirious with pleasure and over-stimulation as you felt your orgasm build, the tight coiling in your belly promising to unleash the most powerful climax you’d ever had. “N-no one else has – no one else has – ngh – finished inside!”
A warm hand slid up to your throat and squeezed lightly as Kyojuro’s hips snapped against yours, his groans quieting to mere vibrations in his chest. “Not even – fuck – him?”
You didn’t need to ask him to clarify. “Never!” You gasped, limbs turning to liquid against the light pressure he applied against the sides of your throat. “Only yours – only yours to f-fill!”
Your affirmation made Kyojuro shudder violently above you, and before you knew it, Kyojuro was spilling forth within your core, giving you every drop of his hot seed as his hips rolled heavily into yours.
A broad hand slid down from your throat to rest against the bottom of your stomach and pressed down.
“Take it,” Kyojuro somehow had the presence of mind to speak, even deep in the throes of his climax. “F-feel how much I’m filling you up – oh fuck.”
You could. The weight of his hand against your lower belly pressed your front wall against the spurting tip of his cock as he unloaded deep within your core. And it was precisely because of the way you could feel him painting the inside of your walls that you felt yourself tip over your edge, that coil in your belly not merely unwinding, but breaking wide open.
With a sharp cry, you came, a rush of your sticky pleasure spurting forth from you and soaking Kyojuro’s lower abdomen and groin as he continued to pump into you, every twist and churn of his base against your clit only prolonging the sweet, torturous pleasure you felt as you screamed for him.
Kyojuro’s high finally ceased, as did yours, but that did not stop your flame-haired friend from continuing to pump into you, as though chasing yet another dizzying high.
“Kyo,” your cry was shrill was your nails sunk into the ropey muscle of your best friend’s back, your teeth gritting against the flicker of overstimulation flaring to life as Kyojuro’s rough base continued to grind right against your clit.
“I’m sorry, my flame,” and to your shock, you noted the desperate whine in his tone. “I can’t stop, I need more – c-can’t stop –”
You felt his cum squelching over where you remained connected, its sticky warmth dribbling down your inner thighs as Kyojuro continued to plunge his still-erect length in and out of your full cunt.
“I want to get you pregnant,” Kyojuro confessed, his eyes burning as they flicked between where he appeared and disappeared inside you, to the way your tits bounced with each of his punishing thrusts, and back to your face. “I’ve been dreaming about it since I met you.”
“C-can’t tell you h-how many times I’ve imagined filling you with my seed until – fuck – you’re carrying my child.”
Some small, rational part of your brain genuinely did not know whether he was serious, and an even smaller part was baffled that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care one way or the other. The only reaction you gave him, instead, was a struggle of your legs against his grasp until he allowed you to wrap them around his hips to hold him close as he chased his second release of the night.
“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll pull out,” Kyojuro grunted, though, with the way he continued to thrust even harder into you, you doubted his ability to do so. “Just say the word.”
Admittedly, it was probably too late to worry about that, given that you could still feel the traces of his cum trickling out of you as he continued to ram his length into your spent core. But even if that ship hadn’t yet sailed, you knew you could not let him pull out; could never, not when he made you feel this good.
“Don’t you dare pull – ah – pull out,” you managed, legs tightening around his hips to keep him pinned against you. “I want it – I need it, Kyojuro. Give it to me.”
Your words were enough. With a strangled shout, Kyojuro came once more, his excess cum leaking out of your stuffed cunt, its hot stickiness trickling between your cheeks and pooling on the car hood beneath you, staining faded red with milky white. The cant of Kyojuro’s hips still did not cease as he continued fucking his seed right back into you, and you could do nothing but spread your thighs wider and accept it, mewling softly with your lips against his collarbone.
Kyojuro remained tense above you for several more seconds before he relaxed, his weight pressing you fully against the car hood as he collapsed against you. You both remained quiet for a moment, working to catch your breath.
“Are you alright?” your friend breathed after a moment, nuzzling your sweat-slickened neck affectionately.
You nodded, unable to stop the wide grin which formed on your face. “One would think you’d been waiting a long time to do that, Kyojuro,” you teased, arching your neck to expose more of your throat as his lips traced delicately across it.
“And if I have?” He murmured, pausing to suck lightly on the sensitive skin below your ear. “What would you say then?”
You threaded your fingers through unruly, golden hair and tugged lightly, pulling his face from the dip in your neck so that he would meet your eyes.
“I would say,” you began seriously, suppressing a giggle at the way Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed. “That you should probably take me home, then, because I’m not nearly done with you.”
Your fiery friend answered with a growl, low and deep in his chest as he rolled his hips into yours once more, his cock twitching back to life.
Instead of pressing you back against his car, Kyojuro instead flipped you to your stomach, your breasts smushing against the windshield of his car, the sweat clinging to your skin certain to leave behind a lewd outline of your body against the glass.
“You should probably buckle up then, my flame,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Because I’m afraid I can’t wait until I get you into my bed to have you yet again.”
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!
can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?
if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀
Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)
cw: hospital
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words
The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 
He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 
He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 
“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 
You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 
“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 
“I—I don’t think so.” 
He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 
You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 
He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 
It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 
“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 
You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 
“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 
You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 
“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 
“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 
“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 
“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 
He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 
Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 
His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”
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dark-konohagakure2 · 24 days
Note
Could I request a Gaara X reader. Please
He sees her admiring his tattoo while at a neighbouring village, decides that noone will mind him taking her home with him. Gives her a matching tattoo somewhere on her body only he'll be able to see.
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tw: dub/noncon, kidnapping, scarification, womb marking, possessiveness, power imbalance, breeding, obsession, abuse of power
All characters depicted are 18+
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Gaara is somewhat insecure about his kanji shaped scar, having had it since he was a young boy, and he's never once been complimented on it, only pitied and mocked. So when he's visiting a small village on official business and a very cute villager girl expresses her admiration of his 'tattoo', it awakens something within Gaara.
Gaara is the Kazekage, and a respected one at that, so surely this tiny village wouldn't mind him taking a little souvenir with him, so that's exactly what he does. The red haired Sand shinobi feels a sense of contentment as he makes his way back home with his prize tucked snugly underneath his arm.
Despite his unconventional means of acquiring her, Gaara treats her rather kindly, doting on her and not letting her leave his side, and nobody bats an eye at the fact that the Kazekage suddenly has a woman they've never seen before at his side at all times. Gaara thinks it's fate, she complimented his biggest blemish, the mark of 'love' on his forehead, and he wants to give her one to match.
Gaara already knows exactly where he wants to leave his mark on her. He won't do it anywhere too visible, he wants it to be somewhere only he can see, so that it's a special secret just between the two of them, although it will hurt quite a bit.
"This mark means 'love', something very important to me... I'll give you the same mark right here, on your most precious spot, then we'll be bound together by our love forever... It only hurts for a moment..."
He'll use his sand to leave the kanji shaped scar just above her pussy and directly over her womb, marking her precious womb as his property and his alone. Gaara will even gently hold her hand in a comforting manner until the pain and her tears subside, although it doesn't take long before he finds himself getting a bit excited.
