#but they had been skirting around each other and NEVER admitted it. never told each other!

[burningembers91]

A Helping Hand - Jang Dong-Soo x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Tattoos and Scars

Synopsis: When Jang Dong-Soo sees you struggling while running errands, he can’t help but come to your aid

It was rare that Jang Dong-Soo had a day off. A day without meetings, or deadlines came only once in a blue moon, and he never liked to waste a free day. He would argue until the day he died that the life of a gangster was harder than any other profession. He had to be a boss, an accountant, a teacher, a businessman and a security guard all rolled into one and sometimes he craved the mundane domesticity that came with errands.

He’d taken his suits to the dry cleaners, picked up some groceries and a nice bottle of wine, and been to the bank. He was planning a quiet night in, with some good, hearty comfort food and maybe a movie.

Dong-Soo wondered what you were doing today, whether you were working, or whether you were somewhere in the city, running errands too. He hadn’t seen you for a while, had somehow mercifully escaped knife wounds and fist fights for the last few months. He missed seeing you, so much so that he was seriously considering picking a fight just so he could land himself back in your hospital room. He missed the sound of your laugh, the smell of your perfume, the way you chastised him for getting into so many accidents. He wondered what you looked like when you weren’t wearing your scrubs, wondered whether your jeans, skirts and dresses hugged the delicate contours of your body.

Dong-Soo was desperate for physical touch, to feel the soft skin of a woman against his. He’d thought about going out and finding someone to occupy his interests for the night, but no one could captivate him quite like you could.

He was heading out of the bank when he saw you, ladened down with bags of groceries, your face flushed with the effort. You were wearing tight black leggings, and a simple green hoodie, but to Dong-Soo you’d never looked better. He’d told himself time and time again that he couldn’t get involved with you, that he couldn’t start something he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. But he couldn’t leave you to struggle, not when you’d helped him so much in the past.

“Let me,” he said, taking the bags from your hands. You hadn’t noticed him watching you, hadn’t sensed his presence until he was prying your shopping from your aching fingers.

You jumped, but you were grateful for the assistance, your upper body strength comparable to a soggy noodle. You were dreading having to carry those bags all the way home, and yet your favourite patient had appeared like your knight in a custom Versace suit.

“Jang Dong-Soo,” you smiled, massaging your aching palms. “Long time no see. Have you been staying out of trouble? Or have you found a new favourite nurse?”

He snorted at your joke; as if anyone could ever replace you. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, your forehead beaded in sweat with the exertion of carrying your weekly shop.

“Let me take these to your car,” he said, not willing to let you leave him just yet. This was the first time he’d seen you outside of the hospital, and we was keen to keep you to himself for a little longer.

“Oh,” you smiled sheepishly, “I’m not in my car today… I’m taking the bus.”

“Where’s your car?” Dong-Soo didn’t like the idea of you getting on public transport. He knew all too well the creeps that lurked on buses and subways, waiting for innocent, unsuspecting women. He wouldn’t be letting you take the bus, not while he was around.

“It’s… it’s at the junkyard,” you confessed. “Waiting to be turned into scrap and spare parts. It was on its last legs and finally died a few days ago.”

You didn’t want to admit that you couldn’t afford a new car, that your rent, bills and university debt took up the majority of your pay check each month.

“I’ll drive you home,” Dong-Soo insisted, not waiting for a response before he set off down the road. You had to jog to keep up with his hulking frame, his large, muscular arms carrying the bags as if they weighed nothing. You knew you should stop him, knew you should tell him you were happy to take the bus. As a medical professional, you were supposed to keep your relationship with your patients strictly within hospital walls, but there was something about the burly gangster that you couldn’t resist. You knew he was dangerous, knew the injuries he inflicted and received were no accident, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You found yourself sliding into the passenger seat of his car, giving him your address as his thick fingers punched it into his GPS. You were sure you’d live to regret this, but the man sitting next to you was such a mystery, and you were dying to find out his secrets.

You didn’t talk much as he weaved in and out of traffic, his expensive cologne enveloping you in a heady scent. You could feel the tension in the air, couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from his bear-like frame. You wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel to have him pick you up and throw you down on your bed. You wondered how it would feel to have his large, calloused hands trail down over your breasts, waist and hips.

When he pulled up outside your apartment, you didn’t want to get out of the car. You wanted to bask in his intimidating presence for just a moment longer.

“Can I help you upstairs with the bags?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. Now that he’d spent that short car journey with you, the idea of going back to his apartment alone was beginning to feel less appealing.

“Yes, please,” you nodded, hoping you’d remembered to tidy the small space up enough. The elevator was a snug fit for the both of you, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. You could feel the heat of his body radiating against you, could see the rise and fall of his expansive chest with each breath he took.

Dong-Soo didn’t know what he’d expected to find in your apartment, but the small, cozy space was more than he’d bargained for. It was tastefully decorated, with books lining every available surface. You had a record player pride of place on your coffee table, and a stack of vinyls that could have been plucked straight from his own shelves. You had several pieces of artwork arranged on the walls, the artists unknown to him, but the pieces were ones that spoke to him. He could tell just by looking around the tiny space that you had every potential to be the woman of his dreams.

He gently placed the bags down for you, clearing his throat as his heart and head waged war against each other. He knew he should go, but he so desperately wanted to ask you to dinner. He wanted to find out more about you, wanted to see just how similar your interests were. But his desire to protect you kept him from taking things further, his need to keep you from the dangerous life he led overriding his desire to be with you.

“I should go,” he mumbled, not stopping to hear you say goodbye. He needed to be far away from you, needed to rid you from his thoughts before he did something he couldn’t take back.

The entire car journey home, he’d thought of nothing but kissing you, of pulling you into the back seats and making love to you on the soft leather seats. He was is in way over his head, fighting a battle his couldn’t win. He’d need to find a new nurse, someone he didn’t spend every waking hour thinking about.

His life was too dangerous for you, and he couldn’t allow his carnal desires to overtake his senses.

As he drove away, he decided it would be the last time he saw you. The next time he needed medical assistance, he’d go to a new hospital, one where you didn’t work. He would erase your address from his GPS, would forget the way your legs and ass looked in your skin tight leggings.

Yes, Dong-Soo was hopelessly in lust with you. But he’d have to push those feelings down, would have to forget about the one woman he could see himself building a life with.

He’d need to forget about you, in order to keep you safe from the very men who sent him so frequently to your hospital.

[valeriianz]

Hiii @embroiderling here. For the way you said I love you, can I ask for 31? Or 27. Or 25 😂 all the options are so good 💖

Thank youuuu

Helloooo! So nice to see you after so long! haha 31: In awe, the first time you realised it also, reincarnation au :D

---------------

“I love you.”

The stranger looks twice at Hob, a beautiful expression of bafflement making his eyes pop.

Hob blinks, the words coming back to him.

“Sorry,” Hob laughs, breathless. He feels a flush growing up his neck. “That just– came out of me. I don’t– here–” Hob scrambles to get his feet flat on the ground and heft himself up halfway, extending a hand to the man he’d crashed into… who looks achingly familiar.

The man, who Hob takes in properly now, hesitantly takes Hob’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up from the ground, standing now on unsteady legs. They carefully walk out of the bike lane and onto the slightly congested sidewalk. Hob realizes he doesn’t have his scooter until his hand shoots out to catch the thin, gorgeous man, by the elbow as he wobbles a bit.

“Careful.” Hob offers a smile but it feels broken. “You okay?”

The man looks up from the point where they are touching, back to Hob, absolute shock and something like recognition glinting in his eyes.

Hob’s breath catches when he sees that the man is crying. Beautiful blue eyes shine and overflow down pale skin and strikingly sharp cheekbones.

“What’s wrong?” Hob’s grip tightens slightly on the man’s arm while the other hovers between them.

“I don’t know…” The man finally speaks with a voice that sounds like heaven. His fingers shake as he wipes away the tears on his face. “I just feel like…”

His low vibrato cracks as he looks back at Hob.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity to hear you say that.”

Hob’s jaw drops and his heart soars.

“What’s your name?”

“Dream.”

Hob huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

“It’s– It’s so crazy. I knew that.” Hob laughs properly now at the smile that tugs up the corner of Dream’s lips. “Do you know me? What’s my name?”

Dream’s brows pinch together as he seems to study Hob.

“... Hob.”

The smile that cracks through Dream’s composure is enough to send pin pricks up Hob’s spine, tickling the back of his neck, not to mention how incredibly strange and yet familiar this all seems. Like he’d looked at those crystal blue eyes a hundred times, in a hundred different lifetimes, a hundred different emotions reflected in them.

Then Dream laughs. A bark of laughter that he immediately covers with his hand and finally, for the first time since Hob spoke to him, looking away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“What’s so funny?” Hob’s smiling so wide he feels his eyes squint.

“I don’t know!” Dream nearly screeches, his visage morphing through something like the five stages of grief before smiling again.

“But…” Dream manages to get himself under control, looking around at the people walking past them, the buildings towering over them, and back to Hob. “It’s a very strange name.”

It feels like an excuse, or some explanation that at least makes sense.

“I love your laugh,” Hob blurts out, feeling more present, all the sudden.

Dream sighs, his body relaxing, like he’s committed to whatever is happening… acquiescing to it. 

“I know you do.”

Hob grins. This is insane.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

Dream’s breath seems to catch, his eyes flicking up and down.

“I feel like you owe me a lot more than dinner.”

Hob laughs again, emotion welling on inside his throat and making his own eyes begin to burn.

“I’m going to make it up to you. God. What is happening right now?”

Dream merely shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and looking around them.

“Are you free tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Hob nods, excitement– like a child, rushes through his veins.

“Let’s meet here,” Dream points to the ground. “... again, if you’re serious.”

Hob nods again. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” Dream takes a long breath, his eyes seem to burn, instantly watching Hob. “I will see you again.”

An unconscious grin splits across Hob’s face.

“You will.”

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.2 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has a third part! summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

Your widened eyes stared at the text until the screen of your phone locked again due to lack of activity.

You couldn't believe you had been so stupid as to send without checking the contact beforehand! You cursed your slippery fingers, and the fact that their names started with "J". Thankfully you didn't mention any names in the text, or else you'd probably have to drop out and move elsewhere...

Once the embarrassment had washed away ever so slightly, you let his words sink in - "but for the record, it looks good". You gripped your skirt and pressed your thighs together as you imagined the man leaning closely and whispering that in your ear, telling you just how good you looked.

Another dilemma popped into your mind - now that he knew you thought it was slutty, should you really go out in it!? On one hand, Bucky told you it looked good, but on the other you'd basically admitted to knowing too much showed in that outfit...

The sound of a car honking outside broke you from your trance, and you walked over to your bedroom's window to find your ride already waiting for you. You muttered a small "fuck" under your breath gathered all of your things and stuffed them in a bag before taking one last look at the mirror.

"Oh, whatever, can't get worse than it already is." You said to yourself, grabbed a large jersey and threw it on top of the cheerleader outfit you decided to wear.

You sprayed some perfume and left the house, with your heart wanting to find Bucky right away, and your mind wanting him to stay as far as possible.

You all rode in the same car in direction to Andy's house, which meant that at least you wouldn't be alone with Bucky yet again - that alone calmed you down quite a bit. The ride was loud and full of music, but you couldn't stop thinking about your little (big) mistake.

Your friends noticed, but as far as they were aware, you had a thing for Andy, so they just brushed it off as being nervous to be around him or something of the sort.

Fortunately, Andy was the one opening the door this time, and he greeted everyone with a big, adorable smile that would have made you fall to your knees just a couple weeks ago.

"Guys, I need your help carrying the beer cases, the ice and the thermal boxes. Y/N can you and Jas go to the garage and bring the boxes? There's four of them, they're empty so you should be alright bringing two each."

You and the other girl nodded, following his instructions as to how to get to the garage. Once you got there, however, the boxes were nowhere to be seen.

"Can you go ask him where they are, Jas? I'll keep looking."

Your friend nodded and turned around, leaving you alone to look for the boxes by yourself. You tried not to make too much of a mess while searching for them, but you had looked as hard as possible without moving anything, and yet you had no luck finding what you were looking for.

"What happened to that little number I saw?"

You jumped and shrieked at the deep voice behind you. When you turned around you saw those steel blue eyes looking down at you, with a little knowing smile.

There was no point in playing dumb, you both knew what he was talking about. His eyes flew down to your hands that played with the hem of your jersey.

You felt so small under his gaze... You had never felt like this with any other guy - sure, you had been shy before, but when it came to Bucky it was like the words were caught on your throat and your whole body caught on fire. Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was the confidence and power in the way he conducted himself - the image of a man who wasn't, for once, all bark and no bite.

He stepped forward, reaching right beside you to claim the beer he had left open on the counter that you were leaning against.

"Decided against my advice?" He took a swing of his beer, the playful, devilish smile on his face spreading wider "Andy would've liked it."

He was teasing you. He knew you were embarrassed and he was using it against you, for amusement.

"Why? Did you like it?"

The both of you were shocked at the words that left your lips - you didn't know where those words came from and Mr. Barnes wasn't waiting for something so bold to come out of you.

He chuckled and his eyes suddenly seemed to be darker, but that darkness wasn't the lack of emotion you had seen that day at the store, it was a different type... there was something sensual about his gaze rather.

"Maybe I did."

The two of you heard footsteps heading towards you. Bucky stepped away from you and faced the door just as your friend came in.

"Andy said that his dad already- oh, hello Mr. Barnes!"

"Hi there. Can I help you?" He asked Jas.

Bucky acted as if nothing had happened, as if he and you had just been having a casual conversation, as if the air was thick and tense from the sexual tension burning between your bodies.

"Andy told me and Y/N to fetch the thermal boxes, but he didn't know you had brought them out already." She explained.

"I see. Well, have fun girls." He said, looking between you and her, as you walked towards the door to leave with your friend.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind, a little bit of revenge for what he had just done to you. You needed to act fast, so thinking twice about the idea was out of the question, you just... did it.

"Aren't you going to watch the game, Mr. Barnes?" You asked teasingly, turning back around to face him.

Bucky scoffed, knowing exactly what you were doing calling him 'Mr. Barnes'.

"Might stop by and watch it, why sweetheart?" The man asked, with a curious look, taking another sip of his beer, something he did often to hide his smirk.

You took off the jersey you were wearing over your outfit, revealing the cheerleader getup you had just talked about, and handed him the item of clothing.

"You don't have anything to support the team! I can lend you my jersey." You said, your voice honest and innocent, as if you didn't know exactly what your words and actions meant, as if there wasn't a second meaning to what you did.

Bucky wasn't exactly subtle in the way he looked at you. His eyes were eating you up, from top to bottom, slowly taking in the view in the flesh. Eventually, he reached for the jersey and took it.

"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll make sure to give it to you when the game is over."

You mumbled a "don't mention it" and walked back into the house with your friend, so you could help everyone set up for the game.

"Dude, his dad is a real DILF." Jas whispered as you two made it to the front porch.

"I know, right?" You smugly agreed.

Whistles and compliments echoed in the room when you pulled up with the cheerleader outfit after ditching the jersey. Andy's eyes in particular stayed the longest on your body, and you felt a little guilty for nor caring about what he thought - the feedback that you truly wanted had already been received.

Bucky had joined the group not long after the game started, and you didn't miss the way his eyes stole glances at you whenever possible.

The man himself didn't know what was wrong with him. He was nearly twice your age, he could be your dad, it was a very possible scenario since his actual kid was your classmate, but for some reason, ever since you had walked into his house with that pretty little skirt and those big, shy eyes, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

He knew he wasn't being subtle when eating you up with his eyes, but Bucky wanted you to know, to see what you did to him.

Both of you were aware of the painfully tense and erotic situation, as you'd spread your legs and cross them more often than not, giving Bucky a good view or your exposed skin, making him yearn for more.

"Shit, we need more chips." One of the guys complained.

"I can get them." You offered, since you weren't really interested in the game, and stood up, taking the two empty bowls with you.

It seemed to be impossible to ever be in that house without being left alone with James Barnes, but that time it wasn't accidental at all. As you were opening the chips and dumping them on one of the bowls, footsteps echoed behind you.

Suddenly, Bucky placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around, pressing you against the counter and trapping you between the furniture and his body.

"What are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, looking straight into your widened eyes.

"I-I'm refilling the chips..." You responded, pointing at the bowl behind you with your thumb.

"Fuck the chips, you know exactly what I mean, pretty girl." The man said, cutting right through your act, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you to him.

One of the corners of your lips twitched upwards, discarding the innocent façade.

"I'm doing just what you are doing."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, it rolled off of his tongue in a manner that couldn't be described in any way other than sensual.

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled, licked his lips slowly and then brushed his hair back with his hand, out of frustration. Your naive side had him going insane with desperation, but your bold side had the man wishing to fuck the brat out of you.

"You know what?" He said, taking his hand and softly placing the pads of his fingers right above your knee "I'd love to bend you over this counter and fuck you with this little skirt still on."

His hand trailed up your leg, slowly lifting your bottoms, revealing your white panties with a pink bow in the front. Bucky smirked and chuckled, a small patch of wetness was clearly visible.

"But?..." You questioned, teasing him as you slid one of your thighs between his legs.

"Y/N! How are those chips coming along, dude?" One of the boys yelled from the living room, snapping the two of you into reality.

"Yeah- coming! One second." You responded.

"I guess we'll have to finish this later, Sergeant."

You didn't give him time to respond, as you grabbed the two bowls and walked back into the living room, the wet spot between your legs now larger than ever before, seemingly.

What Bucky was feeling was wrong. He stood there in the kitchen, thinking about you, thinking about how he towered over you and how you looked at him with those eyes that switched back and forth from innocent to fierce, to tease him, to lure him even further.

His pants were tight and his head was filled with thoughts of your body, leaving over and pressing against every surface of that house, with him inside of you.

It was torture, he couldn't handle it anymore, and he couldn't go back into the living room with such and obvious problem - and with the source of the problem sitting so close.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mr. Barnes going up the stairs, with a serious face and a quick pace. No one else seemed to notice, however, as they were too focused on the game.

"I'm going to the bathroom, anyone need anything from the kitchen?" You lied, looking for an excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible without being suspicious.

You had just come back from the kitchen with the chips, so everyone shook their head or mumbled a "no", so you stood up and followed up the stairs, looking out for any noise to find out which door Bucky had gone into.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear faint grunts that grew closer with each step. Eventually you found the door of what you assumed was his bedroom, and your whole body froze. There was only one door between you, and the thing that you had fantasized for so long.

"Fuck..." You heard him groan from the inside.

Your hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it, as the heat between your legs was too much to bear. You opened the door, just enough to be able to see him sitting on the bed, back against the wall and head leaning back, as his hand stroked his cock.

"Are you enjoying the show?" He asked, continuously jerking his shaft as he lowered his head and looked straight at you, his hair falling beautifully over his face.

Your face was burning up and your heart was racing, but your nerves were nothing compared to the pure hunger and desperation you felt for the man. You stepped into the room, carefully, as if stepping into a wolf's cage, and closed the door behind you.

Bucky watched as you walked over to him, eyes shifting between his hand's movements and his face.

His free hand flew to your hip, slowly guiding you down until you were sitting on his lap, your wet, clothed pussy applying pressure on his cock.

You stared at each other's lips for a very long time. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek and, slowly but surely, brought you closer, until there was no space left between you.

What started out slowly very quickly progressed, and the second your lips connected, his hands were all over your body, gripping you ass and toying with the little skirt he loved so much. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it ever so often as his tongue got bolder.

The two of you pulled apart, your lips were swollen and your eyes were glazed, obviously displaying how much the two of you needed more.

His eyes fell to your lips and he kissed you softly once more before looking up at your eyes.

"We shouldn't do this..." His mouth said something, but the curious fingers that played with the waistband of your panties told you a completely different story.

"Why?" You asked softly, placing small, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to close his eyes and groan.

"My son... Fuck- Andy likes you." Bucky said finally, gripping you tightly as soon as those words left his mouth, as if he thought you'd slip away at the confession.

You kept on kissing his neck, as that confession didn't faze you - if it was something that you would've been over the moon about just a month ago, it was now irrelevant. Bucky came into your life and took over your mind completely, you felt as if every release would feel subpar, unless he was the one helping you reach it.

"You really wanna stop? Hm?" You asked teasingly, as your hips began grinding against his, your wet panties rubbing on his cock.

The conflict on his face was brief, as he eventually threw his head back and let out a low groan. The male gripped your ass cheeks and flipped the two of you over as he attacked your neck.

His hands expertly slid your underwear down your legs, and the male began kissing down your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until he reached your pussy. Bucky teased you for a second, kissing your inner thighs, but he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him.

As his tongue begins licking your cunt and circling your clit, your right hand covers your mouth, while the other grips his hair.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?..." He whispers, after tasting you.

You almost came at those words, the pure filth of the whole situation leaving you dizzy with pleasure.

The man's cock throbbed against the mattress, but he was too drunk in your taste to let go - Bucky wanted to taste as much of you as possible. His tongue slipped in and out of you as he took a break from teasing your clit, and he didn't stop until your back arched, as Bucky wanted to make you cum with his cock.

Bucky's lips met yours once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. That kiss was meant to muffle your sinful sounds as he slipped inside of you and slowly pushed himself fully into you. His girth stretched you out in the most satisfying way, and, somehow, the thing you had fantasized about for so long was even better than you had imagined.

He started out slowly, looking into your eyes as if testing the waters, and picked up the pace when he saw you were comfortable enough. Thankfully the TV was loud enough to drown out the echo from the skin slapping sounds, but they wouldn't drown out much more.

Bucky covered your mouth with his hand as his hips snapped against yours at a feral pace - he wanted to make you scream in a way that you wouldn't be heard.

"Want to be a whore? Hm? Parading yourself in front of me with those pretty little skirts thinking I wasn't gonna fuck the shit out of you?"

Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and you thanked for the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to be as mouthy and as loud as you wanted to.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you looking pretty like this, sweetheart." He said, between pants.

Bucky wouldn't last long, as your ever-tightening walls and the erotic look on your face rendered him weak, but thankfully you were also near your climax - he could tell from the way your back arched slightly more by the second.

"Wanna cum for me, baby?" Bucky questioned, removing his hand so you could answer.

"Y-yeah, please, Sir."

He chuckled and smirked at the nickname that, to your credit, did have a nice ring when you were begging under him.

One of Bucky's hands slid between your bodies and circled your clit, until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your toes curled. You had to bite your lip harshly, to stop yourself from moaning out Bucky's name. The latter pulled out and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning and panting as he climaxed, spilling all over your stomach.

Knock, knock.

"Hey dad, have you seen Y/N?"

For a second your face went white and your blood froze - you begged that he didn't open the door, or he would come face to face with a rather unfortunate view. You simply stared at Bucky, trusting that he would come up with something

"Huh?" He said, pretending to be clueless at first, "Oh yeah, she had a bit of an accident." Hinting that you had gotten your period, a clever lie that Andy wouldn't question due to its nature "She was embarrassed and didn't want to tell everyone so I told her to just go home."

"Oh... Okay." Andy's voice seemed sad, and you heard his footsteps dragging on the floor and becoming quieter as he walked away.

Bucky looked into your eyes before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Guess you don't gotta go back down... Plenty of time for another round. Or two."

'minors do not interact' banner credit: @cafekitsune

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry | Aemond Targaryen

Part One (potentially ??? xoxo - indecision)

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop who could be impliedly understood as ms Alys ;o

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (m receiving), talk of sex, masturbation, bad words, very little dialogue, I wrote this in 2 hours and it is barely edited so it may be shite. guys. please tell me if I've missed a warning, luv u xoxo

Author's note: here's a wee smth while I get my head around part 2 of Infernal Desires! the idea I had for this fic was for a multi-part but idk depends on how we're feeling so there will potentially be a part 2 ;D. kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Whatever pretence was in play, you would be the first to admit that you were tired of it. A loveless marriage was nothing less than what you had expected–a union that was entirely for show and born from the political motives of your families. It was only expected.

You tried to convince yourself that you were content with such an arrangement. It suited your ambitions, meant that you could be left alone to do as you please while quenching the thirst to make your family proud. 

Somehow, despite your hesitance and despite your husband’s ignorance toward you, the one thing that you knew you would never truly hold had become your greatest wish. 

The reality was such that you found yourself longing for affection.

Preferably-of course-your husband’s affection. 

Between the forced smiles put on for expectant eyes, the brush of your shoulders whenever you sat next to each other at the dining hall and the gentle caresses at the small of your back until his touch was hurriedly removed once you were again behind closed doors, you had grown an incessant, consuming desire for the prince you were married to. 

Aemond was a man of great beauty and strength. While many had chastised his singular eye and told tales of his ruthless temper, Aemond had grown to be well respected and the object of many lustful gazes.

Eight months had passed since Aemond became your husband and you, his wife. Eight months of tense silences, lonely nights in a bed you had expected to share and eight months of nothing but false affections that were nothing but a performance.

You had considered yourself a romantic right until you felt the loneliness and realities of this marriage. Your naive desires to feel the throes and excitement of love that you read about were subject to a rude awakening the moment you became disgustingly aware of your husbands lack of it. 

Aside from the night of your wedding, Aemond seemed to avoid your bed as if it would burn his skin. Until two months ago, when you had pushed aside the sting on your pride and all but demanded he spare some time for you. 

Friends had warned you that it was hardly special. But if he was kind enough, as few of their husbands were from time to time, he would give you a chance to experience some of the pleasures of your body.

Aemond was hardly a passionate lover, it had seemed. With instruction to simply lift your skirt, he had you laying with your hips at the foot of the bed where he silently and effortlessly fucked his seed into your womb. It had not yet borne fruit despite his fortnightly visits. 

It was never enough. Your body had eventually begun to crave more. In a very raw and unmistakably physical need to find the release it had been denied for so long. Despite Aemond’s assurance on the first nights of your marriage that neither of you were to have any interest in whores or paramours, words and whispers of the prince’s capabilities had picked up over recent weeks and you came to understand that if only Aemond had wanted to, he could give you exactly what your body desired.

Even if you had the same freedoms as men when it came to taking on lovers outside of your marriage, you couldn’t. Admittedly, you’d developed a taste for luxury - a taste only for your husband. Or at least, the fantasy version of Aemond that you had concocted within your head. 

And when your hand made its way between your thighs in the small hours that followed restless nights, the only thoughts that existed in your mind were those of him. Of all the things you had hoped Aemond would guide you to discover about your bodies. Of all the things that you had read about in the books you’d sneak out to find. 

Sometimes, you wondered if Aemond thought of you while he touched himself. The idea of it often crossed your mind and you had since convinced yourself that you had been driven insane. 

Realistically, you knew that the arrangement you had with Aemond was out of necessity. Nothing more. But you were much like him in certain ways - hungry for what you know you deserve, relentless and cunning. But you had little patience left. 

The moment you had decided to make your worth known to your husband wasn’t one you could place a finger on. It was a gradual thing - as you had gently started shifting your attention past the lovers in your books who no longer calmed your lustful needs. 

You wanted him more fiercely than you had wanted for anything in your lifetime.  

So you gently lowered the neckline of your dresses to highlighted the bump of your collarbone, had your maids do your hair so that it framed your face perfectly while accentuating the shape of your neck. You had soon foregone the paler tones your mother had you wear, colours that announced your purity and innocence. The colours that you wore were deeper, richer and more sultry against the tone of your skin. 

With difficult ignorance of the nervous, shy and pious girl your parents had raised for such a match, you forced yourself to seek out Aemond’s gaze with an extra glint in your eyes. You let your once hesitant touches linger with a newfound confidence that stole your breath away whenever Aemond would escort you to and from the dining hall. On the days Aemond would spare time to walk you through the gardens, you made an effort to speak of more than just the weather. 

At times, you felt uneasy about the act you were putting on. Were the prospect of his affections so important to you that you forced yourself to act so differently? In your mind, being a seductress was never so dishonourable as many made it seem but you had hoped this act would pay off in a matter of a few weeks. 

Your impatience becomes painful when you have every other desire at your beck and call. 

But you were mistaken. If anything, Aemond’s indifference had only grown. And at each hardened glance from your head to toe, at each moment in which he continued to ignore you or look past you, your resolve weakened.  

Aemond could not have found you unattractive - this much you knew as a fact. You knew from the way he used to look at you with a gentle fire in his eye and made sure that your every other need had been taken care of. From the way he clenched his jaw in restraint when you would lay back for him, how his grip on your hips and your thighs left marks on your skin as he fucked into you - even if there was little more than a duty being performed. After all, he was still just a man. 

So despite the fact that your efforts were shaping up to be of no use, you didn’t give up. You started taking breakfast in your chambers, requesting Aemond to join you when he was available, dressed in your softest, prettiest nightgowns instead of having dressed up already. 

You made a show of it, unashamed and brazen. Almost surprisingly, Aemond enjoyed the dark cherry more than you could have hoped. There were subtle changes in the way his eye would linger over the dip of your neck, the way his wordless gaze would follow the deep red that would stain and spill from your lips as you bit into a cherry from the bowl of fruit that you shared.

Your conversations have always been comfortable. Aemond may be a brooding, arrogant hardass sometimes but he was always respectful and kind to his you in the time you shared together as husband and wife. But now he would falter, his words getting caught as he watched you gently sucking off the juice of a cherry from your fingers, humming gently as you glance at him with false nonchalance mixed with your best bedroom eyes. 

And it did drive him insane. Aemond had never seen this side of you, much unlike the quiet, prudish woman he had married. But then again, had he ever truly known you? Either way, you had caught the amusement in his gaze and the way he challenged you wordlessly with a shift of his hips and gentle smirk.

Much to your disappointment, little else changed. Nearly three weeks had passed and Aemond had given you little more than those lingering looks and a few stolen breaths. He had at once withdrawn and become increasingly lacklustre, and when you had even tried asking him about his training with Ser Cole, you received no more than curt, blunt answers at each try. 

It had become too much by the time you had retired to your chambers alone once again. The day had been long and uneventful, Helaena had been by your side for most of it which had been nice but you were in no mood to fake an interest in sifting through the performative duties of a princess. 

In all honesty, it was frustrating. You were starting to wear thin on the constant nagging of absolutely everyone about your lack of a child. It has been almost a year and you have failed to perform your duty as a wife, almost a year and you have not missed a single cycle, almost a year and you haven’t blessed the prince with an heir. 

Because, as a lady whose name you hadn’t cared enough to remember had not-so-gently uttered to you over her dreadful playing of a stringed instrument; what was the point of being his wife if you didn’t bed him well enough to carry his child? 

You had, in truth, been distracted. And the idea of carrying the child of a man who only paid you the necessary courtesies out of politeness and good manners made you feel ill. 

Queen Alicent, although you could tell she was inclined to agree with the lady, had placed a gentle yet firm hand on your bicep to calm the anger that had clearly taken you over. With a glare at the loose-lipped woman, you quickly picked up the handkerchief you’d been attempting to embroider and excused yourself. 