Now that he's marked her womb, he wants to fill it as well, claiming her body both inside and out. He needs an heir anyway, and he can't think of anyone more qualified to be the mother of his children then such a sweet and perfect girl who was able to see the beauty in something as nasty as a scar.
Gaara will be gentle despite the fact that he's practically forcing himself upon her, easing his cock in and out of her tight pussy, his face buried in the crook of her neck and he pants heavily and murmurs words of praise and love to her, his hips firmly yet gently grinding against her own.
This will go on for a very long time, taking hours until he's completely sure that he's thoroughly bred her full of his offspring before he finally pulls out of her, leaving her pussy leaking with his semen as he looks down at her with a gentle smile, a rare expression from the usually stoic Kazekage.
"Th-There... You did a great job, my love... I'm sure our children will be just as sweet and caring as their mother..."
Gaara is glad that he has found what he believes to be true love at long last after so much yearning for love, and he's not going to let her go anytime soon, and if she does get away, he wouldn't mind giving her another mark, just somewhere much more noticeable.
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fanfic-wonderland · 9 months
Text
Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}
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Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader
Word count: 2.6k
Read part two here.
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When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.
You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”
Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.
“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”
Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…
You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.
“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”
“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”
Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.
A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.
“Anything,” he says.
You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”
Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”
“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”
“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”
“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”
“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”
You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”
Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”
He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”
Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.
Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”
“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”
Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”
Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”
She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”
Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.
***
You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.
Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.
You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.
You really shouldn't have come.
The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway. 
So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”
“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.
You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”
“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”
You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care. 
That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.
The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.
You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”
You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”
“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”
Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”
Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”
“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.” 
Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”
Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.
You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.
He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.
You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away. 
Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”
You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.
You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”
A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.
“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”
Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.
You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”
His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”
You gape at him. “Coryo…”
You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”
And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.
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writemekpop · 6 months
Text
Forgive and Forget | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)
Summary: Haechan claims that you’ve been ignoring him – but he hasn’t been the best boyfriend either.
Genre: Established relationship AU, angst, baseballplayer!Haechan,
Word count: 1k
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From the moment Haechan walked in the front door, you knew something was wrong. His footsteps were too slow, too lazy.
Haechan trudged into the living room, head hung low.
"You're home!" You shut your laptop and walked towards him.
You wrapped your arms around Haechan's firm body, but he wasn’t hugging you back. His arms hung limply by his side.
You stood up on your toes and leant towards him, but Haechan dodged your kiss, swerving his lips away at the last moment.
He pushed you off him and trudged towards the bedroom.
"What's up, baby?" You asked, following behind him. "Did you lose the game?"
Haechan scoffed. "Actually we won, not that you'd know... or care." He mumbled under his breath.
You frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Haechan's dark eyes met yours. He stared at you, as if contemplating something. Then he broke your gaze, shrugging. 
"Forget I said anything." He pulled off his top and sweatpants, and went into the en suite bathroom.
“Want me to give you a rub down?" You smirked, thinking of all the times in Haechan's career as a professional baseball player that you'd met him for a steamy post-game massage.
Placing your hands on his waist, you started to follow him into the bathroom… but the door slammed in your face. You barely had time to yank your hands away. You stood staring at the white wood, your ears still ringing from the sound.
There was a hiss of water as Haechan started the shower.
You slumped down on the bed, unable to work out why your boyfriend was in such a foul mood. It seemed like the only emotion he had left was anger.
Haechan hadn’t kissed you for weeks. At this point you were more like roommates, not girlfriend and boyfriend.
Haechan came into the bedroom. His brown torso was dripping wet, and a towel hung low on his hips. The sight of your nearly naked boyfriend sent tingles running down your entire body. But you knew better than to approach him right now.
Haechan sat on the bed beside you, still naked. He stared at the floor.
"Why do you never come to my games?"
"I do come to them," you said. "I was there just last… last…" You stopped mid-sentence.
Actually, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been to a match.
Haechan scoffed. "All the other guys' girlfriends come to every single one. Jeno's girl always brings these amazing cookies that she bakes from scratch. Why don't you ever do anything like that?"
You frowned. "I'm not your personal cheerleader, Haechan. I have a job, you know. I’m busy."
Haechan sighed. "How busy can you be? All you do is sit at home all day and write stories for kids. Anyone could do that."
Haechan’s words felt like a blow to the face.
"Would you prefer if I didn't work? Would you prefer it if I came to all your matches... like some kind of trophy girlfriend?"
The look in his eyes was enough to know that he meant ‘yes’.
You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. "Unbelievable."
Haechan sprang off the bed. "Why do you always make our arguments about you? I'm the one who is supposed to be upset, but now you're crying." He rolled his eyes.
You swiped away the tears from your burning cheeks.
Haechan turned towards the wardrobe and put on a black T shirt and jeans. You watched him from the bed as he laced up his trainers.
"Where are you going?" you asked.
"To the after party. To hang out with people who actually care about me."
Haechan stomped into the hallway. You ran behind him.
"Wait,” you said. "Don't go."
Haechan's hand was on the front door. He paused, turning to look at you.  "Why not?"
You gripped your hair. "Because... I love you."
Haechan sighed. "I love you, too, Y/n. But that's not enough. I need a girlfriend who can spare three hours for a baseball match! You know I'd do the same for you."
"Would you?" you asked, voice quiet.
Haechan frowned. "What do you mean?"
You tugged at the hem of your shirtsleeve. You hated being this open. "When was the last time you came to one of my book signings?"
Haechan scratched his head. "I guess I've been busy..."
"Have you ever read one of my books, Haechan? They’re ten pages long."
“I’ve been… meaning to.” Haechan gulped. He let the front door go. It fell shut. He stepped towards you.
"Do you even know what my latest book is called?"
"It's called the owl and the... no wait, the little girl and the..." Haechan sank down onto the floor. "Shit."
You shrugged sadly. "Don't I deserve a cheerleader, too?"
Haechan buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. "I'm so sorry.”
You crouched down beside him and rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, too."
Haechan raised his head to look at you. His chocolate eyes were glassy, and the tip of his nose was red.
"I want to be there for you." He said, sniffing. "I understand if you want to break up but-"
You put your finger on his lips, shushing him.
"I don't want to break up, baby. We just need to make time for each other."
You stood up and held your hand out. Haechan took it, smiling weakly.
"What happened to us?" He asked, wrapping his hand around your waist.
You shrugged. "We're not perfect."
Haechan smiled. "I think you're perfect. I just… lost sight of that."
You bit your lip, cheeks warming. "Come here, you."
You cupped Haechan's face with your hands, stood on your tip toes and pulled his lips onto yours.
When you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time. Every sensation was new, his touch, his lips, his body. It set you alight.
MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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grimespial · 3 months
Text
"I still think you're beautiful."
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i kiss the scars on his skin
Carl didn't want you to see him. If Daryl hadn't forced you to get rest after spending all night slaughtering any walkers you found then trying to stay up all night in case he woke up. It was one of the first things his dad told him, you were driving yourself insane waiting to see him.