If anyone had noticed your absence from the evening meal, which the Queen had always insisted upon eating together, nobody bothered to say anything. 

Over an hour had passed, tossing around in your bed and your eyes stinging from embarrassment. Why was Aemond so averse to you? Why would he stare at you as if you set his blood on fire in one moment and then glance straight past you in the next? What had you done that convinced him so strongly that you were not even worth trying to be familiar with? 

The gods had surely intended to punish you for something in a past life if they were so adamant to trap you in a marriage with a man who would much rather be anywhere other than with you. 

You may as well be strangers to each other. 

The ache of your anger led you straight out of your own chambers and towards his. You spared Ser Tunsley, the knight standing at your door, a harsh glare and snapped at him to give you your privacy otherwise you’d have him stripped of his cloak. He was a timid one, you noticed, and with a nod he stood back, his eyes staring straight past your shoulder in an attempt not to stare at the thin nightgown that clung to your skin. 

It was an outrageous hour and you were of half a mind in your frustration to thank the gods for the empty hallways. In fact, you noticed the lack of an armoured man at the door to Aemond’s chambers and wondered if maybe the prince was elsewhere. 

You stepped towards the door, curiosity peaked at the sound of shifting, followed by some voices and you hesitated. Frowning, you ran through what you would say if Aemond opened the door - there was nothing that would make sense. 

As you stepped closer to the door, a soft light spilled out and you noticed that it was, in fact, just barely ajar. 

It was unlike Aemond to leave his door open and you were certain he would question you sneaking around the hallways in the small hours, dressed only in underclothes. But you ignored the rational voice at the back of your mind and took silent steps so close to the door that it would be cowardly to back out now. 

You couldn’t hear the voices anymore, ears ringing as you held your breath and gently nudged the door while muttering a silent prayer that it wouldn’t make a sound. 

Shock first. Then fear, anger, desire and an all consuming jealousy as you took a moment to understand what you were seeing.  

Aemond was resting at the end of his bed, naked and resting his weight lazily on one arm, his free hand tangled in the dark hair of a slender woman, just as bare as him, kneeling at his feet and moving her head in an up and down motion. Aemond guided her movements with a firm hand, his head tipped back gently. 

He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You’d never seen him without it–he never let you. His eye was firmly shut and you caught the glint of the sapphire in place of the other that was stolen from him. The movements of his chest were heavy and you could hear him panting gently, lips gently parted. 

You were unable to tear your eyes off of Aemond. He looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him, under the golden hue of the lamps, his body lean and chiselled–each curve and muscle glowing under the lights. You could see his pleasure, in his expression, the tinting of his skin and the way he roughly tugged at the mystery woman’s hair. A couple strands of his own hair, usually pulled away from his face, fell forward and the flush of his cheeks were starkly pink against the silver of his hair. He let out a breathy groan, murmuring something you couldn’t quite hear as he opened his eye, dark with lust, and gazed down at the woman that was hunched over his lap. The lewd sounds of her mouth on him almost made you gasp and you thanked the gods that Aemond could not see you. Because you could not move if you tried. 

You couldn’t see anything other than the back of her head, and you were glad of it. Because you knew that seeing her face would have been too much and staying hidden and quiet would have been ten times more difficult. Despite the pressure between your thighs, the uncomfortable slick that you felt against your small clothes and the heat that rushed through you from head to toe, you glared viciously at the back of her head. 

Aemond’s breathing stuttered, a string of curses falling carelessly from his lips while he watched the woman as if he were entirely enchanted by her. Despite the fact that you couldn’t really see what she was doing, so expertly that had him in such a state, the entire thing felt obscene. And you could hear her muffled moans, the wetness and her light gagging when Aemond tightened his hold on her hair and thrusted upwards.

Your cheeks burned and your blood felt like lava coursing through your veins. The intensity of your want for him–as he was right now–made you dizzy and you drew in sharp breaths, careful not to make a sound. Because if he turned his head slightly to the left, just for a second, he would see you. You didn’t want to know the consequences. But nothing  that existed among all of the realm could force you to turn around and leave. 

Aemond’s groans were quiet and deep but they grew slightly louder than before, his breath catching as you could see him grow closer to his peak. Your thighs trembled as you pressed them together, barely thinking about how you would be able to escape after he was done–when he would surely see you watching unashamedly. 

The sounds that Aemond was making sent shockwaves straight to your wetness and as you could see his entire body grow visibly tense, hips jerking as his groans turned strained amongst grunts and whispers of just like that and fuck and—a name. 

It was your name. 

You couldn’t help but gasp, clenching around nothing, squeezing and rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve the throbbing of your clit. The woman faltered, much to your satisfaction, and she pulled her head back from him. You couldn’t see past her but her hands remained as they were, biceps moving gently as she continued to touch him. 

“Aemond-” you winced as she said his name, no bother for formality. Her voice was slightly husky and it remained sultry and smooth. “I’m not-”

Your husband’s jaw ticked, squeezing his eye shut and pushing her head down towards his hips again. “I know. Fuck–” he grunted, roughly pushing her further down, cursing as she gagged. She hummed around him. 

Suddenly, the desire in your veins became secondary to the jealousy that burned your lungs and the betrayal that caught in your throat. You knew men were not faithful creatures, and even though part of you had known Aemond had been no different–not with how you have heard the servants speak on a couple occasions–but foolishly, you had hoped that he had been a man of his word. Another naive part of you truly did believe him when he said he would have no other woman. 

Whatever she was doing, however she was doing it and no matter that it was your name that fell from his lips, Aemond was enjoying it. He was praising her–telling her she was his, telling her she was doing so well and letting himself get lost in the pleasure she was giving him. 

It was painful to watch and you cursed your body for yearning so badly for reprieve. You’d become soaked, thighs slick from where you’d dripped down. But you would be damned if you gave in and as Aemond’s hips started jerking, his strained grunts becoming desperate as he chased the peak he was nearing, you pushed yourself away from the door and ran back towards your own chambers. 

The entire scene had seared itself into your brain and you trembled as you shut yourself away in your bedchambers, ignoring whatever questions Ser Tunsley had been asking you. 

Who was that woman? You couldn’t make sense of all the questions that flooded your brain. The emotions that fought for dominance. How had they met? Was she a whore? 

Did they see you? 

Your mind replayed the way he’d groaned your name, unable to help yourself from whimpering at the memory. It didn’t make any sense. Aemond was clearly thinking about you yet he had never so much as spared you more than a heated look - he had never even given you a kiss. 

Aemond had never been so comfortable with you. Not the way he was with her. The way he let her say his name–free of his title, like she was his equal. You had only addressed him without title once, on the night of your wedding. 

You laughed. How silly this all was. 

Despite your arousal, and regardless of your hurt, you were angry. 

How dare he? Did he think so little of you? 

Did he love her? Is that why he never tried for you? 

It was infuriating. And there was little you could do about it. But nonetheless, you saw an opportunity through the tears you scolded yourself for shedding over a man who never gave you what you deserved. 

Aemond would regret it. And he’d learn that his wife was the only woman who could give him what he needs. But for now, you let yourself grieve the Aemond you had led yourself to believe was real. The man who held your hand in his and told you that while he couldn’t be the husband you wanted, he would never disrespect you so much as to let another woman into his bed. 

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 4]

word count: 3420 || avg. reading time: 15 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, use of alcohol

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

By the time Christmas was over, Issei and you were texting each other regularly again. It started with you sending him a picture of a holiday snack he told you about over coffee, and you wanted to confirm that it was the right one. Later that day, he let you know that the photo made him crave the snack, too, so he had gone out to get a bag himself. An hour or so later you asked him if he’d seen the latest cheesy holiday flick on Netflix, he said No but followed it up by saying that it would be rectified immediately and you, naturally, watched it at the same time, texting each other updates and reactions about the plot. There was no doubt that you missed him, and you felt a weird mixture of small happiness and caution whenever your phone buzzed with a new text, but whichever way you looked at it, you couldn’t forget the fact that the first half of your relationship had all been pretend. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you laughed about his silly comments on the movie and when you replayed a voice message he sent imitating an especially ridiculous line.

The day before New Year’s then, your heavily suppressed need to be in his arms again was put to the test. The cold and gloom of the weather coupled with the immense amount of Christmas rom-coms you’d consumed had you reach for the phone more times than you cared to admit. But instead of giving in to the urge, you tossed the devilishly tempting device onto your roommate’s bed and buried yourself deep into a blanket, with your comfort show playing on your tablet.

“Hey, Y/n.”, your roommate came in, freshly showered after a workout at the gym. Yawning from a lazy day spent in bed, you watched her open her wardrobe and pick through her clothes.

“Date tonight?”, you asked.

“Hmm, kinda. My boyfriend and I are gonna go out drinking with some friends and stay up til midnight.”

“That’s nice.”, you said flatly.

“Wanna come?”, she asked, holding a skin-tight little black dress up to her towel-wrapped body and assessing her image in the spotty mirror.

You cocked an incredulous brow in your blanket burrito.

“Do I look like I wanna party?”

Your roommate met your eyes in the reflection and snorted.

“I mean, we still have two hours until we’re supposed to meet. That’s plenty of time to get ready.”, she gave you an encouraging smile, “Come on, I’d love for you to come.”

“Stop tugging at your skirt, you look great. - There he is. Hey handsome!”

Your roommate somehow lengthened her stride despite the high heels and restricting dress, jogging into the arms of the young man waiting in front of the restaurant. He had a stocky build and was half a head shorter than her, especially noticeable in those shoes. You recognized him as the varsity Volleyball team’s libero and offered a small wave hello, which went unnoticed because they were very busy greeting each other. To be honest, the way he looked into his girlfriend’s eyes after she kissed him made you believe in true love and want to throw up at the same time.

Once inside, you were all welcomed warmly by a large group of people sitting around a long table, every bit of which was covered with platters of food. The smell of steak, seared vegetables, and warming soups wafted through the air and made your mouth water. A few more seats were unoccupied but filled up in the next half an hour as more friends joined. You had never talked to or even met any of these people and for the most part, stuck to looking at your dinner and nodding politely along to surrounding conversations.

“Why are you always late?”, the boyfriend laughed towards the door while he dug into a pile of meat. You turned slightly, mildly curious. The slice of cheesy omelet almost fell from your chopsticks when none other than Issei greeted the table, giving your roommate’s boyfriend a half hug. He did a double-take when he saw you. “Y/n. What - hi, how are you?”

Draping his jacket over the back of the chair, he sat down on the remaining space next to you. His leg began to bounce.

Throughout the evening, with the help of your roommate, people also turned their attention to you and even asked questions about what it was like to live and study in Japan, about your home country and holiday traditions.

“Look at you making all those new friends.”, Issei said under his breath, smiling at his plate, but obviously directing the comment at you.

“Well yeah, I’m amazing.”, you said and dramatically pretended to flip your hair.

He smiled even wider and looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah. You are.”, he lowered his voice even more until it was barely more than a soft low hum, “You look beautiful, by the way. The outfit suits you.”

You pretended to admire the holiday decoration of the room so he wouldn’t see the heat rising in your face.

You were luckily spared any need for a reply when someone to your right said into the group, “What do you say, should we get the party started?”

General cheers erupted around the table, and a waiter was asked for a round of shots.

You raised the glass to your nose for an experimental sniff.

“It’s sake.”, your roommate explained.

“Oh, you might wanna ask for something else.”, Issei advised.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think you’ll like sake.”

You cocked a challenging brow.

“Because… you don’t drink a lot, and you like your alcohol sweet.”, he added tentatively.

Along with the rest of the table, you toasted to the upcoming new year, holding eye contact with Issei as you demonstratively downed the glass.

“Alright, be my guest.”, he shrugged and drank his own.

You shuddered next to him, eye twitching and mouth pursing.

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he leaned slightly forward on the table to hide your making faces of disgust behind his broad back.

When you resurfaced, he asked smugly, “How was it?”

“Best thing ever.”, you pressed out and turned once more in your chair for another round of coughing.

“I’m so glad you like it!”, your roommate exclaimed and took bottles worth of sake from a new tray the waiter was holding out for her, “Have another one!”

“Sure.”, you croaked, discreetly stepping on Issei’s foot so that he would stop cackling.

He was already done with his second glass, while you still tried to hype yourself up for what you could only describe as rubbing alcohol with notes of hellfire and a hint of sandpaper.

You turned the glass in your fingers and then noticed how Issei rested his arms on the table as if more engrossed in everyone’s conversations. Behind his elbow, out of view for everyone else, he made a small grabbing motion while he talked with your roommate’s boyfriend. A little puzzled, you carefully pushed your sake into his waiting fingers. It must have been the right move because he set down his own emptied glass in front of you and now smoothly drank yours. As the night went on, glass after glass was exchanged this way and Issei’s cheeks soon turned rosy.

There was still some time left until midnight when Issei stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly caused a collision with a waiter.

“Sor- sorr- ssory.”, he slurred, looking a little past the waiter, probably because he saw two of them and chose the wrong one to address.

Being the only sober person at the table and feeling very guilty for him having had twice as many drinks as everyone else, you volunteered to take him back to the dorm safely. Issei stood still-ish as you wrapped his scarf around his neck and helped him into his jacket but tumbled immediately as soon as you began ushering him towards the exit. He slung his arm around your shoulder, and you half-hoisted him into a waiting taxi in front of the restaurant. You gave the driver the address of the university and opened your handbag to fish out the small bottle of water you had prudently packed. While you were still engrossed in your task in the darkness of the backseat, Issei mumbled, “Lissen, you’re very preddy an’ I’m sure you’re suber nice but… I’m not over my ex an’- an’ it wouldn’t be fair to you. M sorry. I jus’ can’t.”

You stiffened slightly, then held out the water to him without a word.

By the time you arrived at the campus, Issei had dozed off and the side of his face was smooshed against the window.

With the help of the kind driver, you got him out of the car and made your way to his dorm. The campus was quiet. Most students were probably in the city, celebrating, anticipating.

The water and cold night air seemed to have sobered Issei up a little, and he managed to swerve around a bollard rudely put in his way. Progress was arduous, and the freshly fallen layer of snow crunched under his sneakers. You really wore the wrong shoes for this. Your heels slipped on the icy ground, making you cling to Issei as much as he did to you for stability.

“Let’s sit for a moment.”, you suggested about halfway to the dorm. Issei was heavy as a dead weight, and you could feel sweat forming under your hat from lugging him along. Using the hem of your coat, you brushed snow off a wooden bench before you both plopped down. A few stray snowflakes rushed along the ground, picked up by a little breeze that swept over the empty courtyard. You offered him another gulp of water, which he readily accepted.

“Thank you.”, he whispered, almost too quiet to hear, then cleared his throat and repeated it a bit louder.

“No problem.”, you said and focused on the ground where you nudged some snow around with the tip of your shoe.

Issei groaned, pushing both his hands onto the bench, and swayed slightly back and forth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better.”, he mumbled, keeping his head low and eyes closed.

“We’re almost there. Not much further.”

“I never should have taken that bet.”, he said quietly.

“What?”

“I never should have even talked to these guys.”

He was now staring at his knees and his voice caught when he continued, “I can’t believe I ruined it. I should have… I should have come up to you on our first day and I should have kissed you.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you tried to joke, “Well, I would have probably used my pepper spray and reported you to the dean.”

Issei gave a toneless laugh.

“Look, I…” You hesitated. “I forgive you. It’s okay. - And hey, you’ll meet someone new someday and definitely not make that same mistake again.” After a moment's waver, you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing for comfort.