But what would you think? His face was probably mangled, atleast that's what it felt like, being shot in the eye couldn't be pretty. He'd felt insecure before sure, but this was worse, he felt... broken. Carl knew there was no hiding forever, you would see his face eventually, you would see it and be disgusted and-
"Carl? You okay?" It was his dad, at some point Rick had walked in the room, and he never realised, too busy dreading what kind of face you would make.
"He's waiting you know? He knows you're awake, Daryl has to hold him back." Rick had good intentions, trying to clear the air, lighten the mood with the mention of his boyfriend, but it did the opposite. Carl choked out a sob, tears beginning to pool as he turned his head down, hair covering up the thing that caused all his self hatred.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Do you need Denise?"
Carl couldn't manage out a response, so he just shook his head. How do you tell your own dad you never want to see your boyfriend just so you don't have to witness how digusted he gets to your mangled face?
"Come on Carl, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong. You can tell me anything, you know this."
"I don't want to see him." It's a wonder Rick could even hear Carl the way his hands muffled his voice, but he caught on why immediately.
"You worried? He won't judge you, i think he'd fight anyone who tried to even look at you the wrong way." His dad layed a hand on his head, slightly ruffling his hair before a shout broke the short silence.
"Let go of me! Why can't I go see him if he's okay‽ I don't care if I need to hurt you to get there!" Of course it was you, any time he was injured you would make sure to check on him. Like always, your voice gave him butterflies but right now he felt sick, and the self-hatred burned again.
i still think you're beautiful
It wasn't long after that you burst through the doors, panting and slightly roughed up. Clearly you put up a big fight to get to Carl, all while he's thinking of ways to never show his face again.
"Carl! You're okay!" Though it sounded more like a question, trying to reassure yourself more than him or make a statement. Even with the sound of relief in your tone he couldn't bare to look up at you.
"I'll give you two some time alone, shout if you need anything."
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier, I tried but they wouldn't let me, I hope you didn't think I was ignoring you.. I'm rambling now. Are.. are you okay Carl?"
Just the sound of how worried you were, how much you care for him broke him. He wanted to treasure this, it wouldn't last much longer and it stung. The last time he felt like this was when his mom was in labour. He couldn't even wipe his tears incase you saw his face.
And then you held him by his chin, lifting his head to meet your view before brushing the hair from over the wound.
"Don't look at me." No amount of hardening his voice could cover the choke and sadness, his face softening in your palms, his whole body was making him more pathetic when he was trying to hide it. It was useless though, he could never hide from you, every single one of his tics you knew. You cared so much it hurt.
"I still think you're beautiful." With one hand you rubbed your thumb across his cheek, making sure not to irritate the wound, and the other you wiped his tears.
"I'm not, don't lie, you're probably disgusted with me."
"I don't think anything about you could digust me, I'll let you know that every single hour if you need it. You're stuck with me now, even if you go down, I'll follow you."
and i dont ever wanna lose my best friend
Carl didn't hesitate to throw himself into your arms, almost tipping you over. You couldn't hold back a laugh at his reaction before leaving a chaste kiss on his lips with a small smile. It was only then that he realised he was exhausted like Denise told Rick he would be, the stress about your reaction apparently distracted him from it.
As he yawned, Carl pulled you back onto the bed, it was a tight squeeze but he didn't want to let you go, afraid that it would all be a dream and you'd be gone. That's how he fell asleep, practically on your lap squeezing you, before dragging you into a deep sleep with him, the comfort to strong to resist as your eyes shut.
That's how Rick found you, nobody had called him so everything should be fine, but it had been a while and as far as he could hear it was silent. Carl would have to forgive him later for coming in if they were still talking, but he needed to be sure everyone was okay. What he didnt expect was for Carl to be lying mostly on top of you, arms wrapped around eachother, the only sound being soft breathing and he smiled. Of course everything was okay.
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starlightazriel · 22 days
Text
bee 9
series desc: modern best friends > lovers (fem reader) tattoo artist az
warnings: 18+, az acting crazy and toxic haha, arguing/angst, just the beginning of the groveling, simp behavior hahaha, drug/alcohol addiction, reader struggling, heart break, time jumps, aa, depression mess, az is literally falling apart at the seams, don't expect good decisions from reader lol she's hurting that's all ima say
a/n: wow I know I ain't shit this took me so long I'm sorry angst central too ik
wc: 3.8k
other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3
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nine
"Say the word Bee, I'll knock on his door and knock him out." His jaw was tight, eyes dark with the desire to inflict pain. Real pain, sometimes that side of Azriel scared me, these days it would only make my panties wet.
"Im fine Az," I wiped tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, my chest tightened slightly at his willingness to put himself at risk for my naivety. "Hes not worth it anyway," I added, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.
"Well that youre right about. Tried to tell you he didnt deserve you," he pauses, his face looking displeased. There's a moment of silence and it made me wish I had the courage to fill it with my feelings for him. "Please stop looking so sad though. Bings will help," he smirks, trying the only way he knew how to lighten the mood, he held up his bong, already freshly packed. I sighed softly, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips despite the ache I felt in my chest.
"Yeah they might," I smirk a little bit, and take the bong from him, taking one of my little baby hits, I shove the bong back in his direction, coughing obnoxiously despite the small hit. Normally he would make fun of me, I figured he was sparing me the embarrassment in light of the current situation.
"I can kick his ass," he repeats and I just shake my head at him. I didn't doubt it either— when it came to me, Az didn't have any limits. He would go down swinging for me, no matter who it was.
Thinking back on that memory... It made me feel sick, that now he was the one to hurt me.
I had made the mistake of trusting Azriel too much. I knew better. I knew he wasn't ready for this and still I let myself live in some little fantasy world for weeks. And now... Now I was dealing with the consequences.
My heart was shattered.
Incomparable to my insignificant couple of break ups in the past... This was so much worse.
Az... My Az. Maybe not my Az after all.
He clearly couldn't even handle a relationship.
Or maybe... The alternative made my stomach sink.
Maybe he knew the entire time that he was moving and he was just passing the time until he did? Az wouldn't do that... Would he?
You can know someone forever... As soon as there are drugs involved... Well, nothing is guaranteed.
It seemed to be just as hard for me to admit that he had a problem than it was for him. I hated it, but this pain— it made me see things more clearly, see him more clearly.
I couldn't bring myself to block him. I did have to turn my phone off for a while because not picking up was just becoming hard. 39 missed face time calls, 12 missed regular calls, and a handful of text messages that I was leaving on read.
baby please just talk to me
i'm so sorry shit was so fucking stupid
please come home
bee i swear i'll come over there and drag you out of that house by your hair
you know i didnt mean that
im sorry
i need you bee, don't shut me out
just talk to me
i'll stop drinking so much i'll do whatever please just fucking talk to me
cass is a fucking idiot nothing happened i swear baby i didn't fuck anyone.
The messages were spaced out minutes between some, hours between others. I couldn't help myself when I typed out a reply to the last one.
how do you know you didn't fuck anyone? do you even remember? You were getting your fucking grind on with a random ass bottle girl. or maybe she wasn't random lol who fucking knows with you. and you had your face in tits Az. Tits. WERE TOUCHING YOUR CHEEKS. AND YOU WERE SMILING LIKE YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING SECOND. AND I BET YOU DID CUS YOU LOOKED HIGH OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND.
It was only seconds before he read it and was typing.
i didn't fuck anyone. i only want you. i'm just a dumbass. bro please do not do this shit to me. i will do ANYTHING to make this up to you that's on literally everything.
And another one.
you don't have a choice anyway and i swear if i catch you outside with any of these mother fuckers yo youre both done
And another.
its not a threat its a warning don't play with me
I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone to the side. It was all so... Exhausting. My chest quite literally hurt. And the audacity, please don't do this to him?
He did this to us.
And why the fuck did he think he owned me? I hated that it made my heart flutter— bottle girls, titties, Vegas. I reminded myself.
Sick.
I had confessed everything to my mom the first day I had came back to my parents house, which in hindsight I wished I hadn't. Knowing me... I would be back in Azriels bed within days of being back, my cheeks burned at the thought. No matter what he did, it didn't change the way I now knew how he could make me feel.
She had always loved Az, since day one... He had practically been a part of our family at one point, joining our family dinners every night, even my dad and him had a certain respect for each other. 'Some people are just better off as friends,' was my mom's response to the whole ordeal. Maybe she was right, but I didn't like it, not now.
How could we go back to that?
Was it possible to go back to that?
-
The stress, the heaviness of my heart... I couldn't stop myself from swiping a cig from my dad's secret stash in the garage. I was now sat on the rocking chair on my parent's front porch, debating on what I was going to do when I returned home. I had to go soon, it had already been weeks now I was starting to dip into my old wardrobe.
I had been commuting to class even though it was much farther than Azriel's apartment. I just didn't know what to say when I saw him. I didn't even know how to bring up the fact that I knew he was moving. Did he plan on telling me? What had been his plan for my living situation if he didnt have the apartment anymore? Had he even thought about it?
"So you're smoking now?" his voice causes me to jump, my heart nearly leaping from my chest as my head snaps to Azriel who's standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket other hand gripping a small bouquet of flowers. Scarred fingers against delicate stems, my cheeks turned pink remembering what he had done to me with those fingers. That feeling soon turned to anger remembering what he else he had done, he's frozen now, maybe half way up the stone path leading to my parents front door.
"Jesus Az what the fuck?" I breathed out, exhaling a shaky breath, my tone laced with a venom I had never used with him before. "You scared the fuck out of me, what are you even doing here?"
"You know what I'm doing here," his voice is soft but slightly strained, my stomach twists at the pain I can feel, radiating off of him. I didnt know how he did that, he was always able to change the air around me— like I was so hyper aware of him that I could sense his feelings.
"Az-"
"I love you," he cuts me off, my breath hitches, his cheeks are slightly pink, hand still shoved into his pocket. I set the burning cigarette down on the can beside me, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
So long.
I had waited to hear those words for so fucking long. And now, here, under these circumstances— it didnt feel how I imagined it would. It didnt feel how it was supposed to.
"I love you too Azriel you know I do but I-"
"But what? You dont want me because Im so fucked up right?" His voice drops slightly, his throat bobbing and I noticed his grip tighten on the bouquet in his hand. His face was soft— pained, and my heart cracked again, remembering that boy so many years ago bruised and bloody with that same heartbroken face of betrayal, and now I had done that to him. "Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry please—"
"I didn't say that," I mumbled, my heart felt like it was bleeding in my chest, like there would be nothing left once he walked away. He didn't dare to step closer. "I just- I need some time Az," I mumbled softly and he closed his eyes for a minute before tugging at his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. He looked like he would get down on his knees for me, like he would beg me if I asked him to.
"I know what that means Bee," he huffs out another small breath, his face slowly contorting into that hard cold stare I knew him to hide behind. "Anyway," he breaths out, looking away from me. "I'm going to change your mind, we—" he struggles again before giving up, I could see his eyes were bloodshot as he got closer, dark circles prominently underlining them. "Here," he finally says, he shoves the bouquet in my hand, there was an envelope taped to the side of it with my name on it.
"I'm coming home soon Az," I mumble, though, I didn't even know if I was ready for the conversation the two of us would be having. "I told you we could talk then," I add and he sighs, stepping back off of the porch.
"I'll see you soon then," he muttered softly and just shrugged his shoulders, I could tell he wanted to run to me... He wanted to wrap me in his arms and kiss me. He wanted to strangle me also— I could see that too, that deep rooted need for control, to make me see things his way. I couldn't blame him— it stemmed from years of physical abuse, traumas I would never truly be able to understand.
"Go home Az. Goodnight, thank you, for the flowers," is the last thing I say before walking back inside shutting the door behind me, in his face. I didnt watch him walk away, that short conversation had been painful enough. I put the flowers in some water and tore open the mini envelope despite how angry I was with him.... Seeing him, made me crave him so much more.
'I could lose every single thing I have in this world but I can't lose you. I miss you. Please stop shutting me out. I can't take much more of this Bee.'
His handwriting was rushed— desperate messy scrawl, guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't help it... I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet... Imagining him alone, needing me, missing me... Enough to buy flowers and scribble out a little note. More than I'd ever seen him do for any other woman.
I couldn't fall for it.
My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. Why did he have to fuck everything up? It had been so perfect. Leave it to a fucking man to ruin everything.
-
Azriel swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he stared blankly in front of him at all of the faces looking back at him. His palms were sweaty, ears hot with embarrassment and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. He had opted not to get up and stand at the front, feeling much more secure in his seat toward the back of the room.
"Hi, uh, my name is Azriel, I'm twenty five, and Im um— Im an alcoholic," it was the first time he'd ever said it out loud, it tasted horrible on his tongue. "I've um I've been addicted to drinking alcohol probably for about ten years- Got me into other- shit and I'm here today because I fell in love with my best friend and um- I don't want to lose her. Never tried to quit drinking before— never really believed I had a problem but— yeah, here I am," his voice had gotten quieter as he finished and he realized he was rambling. His cheeks burned, he hated all the eyes on him, hated that he was the center of attention. And he was craving a line, bad.
His introduction was followed by many 'Hi Azriels,' which only made him feel more uncomfortable. They tried to make him feel welcome, tried to relate to him— get him to open up. He thought he might explode but he listened though. He listened to each and every persons story that shared. And when it was over the leader gave him a small white chip, service, unity, recovery. A pledge to a new beginning, toward sobriety.
He sighed and shoved it into his pocket, he was sitting on the step now, to go coffee cup in his hand, black obviously. Isn't that what recovering alcoholics did? Drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes?
"Can I bum one?" a male voice asks and next thing he knows he's sitting down next to him, he was a bit older, maybe 40.
"Sure," he mutters and pulls a cigarette from the pack and extends it to him, he recognized him from inside the meeting.
"It's Max, if you didn't catch it in there."
"Azriel," he mumbles, looking straight ahead at the cars passing by. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to get sober. But he needed Bee. He couldn't lose her, after getting a taste? He couldn't handle not having her again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You need a sponsor?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, Azriel shrugs, the new sobriety coin felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The anxiousness... The insatiable desire to rid himself of any of his uncomfortable feelings by doing a line and buying a bottle... How the hell was he supposed to stay sane?