“I don’t want - shit-”, he broke off and turned his head away, then coughed and tried to take a deep breath, but his back stiffened and he coughed again. You realized he started sobbing.

“Issei…”

“Don’t-“, he began.

“Don’t… what?”, you asked softly, taking your hand off his shoulder in case he meant you should stop touching him.

He turned to you, eyes drowning in tears, “I’m so sorry. But don’t … don’t tell me I’ll find someone else.”

“But…”

“No! I don’t want anyone else! God, y/n, I love you so much. I can’t just…”, he hiccuped, “You’re everything I want. You’re all I can think about. I understand that you want to move on. And you deserve the world.” His large hands, still cold from the bench, came up to ever so gently cup your face, “You can hate me but… don’t tell me I’ll ever get over you. I won’t.”

With that, he dropped his hands and rested his forehead on your shoulder as the tears kept falling and you patted his head to soothe him through a new wave of sobs.

The inky black sky lit up with bright lights. Crackling, whistling, and popping of the New Year’s fireworks almost completely swallowed your reply. “I can’t hate you.”

It took a few tries for Issei to slot the key into the front door lock of his building but eventually, you managed to help him up the stairs and into his room. The burnt plant still sat on the window sill and you spotted one of the plushies you had returned to him stuffed halfway under his pillow when he flopped face down onto his bed. You took off his jacket and scarf and made him drink the last bit of water left in the bottle before covering him with his blanket.

“Thank you.”, he said and yawned widely.

“No problem.” Your eyes met and for a fraction of a heartbeat you wanted to lean down to kiss him goodnight but instead, you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Are you gonna stay?”, he asked hopefully.

“No, I shouldn’t. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

When you got up he held onto the tips of your fingers. It wouldn’t haven’t taken any effort at all to pull yourself free but you didn’t want him to let go.

“Issei, I have to go.”

He thought about it, studying your face in the dim light of the occasional distant rocket. Then he sat up and pushed the blanket off.

“I should walk you.”

“What? You- no. Lay back down.”

“But it’s dark and creepy. You hate dark and creepy.”

“I’ll be fine.”, you couldn’t help but smile when you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him into his pillow.

“Do you want to call me? I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re in your room.”

You shook your head and tucked him in again.

“Sorry… I didn’t wanna be pushy about it.”, he muttered into his blanket.

“I’ll text you when I’m there.”

His eyes brightened and he nodded.

As soon as he got your message that you were in your bed, he hugged his phone to his chest and fell asleep.

The New Year started with a hangover for Issei. His head felt like it was about the size and weight of a prized watermelon. He wanted to check his phone for the time but the battery was dead. No wonder, since he found it underneath him in bed instead of charging on his nightstand. He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to piece together what happened the night before. Deciding that the memories would come back to him eventually, he plugged in his phone and went to take a shower in the meantime, using a hand on the wall to steady himself. The hot water brought back a few bits and pieces, flashes of you sitting in a restaurant next to him laughing, you murmuring a pouty thank you when he took the sake off your hands, him sobbing on some bench. When that last one started to return in vivid detail, he shook his head and shut off the water. He cleared his throat and continued with his morning routine, hoping that the sobbing was nothing but an overly dramatized version of whatever stoically shed manly tears he’d actually produced.

With the groan of an old man, Issei sat back down on his bed a few minutes later, while he started up his phone again. A couple of messages from his friends waited in the group chats, tags on social media, a video clip from his sister and her husband, and a voicemail from his parents wishing him a happy new year. But all of that was ignored when he saw a little number next to your name in the chat.

One was from a notification about a deleted message somewhere around 2 a.m., the other was just sent 10 minutes ago.

“We should talk about last night. I’m having breakfast rn. When you’re up, come find me.”

He only stumbled once on his way to the closet where he grabbed random sweats and a hoodie and when he shuffled back into his bathroom slippers - the first shoes he saw - he ran down the corridor and out of the building.

You were lost in thought, stirring your mostly soggy cereal with a long spoon and absently tapping around on your phone, wondering if he was still asleep. The murmured practice of your small prepared speech was cut short, however, because the doors to the cafeteria flew open and a very disheveled Issei looked around. It only took a moment to spot you in the almost empty hall and he hurried over.

“Good morning.”, you said, your heart softened as you noticed a cowlick just above his ear, “Happy New Year.”

“Yea. That. Good New Year to you. You wanted to talk?”

“Okay, straight to the point.” You pushed your breakfast tray away from you so you had space to nervously knead your hands on the table.

But before you could say anything he started rambling, “I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday, I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. If you wanna tell me that we can’t even be friend-adjacent anymore I might as well change schools. So -“

“Firstly, I’m glad we’re not overreacting here.”

“Right.”, he breathed out and sat down across from you.

“Alright, I’m not gonna drag this out. I still have feelings for you and while it will take a bit for me to trust you again I’d like to give it another go. - If you’re up for it.”

Issei blinked in shock. You used the opportunity to elaborate a little on the terms you had laid out last night in bed while you were staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied with overthinking to consider sleep.

“We can get to know each other again and see where it takes us. A fresh start.”, you looked at him, waiting. He still gaped at you. “This is the part where you would answer.”, you said patiently.

“Yes!”, he called, the echo of which bounced off the walls and had the few other students and cafeteria staff turn their heads in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Ahem. That sounds … uhm. Good.”

“Good?”

“I said what I said.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s start with a coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

And he was already jogging to the beverage station.

You watched as he placed two steaming cups on a tray and came back over, slowing his steps in thought, then speeding up again with new determination.

He came to a halt next to the table.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

“What?”

“This chair.”, Issei nodded to the empty spot, “Are you expecting anyone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you said, you’d have to get to know me again so… Hi, I’m Issei and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You frowned with amused disbelief.

“If I say No, do I still get that coffee?”

“Maybe?”

“Fine… just sit down.”, you chuckled.

“Thank you.”

He took his seat and put the mug down in front of you, excitedly.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“That’s gorgeous. Very fitting.”

“Uh huh.”, you grinned but decided to play along, “I gotta warn you, I just got out of a relationship.”

He wrapped his hands around his coffee. “Oh yeah? Tell me about the guy.”

You sighed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Hm hm.”

“To be honest, he was kinda a jerk. Started off great but then I found out he was just using me.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Well in the name of full disclosure, I have to confess something, too. I just got dumped by the love of my life and you remind me of her.”

“So I’m your rebound.”

“Yes.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wow, you suck at this.”

“Oh, just you wait til you find out about all the other things I suck at. The list is pretty long. We can talk about all of them on our first date, x/n.”

“It’s y/n.”

“Right, sorry.”

You both laughed.

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who was invested in this story. This was truly another passion project and I hope you enjoyed it until the end 🌟

taglist: @grassbutneo @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324 @remiratboi @ilovemymomscooking @hashxu @animechick555 @appepel @aldebrana @the-dreaming-me @screamin-abt-haikyuu @dira333 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic

[masterlist]

[hitomisuzuya]

Hii, may I ask for a fic where scara and reader are a pair of emo best friends listening to emo music, super loud! In her room while her parents are fighting? They've always been sexually curious and experimenting. Soo reader's sad, he says fuck it, gets on top, and starts grinding his knee against her clit?

Usually, they NEVER get too far, so the reader knows that he's committed when she moans.

Soo cunnilingus? Maybe they likee each other? Praise? Calling her parents dumb and just validating her complaints (like if u going to fight dont do it around your spawnling?) A little bit of 'we could do better than them' bc reader is lowkey scared of ending up like them???

Please ik this is a bit too detailed, im kinda venting lol. Please feel free to omit a bunch if you must.

-shyent💗

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. clit stimulation. cunnilingus. praise, validation, and comfort.

it wasn't too detailed at all. i hope this makes you feel better, hun❤️ i think we all can relate this more than we like to admit😞

you have your hands covering your ears, your eyes squeezed shut. not even the loud music playing in your room soothed you. your body was tense with restless anxiety.

and scaramouche couldn't stand it. he knew he needed to do something. anything. anything to get you to focus on him and not the sounds of your parents fighting downstairs. when you are focused on him, it was like he was the only thing in this world. you noticed nothing else but him.

he reached over and took your hands off of your ears. you'd told him once that you enjoyed the sound of his voice. he put his lips next to your ear. "i can take you somewhere else, if you want," he offered, moving closer to you on your bed.

you shook your head, turning the music down a little. "no, it's okay. it wouldn't really matter. i am still going to know that they are fighting," you would still be tense the same way be it here or at his house.

"i can go tell them to shut the fuck up," he offered, it was more of a way to get to you smile. because it he really would. he would open your door and shout at them to shut the fuck up. loudly. he didn't give a shit. and that's the exact reason why you smiled, if only a little.

"you know, they might shut up if they hear me making you moan," he tentatively posed the idea. more to see if you would crack another little smile, but at the same time, he was completely serious. his hands had gotten up your shirt and into your bra while you were making out with him the other day.

he sure made you moan when he started pinching and stroking your nipples. he fed off of it. his hand has been so close to dipping into your panties. he is so fucking in love with you he couldn't stand it. making you focus on him would calm you down.

and that was what you needed.

you need him.

"you think they might?" you asked. his eyes widened a little. his cock pulsed with the hope you were serious. there was only one way for him to find out.

"i think they might," scaramouche turned down the music, and put his hands on your shoulders. he felt you immediately relax a little the moment you felt his touch. he laid you down on your bed, drinking in the way you blushed as you looked up at him.

he counted himself lucky that you wore a skirt today. your skirt bunched up around your thighs as he got on top of you. tentatively at first, he started to rub his knee on your clit. it wasn't long before your breathing turned shaky sounding, your clit starting to swell and throb.

he shivered as your juices began to soak his knee. he increased the pressure, keening soft moans from your throat. he would've leaned down and kissed you had he not wanted to drink in your face starting to contort with pleasure.

you rocked your hips up, grinding your clit on his knee. he could see the whole world falling away from you, focusing only on him in a way that made his cock ache more. your panties sticking and unsticking around your clit added extra friction, hazing your senses with pleasure.

you have forgotten all about your parents.

reaching your hand up, you caressed his cheek. "scara, can you make me feel good?" you asked, letting out a louder moan as he twisted his knee on your clit.

scaramouche did not need to be asked twice. how many fantasies had he had about you that started off just like this. the amount of cum he spilled into his hands jacking off at night to thoughts of you said as much.

there was such a look of desperation in your eyes. desperation for him. you are depending on him, and scaramouche latched onto that. "your parents really are fucking stupid," he moved down between your legs, moving your panties aside. you blushed seeing his mouth hovering above your pussy.

his tongue swept out to part your folds. he'd lost count of times he'd jacked himself off thinking about you grinding your pussy on his mouth. he licked long slow stripes up and down your pussy, groaning as your taste saturated his tongue. "i can't have my precious pet being so tense all the time."

the blush on your cheeks darkened hearing his words. something about hearing him call you his precious pet made your clit swell and throb more. you shifted restlessly on your bed, your hips jerking up to grind on his tongue.

scaramouche wagged the tip of his tongue around your clit, making moans come from you instead of words. your hands found the back of his head, pushing his mouth down onto your pussy as you sought more friction.

"that's my good girl," his praise filled you with an arousing warmth. it was like something snapped in you. whimpering softly, you knew in that moment, you would do anything to hear it again.

"say it again, please!" you cried out, tugging on his hair. the pleasure coiling was so strong it made your eyes water, your thighs trembling as he latched his lips onto your clit.

scaramouche chuckled softly into your messy pussy, keeping his eyes focused on you so he didn't miss one twitch or contortion of pleasure. "my good, sweet girl," louder moans tore from your throat, your walls clenching empty around nothing. "we can do better than they can," he released your clit with a wet pop, licking his lips before focusing his tongue on your hole.

"i'm in love with you!" you suddenly cried out. the words came tumbling out of your mouth, his tongue felt that good working your pussy over. groaning, he prodded his tongue inside of you. "i've always been in love with you!"

he swirled his tongue inside of you. pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes. your hips bucked shamelessly into his mouth, enjoying the comforting way his fingers dug into your thighs possessively. "fuck me with your tongue, please."

the way you were starting to babble made his cock pulse and strain in his pants. scaramouche was sure your parents could hear you. and he fucking loved it. "go ahead, kitten. let them hear what real pleasure sounds like."

his tongue worked over your pussy with extra vigor, snapping the knot of your orgasm to curl tighter in your core. his thumbs skimmed over the insides of your thighs in encouragement, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you couldn't help it. scaramouche's tongue made you cunt sensitive, your release gushing onto his tongue suddenly. "so fucking sweet," he growled, eagerly lapping at your release like a starved dog.

he didn't take his mouth off of your pussy, tongue fucking you through your orgasm until you were breathless and shaking. when he kissed you, you didn't think it would be intimate tasting yourself on his tongue.

[littlemissshoei]

SHAMELESS

isagi yoichi x reader.

CONTENT WARNING: roommates, confessions, fem!virgin reader, virgin!isagi, thigh fucking, shy isagi, creampie, idiots in love, they're both inexperienced.

CHARACTERS HAVE BEEN AGED UP, 18+ CONTENT

He was shameless.

But who could even blame him?

Every time the boy watched you leave your shared apartment in the most body fitting dresses, all dolled up for another man’s eyes to feast on, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

How you’d look underneath him, half lidded eyes, dilated pupils, as your voice whined his name oh so prettily. These were nothing but distant realities of course. You and him were not the same.

While he was the one with the wild fantasies, you were the ones that fulfilled yours. Going out as perfect as a wrapped up Christmas gift and coming home a mess. Every Time he saw your drunk figure wobbling down the hallway, trying to find its way onto the couch, he could feel the jealousy boiling deep within, wondering when it would be his turn to have you for the night.

If he was completely honest he didn’t want you JUST for the night, no. He wanted you all to himself like the egoist he is. But who in their right mind would admit something like that to their years-long childhood best friend?

The two of you go way back. Your mothers befriended each other in college and had been inseparable ever since. Your friendship was only natural.

The boy had grown to love you over the years, and watched you transform from a timid girl into a boy magnet. You were always surrounded by them, but you usually paid them no mind. You only started doing that when the two of you entered college.

Your friends had told you to loosen up, so you did! But Isagi had never expected you to go out THAT much. Deep down he always wished to gain some experience himself, to be able to swipe you off your feet, even if it was just for a night, but he was destined to fail.

Despite everyone around him assuming he had done it before, and he just preferred keeping sex to a relationship, he was actually a virgin. A pathetic one at that, because any time he needed to relieve his stress, all he had to think about was your face. The way your plush thighs would peek out of your short skirts, your radiating smile wishing him a good night. Just thinking about you, crying from pleasure underneath him, begging him for more and more, it was all he ever wished for.

And sometimes, just sometimes wishes do come true.

As Isagi lazed around the couch, endlessly scrolling through netflix in search of the perfect movie, he heard footsteps in the hallway. Soon enough half of your body showed up from around the doorframe, towel holding your hair as you waved nervously at the boy.

“Yoichi, hi! Sorry.. Did you happen to have seen the blow dryer?”

You asked, eyes scanning across the room.

“It’s in my room. Do you need it?” He replied, slowly standing up as he made his way towards you.

“I’d appreciate it, yes.”

“Oh. You’re going on another date?”

You nodded.

Usually you’d let your hair air dry, so whenever you were in need of your shared blow dryer, Isagi understood you were planning to go out.

“Yeah. I haven’t had one in a while.”

“Pent up?”

He asked casually, surprised when he noticed the rosy tint your cheeks took on.

“Mm.. yeaa..” You replied almost hesitantly, looking away.