"You going to be my sponsor?"
"First things first, don't wear a cocaine vile around your neck to an AA meeting."
-
I was quiet, careful when I slowly pushed open the door to Azriels apartment, my apartment too, I guess. Not for long.
It didn't feel like home anymore— the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut as I took a step inside. It was quiet, he wasn't home... Fucking filthy. There was pizza boxes and take out containers, ash everywhere, multiple ash trays made from various things, there were unfinished cigs and blunts everywhere that made it smell awfully of cigarettes and stale weed. Cocaine residue and half crushed pills were out on the coffee table like it was normal. I swallowed thickly, a soft breath leaving my lips I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't feel bad that he obviously wasn't okay... But I did, I just left him. Never, never had I ever done that to Azriel. I was the one constant in his life, the one person who was always there. Ever since that day in front of my house all those years ago.
Titties, bottle girls, moving to Vegas. I reminded myself, my stomach turned again. So angry. Fucking idiot.
I entered the kitchen for a glass of water, needing something to calm that sick feeling. The bile that rose in my throat that felt like I was about to hurl everything I ate for the past three days. I thought better of it quickly, before I consumed anything from this rancid kitchen I would need to deep clean and disinfect.
Dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher hanging open half loaded still with clean dishes like he had just been taking them from there and hadn't bothered to put anything away, empty liquor bottles overflowing from the small recycling bin, more take out containers, a bong tipped over, the foul smelling water from it still dripping off of the counter, a small puddle of brownish water collected on the white tile.
What the fuck?
My room was the only room that didnt smell like bong water and cigarettes, but still, he had been in here. Maybe even slept in here. Papers covered the floor, not just papers but drawings. There were drawings of me everywhere. Just me, me naked, him and I together, kissing, fucking, our hands intertwined— there were even drawings of us when we were younger. A little messy, like he had been pressing down so hard— drawing with such emotion that he kept breaking his utensil of choice that day.
I let out a soft sob, my hand flying to cover my mouth.
Fuck.
Kat. I needed Kat.
I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat again and pulled my phone out to check her location. Of course she was at the shop.
-
"Hey," the bells chime softly as I walk into the shop, there was no one in the waiting room besides Kat and she looked up from her phone, our eyes locking.
"Heyyy baby," she greets, flashing me a smile that soon turns into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "Are you good?"
"No," I loosed a shaky breath, advancing to the counter, I leaned against it like I had so many times, but my chest was fucking aching. It was so fucking infuriating that nothing felt the same, nowhere felt the same. I guessed this was what heart break really felt like, seeing the world in every color one day and then black and white the next. "Is he here?" I dropped my voice lower, playing with one of the knick knacks on the desk to distract myself.
"No, he left a while ago, didnt say where he was going," she's still frowning, the worried look still plastered on her face.
"The house Kat?" I paused, making a face. "It's fucking disgusting, I don't understand how hes living like that," my harsh words could have only been brought on by anger, she softens, her look turning more sympathetic which annoys me only, I ignore it.
"He hasn't been the best at work either— snapping on everyone, late every day and fucked up," she lets out a small sigh, "Rhys is fucking pissed," she pulls her lip between her teeth.
"Fuck Rhys, honestly," I mutter quietly, she raises an eyebrow in response but I only ignore it. Of course, none of this was his fault, but still Vegas. Why fucking Vegas? "It's my turn to get fucked up, anyway, that's why I'm here I bought a bottle to pregame, just needed my bitch and one of her miniskirts," my words are met with a grin.
"Babes you know I got you."
-
I hadn't been drunk in a while, so to say the least I was enjoying myself. The pounding of the music, talking to strangers, dancing with Kat. I had needed all of this.
To slip out of my mind for a few hours and just let go.
Kat was definitely enjoying herself now too, and was dancing with some tall sexy man she had just met. I was keeping to myself for the most part, on the edge of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music as I surveyed the scene with a fuzzy mind.
My mouth popped open in slight surprise and when I felt curiosity instead of the desire to leave immediately, I knew I had drank too much. There was Eris, in all his jewelry and expensive clothes, looking poised and composed as always. Long pale ringed fingers wrapped around a glass of amber liquid. I hadn't seen him since the night we shared.
"You ghosted me princess."
"I had other things going on— and I didnt finish," I smile boredly, not meeting his gaze, it must have been the liquor making me so bold, he scoffs slightly his eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Let me buy you a drink then, to make up for it, must have been an off day for me," he inquires, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that my body was basically broken with anyone except for Azriel, I would let him believe it was his fault. His ego could be taken down a peg, anyway.
"I have one already," I raise it up slightly, smirking as I swirl the liquid around in the cup.
"Not anymore," in a swift motion he takes the glass from my hand and dumps the drink in a near by plant, a fake plant. I squeaked, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed it.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's fake and you just filled it with liquor and juice! Have you even heard of a fruit fly?" I demanded, swaying a bit on my feet, liquor buzzing through my veins. If anyone did that at my bar, I scoffed slightly at the thought staring him down judgmentally for his utter carelessness.
"It's fake, so the liquor won't kill it," he flashed me his insufferable sexy grin before adding "there's wins and losses to every decision we make," his eyes flashed and I stopped for a moment, weighing those words.
No, I can't get caught up in this. I had to figure out what was going on with Azriel and I. "And now you don't have a drink and I get to buy you one, so I win, Im not really concerned nor do I care about any of the losses. Besides, I only ever come here looking for you, so I don't care if they get fruit flies." That cocky smirk he wore, the way he carried himself... He did look good. That piercing gaze, the confidence that radiated off of him along with his expensive dizzying cologne.
I remembered what Az had said about him 'theres a lot of people that would kill him in this city' hearing his words echo in my head, knowing how much he hated that I'd been with Eris... I swallowed, my cheeks turning pink.
Az didnt care when he was fucked up, when he was smushing his face between those two bottle girls titties he didnt think about me at home— waiting for him.
So I wouldn't care now.
I didnt think about him, I didnt think about what it would do to him when I wrapped my fingers up into Eris expensive shirt and yanked his tall frame down to me.
"Wins and losses you say?" I whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips.
-
a/n: cliffhangerrr only time and comments will tell if yalll are mad about this drama HAHA sorry I had to drag the groveling out into multiple parts Az WILL be on his KNEES in the near future
taglist <3: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies
IF ANYONES TAG DIDNT WORK IM SO SORRY
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borathae · 7 months
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↳ Full Art
"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."
Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut
Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3
Wordcount: 2.5k
a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs
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The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips. 
You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.
He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there. 
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly. 
He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.
You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.
What made him so goddamn needy? 
One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.
What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage? 
What did it to him?
“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.
Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.
Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.
“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.
He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.
“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.
“Help me.” 
You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.
“Sorry?” 
“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you. 
“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.
He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.
You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes. 
Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.
He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.
He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours. 
“I was bad”, he breathes.
“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.
“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”
“Fuck, Yoongi.”
“Punish me.” 
“Punish you?” 
“Please.”
You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters. 
Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.
“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.
He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.” 
“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”
“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.
“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.
He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.
You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.
Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze. 
“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.
He is tender there. Just as you said.
And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.
You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.
“Look at me.”
Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.
“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”
He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”
“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.
Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.
“No, no look at me.”
Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.
“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”
“I have to cum”, he moans.
“Cause you’re looking at me?”
He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”
“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.
“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”
“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”
“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.
“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.
“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist. 
It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”
“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.” 
“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits. 
“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.” 
“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.
“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.
“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”
Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process. 
He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough. 
“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you. 
“One more, kitten. Give me one more.” 
“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.
You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.
“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.
“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.
You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before. 
“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time. 
Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.
“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back. 
He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing. 
He is so pretty. 
“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time. 
“Yours”, he croaks.
“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”
“You’re making me cum.” 
“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”
“Knee. Please.” 
You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.
He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.
“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.
Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.
“No more.”
You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.
“Stop.”
You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.
“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.
“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.
“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.
You hug him back, tracing his spine.
“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.
He nods his head slowly, humming. 
“Yeah? Was it good for you?” 
“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”
“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”
He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”
You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”
Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.
“I love you so much”, he mumbles.
“I love you too.”
“I actually wanna lie down though.”
You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.
“And ear rubs.”
“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”
“Good. Nice.”
“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.
He nods his head, “hm.”
“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.” 
Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.
489 notes · View notes
poisonlove · 6 months
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We can't be friends | w.a
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Request @ortegalvr
Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Warning: Fluffy, Sad
Belladonna
The belladonna plant, also known as Atropa belladonna, is notorious for being poisonous, but some of its chemicals can be used in medicine to treat certain conditions, as in traditional medicine. However, its use requires extreme caution and medical supervision due to its toxicity.
I scrunch up my nose and look at the words in our herbology book with confusion. I had to do thorough research on poisonous plants and any potential benefits they might bring, so I decided to take advantage of this research time at the Weathervane.
"Here's your macchiato," I raise my head from the book and see the barista. The brown-eyed, curly-haired guy gives me a small smile. "Thank you," I return the smile and notice him walking back to the counter, wiping some cups.
I sigh audibly and sip the coffee, closing my eyes to the delicious flavor. It wasn't Italian, but it was still good, less watery than I imagined. I lick my lower lip and return my eyes to my notes, tapping the pen on the paper, thinking of some other poisonous plant.
I needed to get a good grade.
The sound of the bell in the shop marks someone's arrival, and I look up curiously, seeing a familiar figure. A sensation of chill runs through my body, my heart pounding frantically against my chest.
I couldn't move.
Wednesday Addams was accompanied by a girl, a blonde with colorful highlights. The blonde was smiling broadly and chatting with the brunette, who was looking at her with her usual apathetic gaze. Wednesday was wearing an all-black school uniform, her unmistakable braids hanging over her shoulders.
Her eyes flick in my direction, and I feel my shoulders slump, my eyes softening as I look at Wednesday after so many years. Wednesday seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't show it. Her posture remained perfect, no hint of shock or surprise, just her eyes staring into mine as if trying to read something in them.
The blonde, noticing where Wednesday was looking, leans towards her, probably asking who I was, interrupting the staring contest that had developed between me and her. "I didn't know you knew anyone here in Jericho," is the only thing I manage to catch from their dialogue, and I lower my head to the table, playing with my hands.
It was a habit I had when I was nervous and embarrassed, which was plausible considering it's been years since I've seen little Addams. "Wed, are you okay?" the blonde asks again, two tables away from me. I purse my lips, feeling bitterness in my mouth at the nickname she gave her.
Wed? Now you're letting her call you by my nickname? I thought bitterly.
I sigh audibly and turn my attention back to my assignment, trying to ignore the conversations between the blonde and Wednesday, even though the latter barely spoke. I unconsciously smile, knowing it was just like her to behave this way.
Let's say that every time we went out together, I was the one who talked the most of the two, the brunette just looked at me without blinking, her deer-like eyes watching me with curiosity as I talked and talked. It made me smile and shiver at the same time to be watched with such intensity, but Wednesday loved listening to me talk, she always said she liked my voice
Oleander... Poison... Wednesday.
I knew perfectly well that Wednesday loved this kind of thing, studying every kind of weapon or poisonous plant, a passion her mother passed on to her. But this connection came to mind only now seeing Addams' figure.
I raise my gaze, unconsciously looking at the girl who was my downfall, the love of my life... A girl I still think could be mine. I see her talking to the blonde, smiling shyly, almost imperceptibly at her words.
Apparently, she can understand you, right?
Because I'm different from her, right?
"No! You can't understand! I don't want to hurt you," Wednesday's voice suddenly rises, looking at me seriously.
"But..." I start, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.Wednesday turns her back on me and walks towards the entrance of my room, her hand on the doorknob, her back rigid.
"We can't keep seeing each other, I don't want to see you anymore," her voice lowers again, a cold chill creeping into my bones.
"You're leaving me?" I whisper, looking at the brunette in disbelief. Wednesday doesn't even hint at turning around, her shoulders slumping as she opens the door.
"Wed," I say timidly, my voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. Addams tightly grips the doorknob, her posture still perfect.
"Don't be pathetic, y/n... You're smarter than this," she says with such coldness that it leaves me stunned. After this sentence, Wednesday walks through the door of my room, leaving my house and my life.
It's been 3 years since that moment, and I still shiver at the memory.
I clench my jaw tightly, trying to suppress the anger and pain I still feel, as I delve into my assignment, trying to find comfort in the pages of the book.
"What do you want to order, Wed?" asks a high-pitched voice. I look at the paper while waiting for her rather obvious response.
"Iced espresso," Wednesday replies neutrally.
Her favorite, I know.
Apparently, she still liked the coffee I made her try at my house during our first study project.
Umm... What can I offer you?" I ask nervously as I watch the brunette marveling around my kitchen. Wednesday touches my microwave and looks at it closely.
"What do you have?" she asks spontaneously, her voice small but determined.
"I asked you for a reason, don't you think?" I chuckle timidly, smiling at Addams' strangeness. Wednesday didn't seem like a very... Simple girl, indeed, she had a morbid sense of humor and a loyalty to the color black.
Wednesday gazes into my eyes, making me blush at their intensity. Black eyes stare into mine without blinking, whether curious or annoyed, I still don't know.
"What's that?" she points to the coffee machine, and I blink incredulously.
"You really don't know what it is?" I ask in surprise, and she tilts her head sideways, analyzing me with her gaze.
"It's a coffee machine... Do you want to try my family's famous iced espresso?" I ask proudly, my eyes lighting up with excitement.
The corners of Addams' mouth lift, and she timidly nods her head.
I shake my head and try to focus, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek before falling onto the book. I clench my jaw and try not to cry. Focus on the task.
Don't be weak, don't be pathetic
"Enid, can you hurry up and finish the frappé? It's almost writing time," Wednesday asks with a hint of irritation, earning a glare from what I now know is called Enid.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch their interaction, Wednesday's black eyes pointing towards my direction again. I look away towards her features: high cheekbones, full lips, a stoic but incredibly attractive gaze. Wednesday remains motionless, staring at me, and I surrender to her gaze, starting to pack up my things to put them in my backpack.