He found your reactions adorable. Too bad you weren’t his. You graced him with your signature smile, taking the electronic out of his hand before you rushed towards your room to get ready. You only had 1,5 hour left, meaning you had to hurry your pace a little.

Looking around your perfectly organized little desk you put together another breathtaking look, brushing your hair before walking up towards your closet, index finger tapping your chin as your eyes didn’t meet the perfect dress yet. Pushing aside a few dresses, they finally landed on the perfect piece, one that would fit all your curves, and most importantly, one that would get you laid.

Putting on the black, silky dress with ease, you turned to admire yourself in the mirror. hands slowly gliding along your sides. surprised at how well this actually suits you.

The dress was rather daring. While you always went all out with getting ready, today you went a little overboard. As you adjusted the thin, black straps you took one last look at yourself, content with everything and stuffed your phone inside a little bag, ready to go out.

Just as you were about to leave through the door, the sound of a notification made you stop in your tracks, curious to see who it could be.

It was your date, there to share some devastating news.

His mother got sick and he had to rush her to the hospital. The boy apologized, promising her to take her out another time. Yes, he was a sweetheart, and you appreciated his message, but what were you gonna do now?

“Fucking HELL!”

You groaned, pacing back and forth as you thought about another plan.

“What’s wro—”

He stopped before finishing, eyes widened in surprise at your choice of dress. It was maddening. A tight, black dress, barely long enough to cover your thighs, with a split that stopped right under your waist. The straps were thin, with a pretty deep cleavage, exposing the soft flesh of your breasts that were perfectly pushed together, your neck adorned with a bit of jewellery to spice the whole thing up.

“Oh.. wow.”

He mumbled, not able to keep his eyes away from her.

“So much effort just to get cancelled on, fuck!”

You scoffed, turning off her phone. You should’ve considered your next choice of words more carefully, because a man will get what it wants, given the permission that is.

“All I wanted is to get fucked.”

And that was just the permission he was looking for. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the front door, A look you had never seen before sparking in your roommates eyes.

“You wanna get fucked hm? How about I help you out.. would be a shame to let your efforts go to waste now would it..”

He smirked, enjoying every second as he drank in your flustered expression and the way your eyes darted towards his free hand that was inching closer to her waist.

“Y..yoichi?” You managed to stutter out, not able to comprehend what was going on.

“You’re acting off.. what do you mean?!”

“Exactly what I said.”

He continued, arm now snaked around you.

“You want that, don’t you?”

Your little nod was all he needed, dragging you into his bedroom before pushing you onto the bed, feeling himself growing with the little whimper you let out as he manhandled you.

His hands were all over you, soon enough finding the zipper of your dress before eagerly, but oh so slowly starting to drag it down, watching as the dresses’ grip around you got looser and looser, until it was finally off, revealing a beautiful set of matching, black, lace lingerie.

It was as if he had finally gotten some sense knocked into him, blinking a few times before his hand ran through his hair.

“Holy shit.. I di—”

“Ichi…”

The sight was to die for. There you were, sprawled out onto his bed in the sexiest set he had ever seen, chest heaving with every breath, eyes clouded by lust. It was getting harder to hold back, but what was he supposed to do now? He had never gotten this far with anyone, was he about to ruin the moment?

“I’m sorry [name] .. I have to tell you something..”

He started, watching as you sat up and looked at him.

“I’ve.. never actually done this. I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself.. I guess I just wante—”

“Ichi..”

You repeated, your face slowly inching closer, breathing heavily as one of your hands found its way to his cheek.

“Let me share a little secret..”

You whispered, looking him straight into the eyes.

“I have never gotten this far either.”

Those few words caused his brain to malfunction and lose control of his body. Without even realizing it, he had pushed you onto the bed, keeping you pinned against it with his body while his mouth attacked yours, greedily claiming each and every part of it, slipping his tongue in the moment he could feel you gasp.

He knew this was a bad idea, and this could ruin everything you guys knew,

But Yoichi Isagi was a shameless man.

The two of you parted, the only evidence left of your connection being a string of saliva. You stared at each other, breathlessly, as you noticed Isagi’s overly flustered face.

“You okay?”

You asked, leaning a little forward. A smile tugged at your lips when you noticed the boy shiver at your touch.

“Sensitive? Cute.”

“Shut the fuck up I’m not sensi— Ah!”

He yelped as your finger traced his neck, rapidly breathing at your sudden touch.

“Such big words for someone that gets worked up about something like this hm?”

Yoichi rolled his eyes, softly pushing away your hand.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, I just.. you know.”

“You what?”

“This is fucking embarrassing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have started this.”

He took a deep breath before he started speaking again.

“I like you.”

You stared blankly at him. The little pout on his face was so cute, it took all your willpower to not squish his cheeks.

“Say something [name].”

“What do you want me to say??”

“How you feel, duh??”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

You asked as you inched closer again.

“I wouldn’t have let you do this if I didn’t. How about you let those gears in your brain do the work and connect all the dots.”

Connect all the dots?

The boy started thinking. About how shy you got around him. The way you’d ALWAYS show your outfit to him before you left, the backhanded flirts you’d throw around, claiming you’re out there for fun. Everything started making sense now.

“Looks like someone found the answer.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Huh?”

“You wanted to fuck me. Go ahead.”

“But I have no experience..”

He admitted embarrassed, refusing to look at her.

“Neither do I. So let’s do our best together.”

The room was filled with breaths and moans as the two of you decided to continue your little activity. His hands were everywhere, all over your body, sending delicious shivers down your spine. Your hands in return glided down his chest, happily drinking up his little grunts and breaths in between your sloppy kisses.

The both of you were left almost naked, just some thin pieces of fabric separating you. You could feel the boy getting harder as he grinded against you, keeping your hips against his in need for some friciton.

“Mm.. Ichi..”

You said as you felt him stop.

“Can I try something?”

When he asked you to try something you hadn’t expected him to quite literally fuck your thighs. You were on all fours, feeling his cock rub against your clothed heat as he pumped in betwen your thighs, grunting and muttering inaudible words.

“Wanted.. to do this.. since the moment I laid eyes on them..” He said, gripping the plush flesh of your thighs as he continued buckling his hips against you.

With a few last thrusts he came, leaving himself a panting mess as you turned around. He helped you lay down as he started peppering light kisses all across your body, going down from your stomach to your thighs, where he decided was the perfect spot to leave marks.

Noticing you were squeezing your legs together he smiled, his fingers gently finding their way to rub against your clothed heat.

“Fuck.. You’re wet..”

“What did you expect, idiot.”

“Can I?”

You nodded, and the last bits of clothes you had on got discarded. Now he could finally see you in all your glory, and he realized the real thing was so much better than what he had imagined.

His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing them, his face flushing at your flustered expression.

“Ichi.. please..?”

“Fuuucckk..”

With a trembling hand, his fingers slipped in between your wet folds, gliding between them until he experimentally slipped one finger inside. He felt your velvety walls clench around it, and he could swear you were going to cut off his blood circulation with how tight you were.

Slowly he started pumping it in and out, his thumb circling across your clit in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Mm.. feels good…”

“I’m gonna add another one, mkay?”

He added another finger as he dragged them in and out, curling them every now and then to get another reaction out of you. As his pace quickened he could feel your climax approaching, and with a few more moans escaping your wet lips, you came around his fingers.

He pulled them out, leaving you empty and gasp for air.Just as you thought the two of you were done, you realized he was hard again.

“Sorry.. That was just..”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we..?”

You nodded.

The male hovered over you, positioning himself in between your legs, his throbbing cock sliding up and down your folds. He wasn’t used to this feeling, but he sure as hell felt addicted already.

“Can I..?”

“Yes, Yoichi.”

His hand found yours, holding it in a comforting way as he slowly pushed the tip inside, watching your legs lock around his waist as you let out a muffled moan.

“Shh.. T’is okay, I’ll stop now. Let me know when I can continue.”

After you started adjusting you squeezed his hand, letting him know he could continue. He watched your face distort into looks of pain and pleasure as he slowly pushed himself inside you, until he was completely sheated in.

The two of you sat there for a momemnt, breathing heavily before he thrusted in and out slowly.

“Ah! Ichi…”

“Fuck.. fuck you feel so good.. sorry [name]”

He apologized before starting to buckle his hips against yours in a moderate pace, bodies flush against one another as his tip brushed the deepest parts of your insides. His head was hidden in the crook of your neck where grunts kept leaving his lips.

You felt so delicious around his cock. The way your walls clenched him. Your dripping cunt was so tight, he had a hard time moving in and out.

Soon enough his pace quickened and he watched you turn into a whining mess onto his cock, that slowly started bullying into your hole.

“ ‘ gona…”

He breathed out. His thrusts became sloppy as his hands grabbed your waist, mercilessly pushing you down onto him to reach the deepest part within you.

“Me too!”

You moaned out, fingers tangled in his hair as he continued pumping inside you.

Without any warning you reached your climax, followed by his own which he released deep inside you. With a few last thrusts to ride out his orgams he stopped, still sheated inside you, and collapsed on top of you.

Your arms shakily wrapped around him as you tried recovering and processing what had just happened.

“So.. I guess we’re a thing now..?”

“Seems like it.”

“Fuck. I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoichi.”

[7s3ven]

THE IDEA OF US. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… the saddest thing in a relationship is knowing you met the wrong person at the wrong time yet you still can’t let them go.

“She’ll be the best you ever had if you let her. I know it’s for the better.”

A/N : This took me at least a week to right, omg

Warnings : toxic relationship, swearing, ed (eating d1sorder) mentioned, mental illness, mentions of sex, dirty jokes, making out, y/n and theo are both bitches, vulgar language, angst

—

Y/N L/N and Theodore Nott had been good friends for years. And their families had known each other for much longer. Since childhood, the two had been attached at the hip and nothing changed when they were accepted into Hogwarts.

“Y/N.” Theo called out, jogging to catch up with the girl. She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you can’t copy my answers, Theo. I told you to do the homework yourself.”

Theo sheepishly smiled. The day he was supposed to be studying, he was at a party. Y/N was there too, though she had already completed all her assignments and could drink without a care. Y/N had always been the better at academics out of the two.

“Change of topic, are you going to the Malfoy ball?” Theo asked. Y/N almost scoffed. She had no choice and neither did he. If their parents were going, they had to as well.

“Duh. What’s the color of your suit?”

“Dark blue. Apparently I look better in navy according to my mother.”

“Debatable.” Y/N hummed.

“Your dress?”

“Also dark blue. Matching. Again.” Y/N sarcastically smiled.

They seemed to coincidentally match for every important event; this was the fifth time. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was accidental anymore considering their mothers always chose their clothes for these events.

Theo chuckled, “I think our parents are up to something.”

“You just noticed?”

“Well, sorry I don’t pay that much attention to people like you.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy undressing girls with your eyes to notice.”

“The only girl I’m undressing is you and I don’t need my eyes for it. My hands can do that for me.” Theo smugly smirked while Y/N’s face scrunched up in disgust. She pushed him, causing the brunette to crash into a nearby stone wall. He winced, which amused Y/N.

“Think twice before you try and get me in bed, Nott.”

Theodore Nott was a handsome fellow with his slightly curled hair, messy tie, and the smell of cigarettes blending in with his strong cologne. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Y/N wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing him. He was attractive after all but still her best friend. It was never a good idea to date someone you saw every day because once you broke up, it became too awkward to bear.

That wasn’t the only reason. The main reason were Theo’s eyes. His gaze was constantly bored and dead, even when he was around beautiful girls. He never showed emotion apart from the smug smirk Y/N liked to wipe off his face. If she dated him, would he still he bored? Showing appreciation was never his strong point.

Theo slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “I was thinking that since you don’t like potions and I don’t either, we could take a little detour. Sneak in a cig or two. Maybe even some forbidden romance.”

For two years, Theo had been playfully flirting with Y/N. Nobody batted an eye, already assuming that the pair had something going on. Y/N could still remember the first terrible pickup line Theo had used on her after the Christmas break.

Y/N was walking down the steps that led to the girls’ dorms. She adjusted her tie so it wasn’t choking her to death. Her blouse and skirt were a size too small because she, or rather her parents, had forgotten to order a new uniform.

She spotted her usual friend group consisting of the highest-ranking Slytherins all perched upon the couches next to the fireplace. As she waltzed towards them, Theo lifted his head and for a moment, Y/N swore there was a flash of emotion before it disappeared.

“Matt, have you seen Pansy? She wasn’t in the dorm when I woke up.” Y/N placed a hand on Matteo’s shoulder like she always did. He turned to look at her, startled.

“Y/N, I didn’t even recognise you.”

“Seriously, Matt?”

“What? You’ve changed a lot!”

“My boobs just got bigger.”

Matteo’s eyes flickered down before he nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Theo leaned over to smack Matteo’s head. “Stop staring at her chest, you idiot.” As always, he came to Y/N’s rescue, even when she didn’t exactly need it.

“Matteo was right, though.” Theo piped up as he walked Y/N to class. “You have changed.” He heard her laugh. “I’m serious. It’s the way you carry yourself, not just your face.”

Theo was her best friend but he had never been so… gentle with her. He fanned his face with his hand, loudly exhaling. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

It took Y/N a moment to realise what he was implying. She stared at him, unamused. “Never talk to me again.”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer.” Y/N uttered, “But not the romance. Stay six meters away from me.”

That’s how Y/N and Theo ended up in the latter’s room, sharing one of Matteo’s cigarettes and laughing.

“Okay, but seriously. How many cloaks do you think Snape has in his wardrobe.” Y/N asked as she took the thin blunt from Theo.

He blew out a cloud of smoke. “He changes? I thought he lived in one.” An amused grin spread across the Slytherin’s face. “How many students do you think have accidentally patted Mcgonagall thinking she was a normal cat?”

“Plenty, I’m sure.” Y/N turned her head, almost jolting when her nose brushed Theo’s. “Ew, why are you so close?” She said it teasingly, grinning at her friend who was strangely silent.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

In all honesty, Theo wasn’t having much luck containing the thought of kissing Y/N either. The first few years of school were purely platonic but once everybody started to grow up, Theo found himself in an unusual predicament; he had feelings for his best friend.

“If you want to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” It was another playful jab at Theo but with all the smoke rushing to his head, he took it literally. Y/N didn’t expect him to grab her by the chin, forcefully pushing his lips against hers like he had been starved of kissing, which she knew wasn’t true. She had seen Theo kissing a brunette girl at a party weeks ago. Yet he hadn’t kissed her with such passion.

Theo was the first to pull away, his chest heaving up and down. Y/N remained still. She parted her lips to say something but no word rolled off her tongue.

“Theo.” She finally said. “What was that?”

“I thought you were being serious.” He was still unbearably close, his strong cologne washing over Y/N and clouding her senses. “We don’t have to talk about it… but I needed it. Let me have this, Y/N.”

She had never heard Theo beg. It sparked a fire of warmth in her chest. “Ask nicely.” She muttered. Theo paused for a short moment before he thickly swallowed.

“Please.”

The moment the word slipped past his lips in such a delicate way, Y/N leaned forward. Theo tilted his head back as their lips met once more, hands clumsily trailing over each other’s bodies and holding their breaths to make the kiss last longer.

Theo felt ashamed that he was kissing his friend but in the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. All he could focus on was Y/N. She was practically on top of him, easily taking control while he was reduced to putty.

Y/N with her perfect hair and untainted uniform.

Y/N with her chuckles of amusement at Theo’s reactions.

She was all that occupied his mind. He repeated her name in his head like a mantra, never stopping until they were wrapped and tangled in his bed sheets.