The memory of our first date...
We were in the dark room of Wednesday's house, enveloped by the tense and mysterious atmosphere of a horror movie playing on the big screen. Sitting on the couch, I was completely immersed in the plot, but every now and then a shiver of terror would make me jump.
I felt the tension building inside me as the scenes became increasingly eerie. My hands were clenched into fists on my knees, and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might burst from my chest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.
Suddenly, a particularly scary scene materialized on the screen, and I couldn't hold back a small scream of terror. Without hesitation, Wednesday grabbed my hand firmly, surprising me with her quick action.
The touch of her hand on mine made me jump, but immediately I felt a sense of calm spreading inside me. Her fingers were cold, but the grip was comforting, as if she wanted to protect me from the terror surrounding usI looked at Wednesday with gratitude, finding comfort in her dark and deep eyes.
She didn't say a word, but her simple gesture spoke more than a thousand words. In that moment, I understood that I wasn't alone, that she was there with me, ready to support me.
So, with Wednesday's hand in mine, I faced the rest of the movie with a renewed sense of courage, knowing that no matter how terrifying it was, I could overcome it with her by my side.
Our first kiss, which happened later that evening.
Wednesday and I locked eyes, a silence filled with tension and emotion enveloping the room.
Our gaze met, and I could sense the same uncertainty I felt.Then, slowly, Wednesday leaned towards me, her eyes fixed on mine with intensity. My heart was pounding so hard I feared it might burst, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.
Her lips brushed against mine cautiously, as if she was afraid of hurting me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my face, and a shiver ran down my spine as I leaned in closer to her. Our first kiss was a moment of pure enchantment, a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions.
Wednesday's lips were soft and warm against mine, and the contact was so intense that for a moment it seemed like the world around us stopped.
An onslaught of memories overwhelms me, making me feel vulnerable. My heart breaks at the memories of what we were, of what we shared.
I feel like that flood of memories could easily drive me to madness, but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire. I just want to let this story die, and I'll be alright.
"Shit," I whisper, clenching my jaw tightly.
I stand up from the chair, and the cup near me falls to the ground, attracting the attention of the others. Tyler, the barista, walks over to me and crouches down to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say with concern. "It's okay, accidents happen," he says, smiling kindly.
My eyes glance at Wednesday, and I see her turn her head upon hearing the noise. The blonde next to her continues to drink her frappé, unfazed by the events. Wednesday keeps looking at me in a strange way, her eyes... Glassy. They're kind. Her body invites me to approach and I freeze at the thought of standing just a few steps away from her, face to face.
Maybe she wants to talk and sort things out?
Be friends?
I purse my lips and break the eye contact between us. I grab the backpack with my assignments inside and look at Tyler with concern, who smiles broadly at me.
I give him a small smile and leave the shop, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
We can't be friends, there are too many feelings.
But I'd like to just pretend, maybe one day not too far away I'll be able to.
But a part of me... Wait until you like me again.
525 notes · View notes
hederasgarden · 13 days
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Something Better
Summary: A chance encounter with your academic rival reminds you there's more to life than looks. Pairing: Scott Miller (Twisters) x F!Plus Size!Reader Word Count: 1.4K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. College AU. Light angst, body insecurity, heavy petting and kissing.  A/N: For my dearest @clairewritesandrambles based on this ask. Thank you @ryebecca for the beta. Turns out I'm terrible at sticking to the 100 word prompts. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
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Masterlist ♡ David Corenswet Characters Masterlist
It’s a struggle to escape the press of bodies on the dance floor, the pounding bass thrumming uncomfortably in your chest. You wipe angrily at your face, jaw clenched as you fight to keep the tears at bay. No one seems to notice — everyone is too drunk or high. You could find your friends, but beneath the desire for comfort is the sharp, burning sting of shame. 
You should have known better than to trust Tyler Owens. 
All those sweet words and flirtatious smiles were meaningless to him. In the end, you were just another notch in his belt and the worst part is, that you have no one to blame but yourself. Everyone knew he wasn’t the type for commitment, but you were blinded by his charm and the way his deep green eyes made you feel beautiful. He said you were special and you were just stupid enough to believe him.
Escaping into the cool night air brings you a brief moment of relief. You close your eyes and tilt your head back. 
"Where’s the cowboy?"
The unexpected voice makes you flinch. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Only one person ever called Tyler Owens a cowboy.
"Not now, Scott." 
Usually, you didn’t mind going toe-to-toe with him, enjoying the opportunity to match wits with someone as sharp as Scott. Tonight, though, you’re exhausted, and he’s the last person you want to show any weakness to. In class, he was quick to exploit any hint of vulnerability in an opponent.
"Is that all you’ve got?" he taunts. "Spending time with Owens must have really lowered your IQ."
You bite your tongue, curling your hand into a fist. You can’t handle this right now. You can't handle him.
"Just...go away." Despite your best efforts, your voice betrays how you feel — strained and fragile.
He doesn’t listen, of course, the gravel crunching under his feet as he approaches. Your shoulders slump, and a fresh wave of tears escapes. You stare at the ground and wait for the cutting remark Scott's sure to deliver when he sees you like this. When nothing comes, you hesitantly look up, meeting his cool blue gaze. You’re surprised to see a soft furrow between his brows. He almost looks…concerned.
"You're crying." 
It's such an obvious statement from him that you laugh, but it comes out more as a sob and you press the back of your hand to your mouth. Scott steps forward, making an abortive gesture like he means to touch you but thought better of it. He looks past you, the soft curve of his lips tightening into a sharp, displeased line. Then his gaze cuts back to you. 
"Did Tyler do something?" He asks. 
You shake your head. The truth is, you hurt yourself by thinking someone like Tyler would ever want to date you. Why would he, when he had Kate Carter on his arm? She looked beautiful tonight, her honey blond hair curling softly around her delicate features. She was slender and striking in a way you'd never be. She’d be easy to hate if she wasn't so kind and smart.
"He did something," Scott presses.
Just then, the door swings open, and a group of people spills out into the night. A few of them look over, and you’re quick to turn away, hunching your shoulders in embarrassment. It’s bad enough that Scott saw you like this; you don’t need anyone else witnessing it.
Beside you, Scott lets out a sharp huff, his breath escaping through his nose in a rush. Without a word, he grabs you, his long fingers wrapping firmly around your bicep. He pulls you effortlessly to the side of the building, out of view. 
“Sometime happened. You never shut up, and now you’re just…” He trails off, using his free hand to gesture irritably.
You shrug out of his hold and wrap an arm around your middle. You try to steady your voice, but it quivers when you whisper, "It's nothing."  
“Oh, I see,” he responds coolly. “You think you’re better than everyone now because you’re dating the star football player.”
Scott’s accusation is so far off the mark it’s almost laughable, and on any other day, you’d relish the chance to set him straight. But right now, all you want is to disappear.
“Typical,” he mutters. 
A sudden burst of anger flares under your ribcage and you surge forward, jabbing a finger hard into his chest. You’re so close your body brushes his but you don’t care. 