They never spoke of that particular day but a new spark had been born; one that consumed both their lives. Everybody noticed the not-so-secretive looks Theo sent Y/N and the small shared smiles in between classes. Like old times, Theo never left Y/N’s side. He paid no attention to other girls, not when his arm was wrapped around Y/N as she laughed with Pansy and made fun of Matteo. And despite the pair silently vowing the incident where they ended up in Theo’s bed together would not occur a second time, it always happened again.

The holidays finally arrived and the pinochle event of the wizarding world was finally drawing in; the Malfoy ball.

“Where’s Y/N?” Pansy was the last of the group to arrive at the manor, holding a bag that contained her dress and her extensive collection of makeup.

“Coming later.” Theo said, running a hand through his hair.

The whole group had decided to meet at the Malfoy Manor to get ready. Everybody but Y/N. This wasn’t unusual behaviour for her; she always stated how she worked better alone. Theo almost laughed at the memory of how she’d always refuse to do group work.

“How do you know that?” Draco piped up.

Theo casually shrugged as if he hadn’t spent two hours with Y/N. “I saw her on my way. She’ll probably arrive when the event starts.”

Pansy pouted. “I wanted her to help me with my dress.”

“I’ll help.” Draco said a little too quickly. Matteo and Lorenzo snickered together, playing kicking kissing faces at the platinum blond.

“Oh, shut up you morons.” Draco hissed as he followed Pansy to the bathroom to help her. As soon as he was gone, Lorenzo and Matteo chose Theo as their new victim.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice a little romance thing going on between you and a certain H/C-nette.” Matteo coolly uttered, resting an arm on Theo’s shoulder.

Lorenzo subtly rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t noticed? It’s quite obvious.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Theo muttered, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah. That bracelet on your arm says otherwise.” Matteo fired back. Theo almost started cursing at him. He had forgotten how he jokingly slid on one of Y/N’s bracelets. To make matters worse, not only were her initials carved into the silver but so was her full name.

“Coincidence.” Theo grumbled, quickly pocketing the bracelet.

“What about you two always sneaking off? You love staying at parties until the end but lately, you’ve been disappearing. Into rooms. With you-know-who.” Lorenzo was ganging up on Theo as well, much to his annoyance.

“I’m not fucking Matteo’s dad.” Theo retorted.

“When I said you-know-who, I meant Y/N!”

“I know! It was a joke, Enzo!” Theo huffed, his gaze darting back to the large mirror in front of him.

“We hear you, by the way.” Matteo whispered. “The walls are thin and we have to hang out in Blaise’s dorm when the door is closed because we know what’s happening.”

“Oh, please. Please. Yes, right there.” Lorenzo mocked, copying the noises he had heard mere days ago. Theo’s cheeks flushed red.

“That’s not me.” He was already losing to Matteo and Lorenzo’s little game but he stood firm.

“Hm. Right.” Matteo didn’t believe his friend’s words for one second. “Well, I better get dressed. Guests will be arriving soon. Can’t wait to see your little principessa or whatever you call her in bed.” He walked off, cackling like a hyena. Only Lorenzo was left.

“Just confess to her, dude. She probably feels the same way.” Lorenzo matted Theo’s back before he followed after Matteo, needing to get dressed as well.

Theo found himself alone in the glittering ballroom, still waiting for his late companions. He swirled the champagne around in his glass in boredom, almost wanting to spill it on someone to watch their reaction.

“All by yourself, Nott?”

Theo didn’t waste any time in spinning around. “Y/N.” He stated. She was staring up at him, focused on his eyes like she always was. Sometimes Theo wondered if he could see the slight joy in his gaze whenever she was around.

“Where are the others?” She questioned.

“I’m not sure. Right now, it’s just me.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s good because I was looking forward to spending more time with you.” As if they didn’t spend enough time together as they were.

“Isn’t it funny how our mothers dressed us up in not only the same color, but the same shade, as well?” Theo grinned. “Same fabric too. Are they trying to tell us something?”

“What? That we should date?”

Theo deeply hummed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He placed his glass on a nearby table, his attention focused solely on Y/N. “The party’s just started so let’s find a way to pass the time.”

Y/N grasped his tie, pulling him forward. “You’re on, Nott.”

They found themselves in a dark and crowded room filled with old antiques. Theo harshly kissed Y/N, tightly gripping her waist. In the midst of the heated moment, three words that Y/N dreaded accidentally slipped past her lips.

“I love you.” She froze, realising what she had said out of impulse.

“That’s too bad.” Theo joked but his words still made her heart sink and she felt numb in the actions that followed their kisses.

Nobody was shocked when they returned to Hogwarts to find that Y/N, who never liked anyone, and Theo, who only engaged in casual relationships, were dating. It was expected because they hardly spent any time apart, which made room for romantic feelings.

Theo knocked on Y/N’s dorm door. Somehow, he had found a way past the charm placed on the stairs. “Hey, the Ravenclaws are having a party. Wanna go? The whole gang is going.” He stepped into her room that she shared with Pansy and two other Slytherin girls.

Y/N was sitting on a desk pushed into the corner next to a window, overlooking the scenery. “Don’t feel like it.” She muttered, busy writing an essay for who knows what. Theo faltered.

“Are you sure? Otherwise I’ll go with Mel.”

Y/N paused and she slowly glanced over her shoulder. “Mel?” She raised her eyebrows in a condescending way. “Who’s that?”

“One of Pansy’s friends but she’s cool. She’s the one who invited us anyway.”

“Okay.” Y/N turned back to her work without uttering another word, leaving Theo frustrated.

“Why are you mad?” He questioned, taking a step forward.

“I’m not.” The monotone sound of Y/N’s voice made it clear that she was. “You can go to the party, I don’t care.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“And I wasn’t asking you to bring up another girl.”

Theo clenched his jaw. Y/N had been in a jealous state for over a week. Every time Theo simply accidentally glanced at another girl, she grew mad.

He spun Y/N’s chair around, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t shove him away. He could smell her expensive body lotion and perfume as it washed over him. “What the fuck is going on with you?” He seethed, “You’ve been like this all week. I don’t fucking know what you want, Y/N.”

“I want you to stop paying attention to other girls. Easy.” She shrugged.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to look at other girls if you were more laid-back.” The biting words rolled off Theo’s tongue before he could stop them. Annoyance clouded his brain but he knew he’d come to regret it when he saw that glint of anger in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m asking for the bare minimum, Theo.”

He didn’t even know what she was asking at this point.

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes like she always did. “Go to the party, see if I care. Maybe Mel is more laidback than me.”

With a strong push, Y/N shoved Theo back. She walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Theo stood in the same spot for a moment, trying to register what had happened. He heard the faint sound of the bath water running; Y/N always had relaxing baths when she was stressed.

“Come to the party if you change your mind.” Theo called out in a futile attempt to make amends. All he got in reply was a loud hum.

Theo wasn’t too sure when their relationship went downhill. It was great for a while in the honeymoon phase until the arguments started.

Theo would scream at Y/N for not eating so she could use that time to study until her nose bled and she passed out from exhaustion.

Y/N would accuse Theo of cheating because he spent about as much time with other girls as he did with Y/N and his friends. It wasn’t his fault he was a heartthrob.

After every fight, they made peace and promised not to let their mistakes happen again. But they always did because history repeats itself until you learn from it. Perhaps Theo and Y/N were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t exactly match but you forced them to anyway.

“Theo.” Mel’s hand brushed his shoulder as she handed him a dark bottle of beer. “What’s on your mind?”

Mel smelled like roses and sweet strawberries while Y/N’s perfume was always addictive and deep. They were complete opposites but Theo had always preferred Y/N’s.

“Y/N.” Theo grumbled, taking a gulp from the bottle.

“She’s always causing problems.” It was not Mel’s place to say such a thing but she wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know. She’s been so paranoid and it’s just rubbing me the wrong way. She gets mad at me every five minutes, even for shit I don’t do. She’ll blame Matteo’s tricks on me.”

Mel shifted closer to Theo, their hands accidentally brushing. She smiled. “You’ve told me about all this before. Why don’t you just break up?”

Theo almost wanted to laugh. Him? Break up with Y/N? She was a L/N, a prestigious family that stood above everybody else. He’d need to have a death wish to leave her. The only way he could get out unscathed was if Y/N broke up with him or if it was mutual.

Mel’s finger trailed up his thigh and despite Theo giving her a look to stop, he didn’t grasp her wrist.

His stomach sank in dread as someone behind him cleared their throat. “Is “one of Pansy’s friends” now code for a new fuck buddy?” Y/N leaned over, her warm breath hitting Theo’s neck. He could feel the anger radiating off her. “Nice one, Nott. You almost had me convinced you’d settled down.”

Theo was up in a heartbeat, practically pushing Mel away from him. He raced after Y/N, who had already exited the Ravenclaw common room. She was now quickly pacing through the dimly lit corridors, no particular location in mind.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Theo shouted, his voice echoing. He was expecting Y/N to speed up but instead, she spun around and grabbed him by the collar.

“What were you doing with her, huh?” Y/N hissed, “Just because you’ve finally tied me down doesn’t mean you can go and not put effort into this relationship!”

“I was only talking to her!”

“Well, it didn’t look purely platonic! Her hand was on your thigh and you didn’t even stop her!”

“That’s just the way girls are with me! What am I supposed to do, huh? You can’t ban me from talking to other people!”

Y/N shoved Theo, “You are so frustrating! You never take anything seriously!”

“And you take everything too literally. I was just talking to her! Nothing else!”

“She looked like she wanted to fucking kiss you! And she was probably going to!”

“Everybody wants to kiss me! Where’s the problem in that, huh?! You kiss me!”

“The problem is you have a fucking girlfriend!”

“You’re the one always talking to other guys like some…” Theo spluttered, tripping over his own words in search of a retort. “Some sort of slut!” As always, he immediately regretted his words. Y/N’s face morphed into a look of fury.

“I have been loyal from day one!” She screeched, “The thought of cheating has never crossed my mind so don’t you dare call me a slut when you know the only person here willing to cheat would be you!”

Y/N and Theo stared at each other, panting heavily. “Fuck you.” Theo whispered.

“Why don’t you go back to the party and fuck Mel instead, huh?” Y/N wittily snapped back. The last of Theo’s calmness finally broke and he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, shoving her into an empty classroom and locking the door behind him.

“Mel is only a friend. She’s not my girlfriend, you are. I have never thought of cheating either and the fact you accuse me of it is preposterous.”

“Using big words now, are you?” Even in a locked room with someone who could easily throw her out the window, Y/N was making annoyingly smart remarks.

Theo spoke again, only it wasn’t in English. He angrily spoke in full Italian, yelling at her. Y/N had learnt a few words for his sake but she found it hard to keep up.

The fast words slipped past Theo’s lips and he paused, waiting for Y/N to answer as if she actually understood him. She awkwardly smiled. “Uh… Sì?”

“At least you know that word. Mel doesn’t know any Italian so who’s the better one between you two, huh? I’ll give you a hint. I like girls who attempt to learn my language.”

“So get Mel to learn it.”

“I love you, not her.” Theo insisted.

“It’s too late for that.”

Theo let out a quiet sigh as Y/N unlocked the door. She paused, waiting for him to call out for her again. He didn’t.

“Have fun.” She grumbled.

Theo ran his tongue over his teeth before he grabbed Y/N’s shoulder. “Every time we argue, we don’t try to resolve it. So we’re going to work it out right here, right now.”

“Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” Y/N sneered.

“See, that’s your problem. You’re insecure.”

Y/N scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn’t insecure; she was far from it. She was the most confident girl in the year.

“You get paranoid every time I talk to a girl. You’re controlling and you’re always accusing me of shit I would never do.”

“You cheated on your first girlfriend.” Y/N piped up, making Theo freeze. “What? You didn’t think I’d find out? Once a cheater, always a cheater, Nott.”

“So why’d you date me, huh?”

“You aren’t even going to defend yourself? I thought you were different because you were my friend. I thought you finally grew up but I don’t think you have. My problem is paranoia, yours is cheating. And don’t get me fucking started on the drinking and smoking.”

Theo clenched his jaw. “You wanna play that game, prissy princess? Okay. You have more than one problem. In fact, you have too many to count. You’re fucked in the head, narcissistic, you can’t fucking eat properly, and you think everybody likes you when in reality, we’re all waiting for your downfall. You aren’t as popular as you think. And the damn studying. You study so much that you get sick! Physically and mentally sick! You’re just setting yourself up for failure!”

“I warned you.” Y/N whispered, harshly poking Theo’s chest. “I warned you about me! I warned you about the mental issues, the eating disorders, the problems that will start showing! And like everybody else, you said “it’s fine, I’ll be able to handle it”. Then like everybody else, you want to back away the moment I show negative signs! Do you think I like being like this? Depressed, anxious, paranoid, starving, and barely able to eat?! Do you think I fucking like going to therapy?!”

“You may as well go to more sessions because you aren’t getting any better.”

“You’re an ass, Nott.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Did we resolve the issue like you wanted? Because if so, I’d like to return to my dorm so I can watch a movie with a love interest who isn’t a complete jerk and only thinks with his dick.” As always, Y/N was the first to storm off.

“You love my dick!” Theo shouted after her.

“Fuck you!” She pointed the middle finger at him without turning out.

Theo shoved his hands into his deep pockets, clicking his tongue. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, hoping it would fix his pounding headache. “I need a cigarette.”

Theo didn’t attend his classes the next day. And, by the looks of it and the remarks from Pansy, neither did Y/N. He stumbled across her in the astronomy tower, smoking one of her reserved cigarettes.

“You beat me to my spot.” Theo grunted, cautiously taking a seat beside Y/N. She didn’t shove him away. She only slowly blinked and nodded.

“You should go to potions.” She muttered, smoke seeping past her teeth.

They were both numb from their previous argument, too tired to fight again. Theo had stayed up all night, replaying Y/N’s words in his head and scolding himself. Y/N wasn’t any better. Pansy slipped her some vodka from the party and the events that followed after were hazed history.

“How’s Mel?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from being snarky. She heard Theo scoff.

“Fuck, you can’t stop bringing her up for even five minutes?”

There were no apologies in their relationship. Perhaps they learn it from their parents who, every time they’d argue, would gift them with lavish gifts instead of saying sorry.

“Why should I? You can’t stop calling me a slut.”

“It was one time.”

An awkward silence settled between the pair before Theo drew in a heavy breath.

“I love you…” He muttered. Y/N thickly swallowed, blowing out another mouthful of smoke.

“If you loved me, we wouldn’t be doing this. We wouldn’t be going back and forth, continuously fighting and trying to one up each other. We wouldn’t be trying so hard to make this work when we know it’s going to fail.”

A pit settled in Theo’s stomach. “Are you… breaking up with me?” The sadness in Y/N’s eyes made it apparent.

“Face it, Theo, we aren’t a good match. The only other reason we got this far is because of our parents. Our parents wanted us to never friends, our parents wanted us to date, our parents want us to get married. What about what we want? What happens if we do get married? It’ll crash and burn. We don’t work. No matter how hard we try, we will never work.”

“But… I love you.”

Y/N shook her head, “That’s not enough this time.”

The sudden realisation that Theo was losing Y/N caused him to cup her face, pressing his forehead against his.

“There’s a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving them.” Y/N mumbled, “Us? We love the idea of each other. We are constantly stuck on the “what ifs” of our relationship? The possibilities. We are so obsessed with this relationship because we created a different version of each other in our heads when in reality, those version of us will never be true.”

Theo rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. He knew she was only telling the truth but it still hurt. Maybe Y/N was the right person for him or maybe she wasn’t; all he knew was that they met at the wrong time.

“I love you too, Theo, but we have a problem even saying those simple words.”

Their breakup was inevitable once the arguments started. It was only a matter of time before the fighting became too frequent to ignore.

“So… this is it?” Theo muttered. “We’re finally breaking up?”

“We had a good run, Theo.” Y/N uttered, fiddling with her cigarette. She handed it to Theo, slightly smiling. “See you around… I guess.”

“You’re just… walking away?” Theo himself was cold sometimes but he didn’t expect it from Y/N. It was finally clear why she had been placed in Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw; she was as heartless as her friends.

“If I don’t walk away, Nott, then I’ll keep holding on when I know I need to let go.”

Nott. Y/N always called him that when she was angry or teasing him. She didn’t look angry this time, only sad. They’d see each other at meals for sure but it would never be the same because they’d no longer be holding hands under the table.

“See you at dinner.” Y/N said, her voice a hushed mutter. She feared that if she spoke any louder, Theo would hear her voice break and notice her glassy eyes.

“Yeah… see you.” Theo watched as Y/N walked off with no intention of chasing after her. He wanted to and it took all his power to fight the urges to hold her back. This was for the best. Theo knew he’d have to let go of Y/N eventually so that both of them could pursue a healthier relationship in the far future.

He’d always be thinking of her, though, day and night. He knew it’d be the same for Y/N because despite everything that had happened between them, they were still each other’s first loves.

Theo glanced down at the cigarette he held in his hand. He could see Y/N’s lipstick stain imprinted on it, the last reminder of the kisses they shared before it all burned down.

HP TAG LIST (comment to be added) : @jetblackpayne @rafeslittleangel @opheliamalfoy236

[deanssluvr]

JOOST WITH A GIRLY!READER HCS

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

content: RPF. sfw + nsfw. pre-established relationship.

a/n: randomly felt the urge to write this at 3am.

SFW

- your style was the first thing he noticed about you when you met. you were a pink floral dress and heels with ribbons that decorated your hair. he thought you were beautiful. you took his staring as something negative at first, but was relieved when he complimented your outfit.

- you were nervous to bring him over to your place, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the way it was decorated.

- one of his favorite dates with you was when you both went to build a bear. you had asked him to get matching bears with you to which he happily agreed. you both settled on getting frogs. his green and yours pink. you dressed yours like a princess and he dressed his like spider-man. at the end you both exchanged them, so you kept his and vice versa.

- you both send pictures of each other doing things with said stuffed animals. like he’d send a pic of him out shopping with it or you’d send a pic cooking with it.

- he noticed your love of decorating so he goes out of way to buy you things that reminds him of you. whether it be little trinkets, a stuffed animal, or a record that he thinks you’d like.

- you have heavily influenced his style since he’s been with you.

- he always handles your stuffed animals with care. talks to them as well.

“how do you think she looks?” he looks down at the stuffed bunny in his hand and nods as if listening to a second opinion. “me too. i think she looks beautiful.”

- he enjoys sitting and watching you do your makeup and skin care routine. likes seeing how much care you put into it. there are a few times where he asked you to do his makeup. sometimes it was just simple eyeliner, but he loved it.

- on that same note you asked if he wanted to do a face mask with you one night and his face lit up immediately. now every once in a while you include him in your skincare routine.

- he lets you paint his nails a new color almost every week and always lets you pick the color. sometimes he just matches with whatever color your nail set is at the time.

- ties your shoes and buckles your heels for you without asking.

- you never pay for anything while he’s around because he never gives you the chance. dinner? new clothes? a piece of jewelry you looked at for only a few seconds? he’s already got his card out for you.

- he sleeps better at your place. it’s mostly because of you, but also because of how goddamn comfortable your bed is. the thick soft comforter? the many fluffy pillows? the pink sheets? he’d always fall asleep quickly in your bed.

- enjoys taking baths over showers with you. loves the scent of your soap you use and the bubbles you put in it. loves the way your hands gently wash him.

- learns how to do your hair. watches so many videos and asked you one day if he could do it. you spent the day doing your hair with him. he looked so concentrated and you found it so sweet.

NSFW

- he is obsessed with how you look in your lingerie sets. he loves the way the delicate lace and satin looks on you. he’s always hesitant to take it off of you.

- although he loved everything you wore, he had to admit that you in skirts were always his favorite. maybe it’s because your legs just look so good in them, or it’s actually because he loves thinking about how pretty they are pushed up your hips while he fucks you from behind. who knows?

- he turns your stuffed animals around whenever you both fuck. he told you it’s because he doesn’t want them to watch.

- he actually prefers having sex at your place though he never tells you. your bed is just so comfy with all the pillows and soft blankets that you layer on it.

- nothing but praise. even when he’s pounding into you harshly or fucking himself further into your throat, he’s still whispering sweet praises into your ear.

“so pretty taking my cock like this.”

“fuck, you’re so perfect”

“you’re doing so good for me schat.”

- loves the way you say his name. you could just be trying to get his attention and he’d melt at how his name sounds on your tongue. but he especially loves hearing you moan his name when your fucking. how desperate you sound for him almost brings him over the edge every time.

- won’t admit it, but the way you smell turns him on. when you hug him or simply just sit next to him and he could smell that perfume that he loves, he’s already getting hard.

- eats you out like you’re his last meal. would do it for hours if he could. prefers giving you head over anything. just loves the way you taste and even more so the sounds you make.

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.

I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?

If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.

It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.

Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”

“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.

“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.

He was pretty, even when he cried.

“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”

“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.

“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.

Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.

You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.

Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.

If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Thirteen

PREGNANCY / AFTERCARE / ROLEPLAY (@absurdthirst)

Starring: William ‘Ironhead’ Miller x F!Reader

Summary: After making you cum multiple times and then doing the thing you thought he was joking about, Will is going to make it up to you.

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: No use of Y/N, one swear, fingering, mentions of sex and squirting, Will being a softie.

Word Count: 1.7k

Will wasn’t one to panic and it wasn’t that he was panicking, he was just concerned, deeply concerned.

He’d admit, he’d probably gone a little hard on you… scrap that he went hard. He couldn’t help himself, with all of the talks he was doing for the military, it felt like years since he’d last seen you even when you’d told him it was a month tops. All that time, he had been thinking about you day in, day out, and all the things he’d do to you when he got back.

He just didn’t think he’d do them all at once.

Date night was like any other for the pair of you. Will was his calm and collected self, you were excited to finally have him home, to be holding his broad hand as you walked down the street to the restaurant he’d booked.

The whole way through dinner when he became playful. You were practically playing footsie with him under the table and if you were distracted by anything other that wasn’t him, his fingertips would come to any piece of skin he could touch.

It was unusual but you couldn't complain.

His hands were already on you the moment you stepped through the door. He pulled your body to his, his platinum whiskers tickling your neck as he nuzzled in. The warmth of his palms sunk through your clothes, goosebumps already raising to the surface of your skin. You spun on your heels, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

“Will,” your words were soft.

But he was immediately grabbing your ass under your skirt, boosting you onto the cabinet in the hallway. He placed you gently onto the wood before he turned rough, pressing his lips squarely into yours until you couldn’t breathe.

Your desire travelled down, your juices pooling between your thighs and it’s as if he could sense it. He pressed two fingers directly on your clit, catching the whimper that escaped in his hot mouth.

With his free hand, he yanked your knickers to one side and dipped a finger into your entrance. He worked you until you could take another and then another until your arousal spilled over his digits and your body vibrated.

He didn’t stop there.

Carrying you to the bedroom, he threw you onto the mattress and continued to bring you to orgasm over and over using his fingers, his tongue and his cock.

And that’s how you got to where you were now.

You were motionless, every limb heavy and the only way he could tell you were definitely alive was through your short shallow breathing.

“Baby…”

The stroke on your back sent a shiver down your spine.

“You alright?”

Your groan is muffled by the soft bedding underneath your weight, each stroke of his hand making your body tingle until the aftershock came. He saw how your thighs shook and flinched back, heart twinging.

He was worried about you.

“I’m gonna get some supplies.”

He’s pretty sure you nodded.

The mattress rocked as he got off the bed, the sound of him finding some sweatpants and pulling them on before he left the room, his footsteps disappearing.

Everything he had done brought you so much pleasure, your body genuinely filled with warmth and love but fuck, were your muscles protesting. You were too scared to lift up your head, your face remaining pressed into the sheets to stop the room from spinning. Your mind was fuzzy, unable to think of anything more than him.

Yet you couldn’t be angry, he had gotten you to a state of pure, unadulterated bliss you’d never felt before. It was just unfortunate that he’d had to do the thing he thought you were joking about to get you there.

In the kitchen, he assumed you were mad, scrap that you were probably furious.

He assumed you’d have wanted something nice for your first date since he was back, instead some primal instinct consumed him and well, he didn’t think he’d shove his thumb up your asshole either.

But once he had, he didn’t quite expect you to unfurl the way you did.

Your asshole was tender, you squeezed and relaxed it a few times to solidify the discomfort you were feeling. Will had threatened to do it so much in the past, you guessed it would turn you on, just how much you never knew.

When he forced his single digit in there, you didn’t expect your walls to clench so hard, you’d thrust out his cock. Didn’t think you’d squirt all over his lower body uncontrollably, the rest of you convulsing, speaking utter gibberish as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

He tapped his index finger on the countertop whilst the kettle boiled.

The cupboards had been raided for anything and everything and he still doesn’t think it’s enough to make this right. The tray he normally used to serve breakfast in bed was filled with snacks both good and bad for you. He had milk slowly heating on the hob, drinking chocolate in a mug, and was waiting impatiently for water to put in a hot water bottle.

You wondered if he would freak out to find you still laying here so you braved rolling over.

The chilly evening air started to reach your exposed front, the fine hairs beginning to stand, your nipples growing hard yet it was such a relief.

“Thank god, you’re alive.”

You manage to open your eyes, the ceiling holding it’s position.

“You tried to kill me,” you say breathlessly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve brought something to make it up to you.”

Your head snaps up and he presents the tray to you.

“Yay!”

He notices how you try to raise your arms, they only list a few centimetres but at least you have a smile on your face. Walking around the bed, you follow him, head falling from side to side to watch what he’s doing.

He kisses your forehead, “Just getting the last few things.”

You look near your right foot and gaze upon the abandoned tray, your tongue flicking over your lips. Will has cut the fruit meticulously, dealt sweet treats into little dishes and when you turn your head to the bedside table, there’s a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

Everything just out of your reach.

He reenters the room to your grunting as you struggle to move.

“D’you need some help?”

You flutter your lashes, “Please.”

He chuckles, joining you on the bed, fluffing up the pillows ready for you to rest on. Tucking his hands underneath your armpits, he lifts you up like you weigh nothing, hauling you into position with your accompanying giggle.

Climbing out of bed, he steps towards the puddle of clothes on the floor, plucking his shirt from the pile. He helps you put it on before reaching for the tray and positioning it on your lap, immediately you take a chunk of apple.

“I really am sorry,” he brushes the hair from your face. “I dunno what came over me.”

He places the hot water bottle low, the subtle heat soothing the ache between your legs.

“You don’t have to apologise, it was really good.”

Your mouth salivates as the sharpness of the fruit hits your tastebuds and you smile at him sweetly as you chew.

“Even the thumb?”

You laugh as you swallow, “Even the thumb.”

The weight falls off his shoulders as he wraps an arm over yours. He draws you closer to his frame and you sink in, finding the strength to draw your legs closer, making yourself comfy. His free hand reaches for the remote, switching on the television just for some background noise.

You pick another slice of apple and bring it to his lips, he takes a bite, your finger approaching his mouth. He sucks in the last of the fruit along with your digit, sucking the flavours from it. The temperature rises in your cheeks and you snatch your hand back before swatting him in jest.

“Don’t you start.”

He couldn’t help himself, you made it too easy.

Once you had eaten what you could and downed your hot chocolate, the heat settled into every inch of your body. Will hugged you near, his hand sliding soothingly over your waist, his chest rising and falling in a slowing rhythm.

Your eyes were getting heavier but before you fell asleep, he squeezed you.

“Let me clean this up.”

You didn’t want him to, grumbling in disapproval. You felt his smile in your hair and the he kissed your crown, easing away from you.

Collecting everything, he carried the tray to the kitchen and left it on the side like he’d planned. When he returned to you, you were sitting on your heels, playing with the hem of his shirt over your thighs.

He tipped his head to the side, not saying a word.

“Would you clean me up too?” You ask timidly.

Coming over to you, he holds out a hand. You take it, slipping off the bed and allowing him to escort you to the bathroom.

He fetches a new face towel, running it under hot water as you perch on the edge of the tub. Crouching down, he lifts up one of your legs and places your ankle on his shoulder, his soft blue eyes gazing up at you.

You spread yourself wider, presenting the mess of dried cum, small bruises decorating your inner thighs were he had once bared his teeth.

His touch was gentle, wiping from bottom to top in methodical strokes.

Once finished, he placed your foot on the floor before asking you to turn around. You do so, resting your knees on the tiles, arching your back for him to get a better look. He parts your butt cheeks apart to inspect your puckered hole.

You twitch when you feel two fingers approach, calming down as he rubs cold cream over the area. A light tap comes to your ass after you lean into his touch then came a kiss, featherlight before he got up.

He guides you back to the bed, opening up the covers for you to get in.

Climbing in on the opposite side, Will shuffled closer, his arm draping over your stomach. His hand curled under your ribcage, pulling you into his body. You form your body to fit snuggly into his shape, the heat of his breath seeping into your crown.

He grew heavy, cocooning you into a cosy sense of security, a simple reminder of why you loved having him home.

[reysdriver]

His & Hers | S.B.

part 2 of Wife; you and Sirius go on a bonding (and very flirtatious) shopping trip — sirius x fem!pureblood!reader fluff

warnings: reader has just recently escaped an abusive, pureblood family, sirius and reader were in a young arranged marriage

words: 1.1k

It took a little bit of time, but once it really set in that you were going to be staying with the Potters for at least a little while, you were forced to think about what else you needed with you.  When leaving your own dreadful home, you had packed and taken off in quite a rush, neglecting many ordinary things. 

Euphemia promised to take you down for a shopping trip down at Diagon Alley. You really didn’t want to inconvenience anyone so you tried to tell her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted the family had been meaning to take a trip there anyways—even though you could tell she was just trying to make you feel better. 

You went along with it, so here you were now in Diagon Alley with a list of things you needed to get back on your feet. 

James went off to browse the newest Quidditch equipment in stores, his parents went to run a few errands around the alley, but Sirius insisted on staying back and shopping with you. 

You could feel him peering at the list over your shoulder, and your suspicions were confirmed when he started reading it aloud. “Quills, paper, toiletries— Love, I know the Potters have all of that and they’ll be more than willing to share.”

You had been getting closer over the last few days, but the nickname still sent a flock of butterflies loose in your stomach every single time. The both of you walked into the second hand store and the butterflies got worse when he opened the door for you. 

“I’m sure they do.” You responded. “But I don’t want to be dependent on them. No offence.” 

The last part was teasing, but he would never take the bait like that. 

“None taken, actually.” Sirius said proudly. “The Potters are all lovely people.”

“If you love them so much, why don’t you marry them?”

You were trying hard at this point to tease. At least it seemed like you were getting a reaction now. 

“Well, I don’t know.” He chuckled. “I mean, I could start with the fact that I’m already married.”

Your jaw dropped as you feigned shock. “You’ve been married this whole time? I can’t believe you, Sirius Black.”

You admired how he played along. He rolled his eyes and his mouth formed a small smirk. 