“You want to know what happened?” you ask. “We slept together, but the second someone skinnier and prettier showed up, he acted like I didn’t even exist. And honestly, I can’t even blame him," you continue with a bitter laugh. "Just look at Kate Carter.”
As soon as the words are out of your mouth and you realize what you’ve just admitted, you shrink back against the brick wall, feeling exposed. Scott rolls his eyes, and you tense up, bracing yourself for whatever he is about to say. 
"Kate Carter isn't as smart as us," he says dismissively. "She's a fucking bio major. You think she even took differential equations?”
Of course he didn’t get it. People like Scott and Tyler moved through the world differently than you. “No one’s looking at her transcript  She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, and so are you.”
You freeze and the unexpected compliment hangs in the air between you as you search his expression for any trace of sarcasm. Scott stares steadily back at you and something in your stomach flutters to life, sweeping up your chest in a hot rush. 
“Scott…”
“Don’t make this a thing,” he says quietly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not a thing.”
He dips his head and then suddenly, he’s kissing you, those soft, plump lips of his sliding against yours almost sweetly. You clutch the front of his sweater, tilting your head back until your nose brushes against his. A quiet moan builds at the back of your throat and Scott surges forward, caging you in between his body and the wall. The rough brick catches against the soft skin of your shoulder but you don’t care, not with the way he’s kissing you.
“Gonna let me in?” he whispers.
Without hesitation, you part your lips, welcoming him into the wet heat of your mouth. He groans in response, grasping your hips. He kisses just like he argues with you in the classroom — relentless in his pursuit, overwhelming you in the best way possible until you yield. This time you want him to win, but you can’t resist trying to outdo him. You draw his lower lip between your teeth and bite down until he grunts.
“Fuck,” he pants, his hands sweeping up and down your sides. 
You cant your hips forward and he grabs the back of your thigh, grinding into you.
“I’m going to take you home,” he promises, mouthing at the side of your neck. "Then I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name.”
You shudder, freeing one of your hands trapped between your bodies and burying it in his thick black curls. A light tug has him nipping at the soft skin of your throat. Everything about him feels so good. It would be easy to lose yourself to this, to him, but you pull back, blinking away the haze of lust. You refuse to repeat your mistake with Tyler. 
“What happens after?” You ask him, breathless. 
Scott blinks, running his tongue over his swollen bottom lip. “After?”
“After we, you know….” That little shadow appears between his brows again. You shift uncomfortably, drawing back. “With Tyler…after, he—”
“We date,” Scott interrupts.
Maybe it’s the kiss or the whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced tonight, but for the first time, you're at a loss for words with Scott.
“Date?” You repeat dumbly.
“Yes.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing. “Do you require the definition of the word?” He looks half annoyed now, staring down his nose at you. “If you can’t keep up, I’m not sure we can do this.”
“Do what?” 
“Date,” he replies tersely. “You know, you’re killing the mood here.”
“Well,” you sputter, “it’s not my fault you’re a poor communicator.”
Scott rolls his eyes. “This was better when we weren’t talking.”
“Agreed,” you fire back.
“So it’s settled.”
When you nod, Scott grasps your hand and tugs you forward. His long legs make it difficult to keep up but after a few seconds, he seems to notice and adjusts his pace to match yours. He casts a brief glance at you and you see a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if his lips were about to part but he thought better of it. 
“What?” You ask, amused.
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” you agree. “Just as long as you’re not making this a thing.”
Scott lets out a small, exasperated sigh and turns away, but not before you catch the smile tugging at his lips.
Send me a request
252 notes · View notes
ioveaether · 4 months
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cw: gn!reader; reader has anger issues; char and reader are best friends, but is implied that they're crushing on each other
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It wasn't the first time of you ending up in cries and hiccups, just because you got angry at someone. And definitely it won't be the last as well.
This time it was with your parents. You just wanted to have a normal conversation with them, but ended up getting way too emotional and walking away angry, with tears running down your cheeks.
"Why are you crying now? We didn't even say anything mean."
"We didn't mean to make you cry..."
It wasn't people's fault that you get angry so easily. You always try to control yourself, to explain to people what you mean, but always end up yelling in frustration and then regret it at the end. Sometimes this anger even comes out in tears, making people think that they made you cry...
You hated it. You hated yourself for that. You hated how you lose your temper so easily. You hated how some people even think that you're not trying to control yourself. You just hated it.
"Hey, is everything okay?" A familiar voice said from behind.
You froze in place, before you sniffed slightly and wiped away your tears. "I'm fine." You answered, still not turning to face your best friend.
"It doesn't sound like that." He said back, concern obvious in his voice. "What happened?"
You stood quiet, not even daring to utter a word out, thinking that it'll come out in a shaky voice. You were even trying to hold back your hiccups, but failing miserably.
"C'mon, at least let me see your face." He said in a calm tone, now slowly approaching your form, before he sat down next to you.
"Did you get into another fight with someone?" He asked softly, his eyes finally seeing how red your face was from all the crying. His heart basically shattered at the view in front of him.
"I didn't fight anyone." You answered back, sniffing slightly. "I just..." Tears threatened to come out again, but you quickly wiped them away. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down your nerves, before you spoke. "I just got angry at my parents again.... For nothing."
"I-i didn't want to get angry at them. I just... wanted to have a normal chat with them about something, a-and i don't know what happened-" And the hiccups came back, the tears already falling down your cheeks. "I-i got super emotional at some point. I got angry, i started crying from anger and just walked away, so i can calm my nerves down."
He listened to your shaky voice, his hand slowly reaching to hold yours, to comfort you in some way.
He knew how easily you lose your temper. And he knew how you always try to control yourself, even if sometimes it was just too much. He was proud of you for at least trying, and he always told you that he'll be there to help with whatever he can.
"I hate myself. I hate how easily i get angry at people. I want that anger to be gone in some way." You confessed, squeezing his hand tightly. "I don't want to make people think they're at fault for me losing my temper. Especially people i care about."
"I even think that some people hate me, because of-"
"Okay, i'll stop you right here." He said suddenly, cutting you off. You looked up at him with a confused look, waiting for him to continue.
"No one hates you, because of your short temper, that's just your negative thoughts getting to you. And if there are people who actually hate you because of that, well fuck them! They don't know what you're going though, just to throw disrespectful comments towards you." He said in a serious tone. His hand squeezed yours, as he continued. "And i'm sure you're trying your hardest to control yourself. I've seen you. How you always clench your fists, bite your lips, pick on your nails and so many other things, holding yourself back to not explode in frustration... And i'm proud of you."
He gave you a soft smile, his free hand coming and ruffling your hair.
"Hey!" You let out a small whine, and soon giggles came out of your mouth. "Thank you..." You smiled up at him, before you plopped your head against his shoulder. "It means a lot coming from you."
"Of course. And like i said before, i'm always here to help however i can." He answered, his arms wrapping around you in a soft embrace.
You wrapped your arms around his form, burying yourself closer in the warm hug. He always had such an effect on you. Making you smile and laugh in just mere seconds. You didn't know why he was the one to make you feel like that, but you hoped it'll stay like that forever. Him being your comfort person till the end.
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© ioveaether
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