“I know, I can’t deny I can be a player sometimes, I’m sorry.” He ran his hands along a frilly dress beside you. “Actually, I don’t even know why I’m here with you because my wife is pretty great.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and pretended to look at some skirts so you wouldn’t fold immediately. “Yeah? Tell me about her.”

“Where do I even start? We were actually set up by our families, but it may be the only thing my parents ever did right. She was the fittest girl in school even though I would never admit it at the time, she’s way too good for me, she even ran away from her horrid family and came straight to find me. But there is something…” He sighed like there was something huge he needed to get off his chest. 

You tilted your head to the side and decided to travel down whatever road he was heading. “And what might that be?” 

“Well, a few things actually.” And your interest was piqued even further. He picked up a thin scarf and started waving it around dramatically as he spoke. “First is that I have no idea if she even likes me back, and second is that she’s only been living with me for a few days and she’s already made it abundantly clear she intends on getting her own place—”

You cut him off there, grabbing the scarf to stop its movement. You were both smiling at each other as he moved with the scarf when you pulled it closer. 

“You’re making this wonderful wife of yours seem like she hates you.” You softened, and your attention switched to the half-used rolls of fabric on the dusty shelves. “I already told you, I am getting my own place soon. And if we get closer and decide that our marriage was a good idea, then you’re absolutely free to move in with me.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that to happen, but there was no way you were going to tell him that right now. 

“Look!” Sirius got your attention, holding up a soft, barely-used roll of fabric. “We can even get some ‘his and hers’ robes made from this stuff!”

“I think matching housecoats is just a thing for couples.”

His eyebrow raised and he looked down at you like what you just said was completely ridiculous. “And what’s the problem?”

“You and I aren’t a couple.” Obviously. 

“Well, that can be changed easily. I think it’s about time we go house hunting together.”

You rolled your eyes, and started walking down the store’s aisle, away from Sirius. He was absolutely not going to see you blush as you told him this next bit. 

“You at least have to take me on a date if you want to buy a house with me.” 

He followed where you walked. Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew that stupid, annoying, super sexy smirk was back on him. 

“This isn’t a date?” He asked. 

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really. You supposed it sort of was a date. It was just the two of you here, and the way you talk isn’t quite how people talk to each other when they’re just friends. You could really only think of one defence in favour of it not being a date. 

“You never asked me out on this date. You have to ask someone to go on the date for it to be a real one.”

Sirius threw his head back dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a loud sigh. 

“Will you make this a date with me, love?” 

He held out his hand, asking you to take it and make this a real date like you had said. 

Putting an end to his anxious suffering, you placed your hand atop his and intertwined your fingers. 

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Sirius.” You told him in mock defeat. “Now pick up that fabric you liked. If the date goes well, I’ll think about having those robes made.” 

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝country boy and his clown❞

⟶ phillip graves x oc/reader

⟶ cw. graves babygirl confused, funny banter, shadow boys, aloof OC, lots of jokes, third person <3

⟶ note. this is basically my little drabbles collection that will accumulate into a long story at some point about my OC Leech xd she's also the ones in all the other MW2 fics i've written

everyone likes that new girl. all the boys were drawn to her and graves can't believe the god damn sight of it all.

on the first mission the damn girl had her little portable gaming device, graves didn't catch what it was called. she whistled as she played whatever game on it. graves felt a fuckin' tick itching on his face from the clicking and tapping.

"shut that god damn thing off, fucking hell."

the girl sighs, putting it into her cargo pocket. "Sorry, Commander." she listens well, at the very least.

graves walks over to her and within an instant she stands up and salutes him. "What they call ya'?"

she's a new transfer, a sort of trade off with a friend. graves needed someone like her but her age was somewhat of an issue, not that young but maybe not old enough to know the ropes of an elite company.

"leech."

the fuck? grave left a migraine forming in his head now. "what?""

"leech, sir."

"got a backstory for that one?"

she laughs, "of course, i would never pick it myself. bit some guy's carotid off during my first deployment—i swear i didn't drink his blood though—"

"i didn't think that," graves sighs, pressing his fingers between his brows. "continue on then, sergeant."

"yup yup."

she catches on quick.

──────⊹⊱♝♜⊰⊹──────

"get this thing open!"

she sighs, tapping away at her little computer in her crouched form. "look boss, you've given me 2 seconds how about you give me 10 more seconds and maybe—oh, look it's open, you're welcome."

graves can see this girl making him lose his will to live. but he was no patient man and well, she was far too chill and nonchalant for this type of work.

when they get inside she's on the computer right away, jamming combinations of numbers and symbols to get what he wanted from this place.

"yikes, lots of porn on here."

graves almost snaps his neck turning to her. "what?"

"joking, got what we need." she pulls out the drive from the computer and pocketing it. she pulls her gun from her side back into her hands. "time to find out way out, commander."

──────⊹⊱♝♜⊰⊹──────

"i don't think i've met anyone more annoying." graves admits.

shadow 1-1 laughs, "boss, she's pretty cool and she's cute."

"she's funny, she said her callsign was because she ate a live lizard on the field—" shadow 1-2 mentions.

hes interrupted by 1-1, "wait what? she told me it's because she was sucking on her military ex-boyfriend's dick one time in the barracks and she accidentally cut off his foreskin."

"that's a fuckin' lie, if i've ever heard one."

1-1 takes offense, "yours sounds more fake than mine."

somehow this makes graves grab his head, what the hell has this girl been doing to my men. now it makes him doubt if the story she told him was even real.

she ponders, pursing her lips, "sir, i told you the real story—it's just fun telling all the boys different shit, they all go around tellin' each other the wrong thing and it's funny when they all get confused."

the girl looks around aimlessly, seemingly waiting for him to say something. "alright, you're dismissed. see you tomorrow, leech."

graves sighs in his office, the girl in front of him now dressed in a more business attire even if her skirt was far too short and the buttons her shirt were on wrong—the sheerness of that top too, jesus christ could she not afford a shirt didn't look like a piece of tissue? he could see her bra straps through the damn thing.

"are ya' lying?"

"maybe."

[onlybeeewrites]

Music of The Night

Requested: sort of :)

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just some fluff

Word count: 1.63 k

Part 3 of the Valley Song Series: Part 1 -> Part 2

Tag list: @v-love @stinkii-boii

It had been a few days since that day at the lake. It was an amazing rest of the day as you and Sejanus spent a whole more underneath that tree, talking. You learned a lot about each other in those few hours as the conversation came almost too easy.

You had learned a lot about Sejanus. He was not just any Capital boy that volunteered to be a Peacekeeper, but he used to be...is...from the Districts too. District 2 to be specific. You learned that his family became stupid rich after the war, bought their way out of District two. Though you had to admit to yourself that it was impressive, to have so much money. To have enough to buy your way into the Capital. You honestly never thought someone could have so much money.

And then he told you about the Capital, how he never really felt right there. That he felt so helpless. Especially with the Hunger Games. His disgust with the inhumane treatment of the tributes. And that was why he was there. To actually make a change, and you watched his eyes light up as he told you his hopes of becoming a medic.

It was then when you had realized that Sejanus Plinth was like no other boy you had ever seen nor spoke to. His words the passion behind them all, the genuine meaning behind his eagerness. Sejanus Plinth was too good for the cruelness of the Capital, of Panem.

And as you told him about yourself, Sejanus thought the same thing of you. You had told Sejanus a similar story that Lucy Gray had told Coriolnaus when they were speaking about thier background.

How you all traveled around the districts performing before the Peacekeepers came. Your parents spoke up along with Lucy Gray's and within minutes they were all shot. Leaving all seven of you orphans.

You, of course, always gave everything to Maude Ivory, your little sister while Lucy Gray kept look out for you.

You told Sejanus about your performances, how they were when Lucy Gray was gone, and how happy you all were to see her come home. You spoke about how you did not quite like the front stage like your sister and cousin. You had much preferred the backup.

Lucy Gray had been trying to get you to be more confident with your voice and performances, you were absolutely lovely after all.

And by the end of the day, while the summer heat was cooling and you all packed up and made your way back to the Seam, you and Sejanus were truly and quickly smitten. Even Maude Ivory was teasing as the Covey and the two peacekeepers split off for the night.

Though now it had been a few days since then, and you haven't seen nor heard much from Sejanus. Though you couldn't blame him since you knew they always were rough on the new peacekeeper. You were sure that he would show up at one of your shows at some point.

However, what you weren't expecting, was a soft few knocks on your old creaky home. You and Lucy Gray were the only ones awake at such a late hour.

You usually couldn't sleep, at least not easily, and Lucy Gray's nightmares from the arena made it difficult for her too. So usually, as of lately, you both would keep each other company until your eyes grew droopy.

You shared a concerned look with Lucy Gray. Who could be here at such an hour? It was late and most of the District would be asleep by now, especially where they lived. The only ones who would be awake would be the peacekeepers that would be out on patrol.

Swallowing nervously, Lucy gray got to her feet and brushed off her skirt before slowly peeking out the door. You watched as her body relax and a grin on her face with what you could see.

Hushed whispers were exchanged, though you couldn't place your finger on it. That was until Lucy Gray nodded, and left the door open just a crack.

"It's for you. Here," she said passing you your mother's old cardigan before shoving you to the door. "Be careful, don't be out too late." she teased.

You looked to your cousin in confusion as you slipped on the old faded cardigan and made your way to the door. "Lucy Gray what are you doing? Its too-" but you stopped in your tracks as you finally see who it was at the door.

"Sejanus..." you said, feeling your face heat up as you softly shut the door behind you. As you look him over, you notice his peacekeeper's uniform, his rifle slung on his shoulder. He must have been on patrol...did he come all this way to see you? The thought of it made your face heat up.

"Y/N.." Sejanus said quietly, softly, shifting where he stood as he was able to finally see you again. Though it took some convincing of Coryo to allow him to sneak off for a little while, it was well worth it to see your beautiful face in the cool moonlight. Just the thought made his stomach flutter.

"I wanted to see you. They've been on our asses about training and patrolling....but I just wanted to see you again. I saw the light in your window and hoped you were awake. I was wondering if you wanted to have a late night picnic with me...if you're not too tired." he asked.

And that's when you noticed the little rucksack he had tucked away. It wasn't much, you couldn't imagine he was able to sneak much out. Unless he had already prepped and stashed it away somewhere. But the thought that he had come all the way out there to ask you to a midnight picnic made your face flush.

"Of course. How can I say no to that? C'mon," You say after a moment, a large grin spreading over your face. You took his larger hand in yours and tugged him off to the meadow.

There was close enough to return home if needed, but still allowed you both to have some privacy.

"How's this?" you asked.

And what a sight it was. The full moon was shining down over the field, reflecting off of the flowers and some dew drops already forming.

Sejanus smiled and nodded, "It's perfect," he said as you two settled down. He placed his rifle off to the side, though still in reach. Just in case. And once you settled he untied he cloth and residing were his mother's cookies. Your eyes widened as you looked up to him.

"How did you mange to get some of these?" You ask excitedly, picking up one of the cookies and taking a deep inhale. "Smells amazing." you say before taking a bite and letting out a satisfied sound. "Hmm...taste amazing too,"

Sejanus laughed as he took a cookie himself, "My Ma made them. She likes to bake, always has. And she likes to send them to me. Reminds me of home." he explained as he took a bite.

Your eyes and expression softened, "Well," you said after chewing, "My compliments to Mrs. Plinth. my favorite baker in all of Panem," you declared.

Sejanus couldn't help but smile, "I'll write to her and let her know she has a fan," he mused before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

The sounds of the nightlife continued to fill the air as the minutes passed. The sound of the wind and soft chirping of the crickets filled most of the silence. Some birds, maybe some owls called out into the late night.

"Thank you for this. It was awfully nice of you," you said after a little while.

Sejanus smiled and nodded, looking over at you. "Of course. I wanted to do something nice. I don't exactly always have the time but....you're worth making time for." he said.

That caused you to flush and glance at him, admiring him in the moonlight as well. The way the silvery beams reflected in his brown eyes, making them almost shining. And the way he was looking at you...damn the way he was looking just made you want to kiss him.

Sejanus swallowed nervously as he stared back at you. The way the moonlight was shining in your eyes and hair, he swore he had never seen someone so beautiful. Slowly he reached up, using his thumb to brush away some crumbs that settled on your lips.

It was now or never.

"Y/N....can I..." Sejanus barely got the words out before you almost too eagerly nodded. He took a nervous breath before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a small sigh as your eyes fluttered closed, slowly wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. The feeling of his lips sent butterflies to your stomach, electricity through your skin as his lips fit rather perfectly against your own.

It had be a dream the way it was all happening. You had never thought that you would feel this kind of emotion again...not after...him at least. But here you were, kissing he cutest boy in all of the Districts.

The two of you pulled back once you felt that burning in your lungs, needing some air. And you did, though you pressed your foreheads together keeping each other close. You looked up adoringly into his eyes before you both started just laughing as you both realized what had happned.

It was almost too perfect as the two of you sat here for a little longer, enjoying your time together, listening to the symphony that played through the trees for you.

[mickstart]

Re your last askventurine about Ratio getting injured: Now I want to see Ratio's reaction to Aventurine's violence and him not taking care of himself. I imagine it must be a very powerful moment for Ratio to see Aventurine reacting so badly, even if intellectually he already knows Aventurine really cares for him. Also Ratio waking up to an Aventurine who hasn't showered or brushed his hair in days and still thinking he's beautiful,,,,🥹

ASKVENTURINE.... I'm calling them that from now on holy shit that's so much power you've just handed me.

God thinking of before the english TL butchered it and Ratio's join team line with aventurine was basically "don't worry about me, take care of yourself" you KNOW he hates aventurine putting himself in danger for his sake and he lectures him about over-exerting himself and being foolish. (Whilst he himself is on a fucking IV drip.) They are both as bad as each other about it both just constantly telling the other to stay safe and not worry about them...

Ratio has probably never had someone WORRY about him tbh, and not just bc he lacks close relationships anyway. He's always been so smart and capable that nobody has ever fussed over him. He was probably so independent that even his own parents didn't worry about him in the small ways other parents do. They never had to check his grades, never had to comfort him, never had to kiss his scraped knees better because he just scoffed and told them kisses aren't medicine. People just expect Ratio to be fine. Like there's never any doubt. So to have Aventurine's obvious worry? I don't think Ratio knows what to DO with it. I think he awkwardly avoids talking about it tbh. The same way he skirts around his own obvious care for Aventurine.

But like. He does have to talk about it eventually because Aventurine's life flashed before his eyes. He's kind of blaming himself for not getting the shield up quicker, and he's finally realised the sheer extent of how much he cares about Ratio, so he's not just going to let him bitch and complain his way out of talking about it. He's going to apologise with shaky hands until Ratio holds them and tells him he's fine, and he loves him. (Because he does have to admit: having this proof of Aventurine's feelings makes it feel... safer to be open with his own feelings.)

And also I think he enjoyed seeing Aventurine - always so composed, so good at hiding his intentions - absolutely NOT fucking around for maybe the first time, taking no gambles or risks, just shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY. Aventurine's always throwing himself to the whims of fate and getting lucky again and again and it drives Ratio crazy seeing him risk his neck like that. He stays back from the fight, throws up a shield and lets the enemy come to him. But this was Aventurine angry, taking control because he's not willing to gamble Ratio's life. This was Aventurine wearing his heart on his sleeve. Nobody has seen him be so open about his emotions since his sister. Ratio feels privileged to have seen it. Even if he was bleeding out at the time and it's hazy in his memory to the point he's pretty sure he hallucinated Aventurine's boss form.

(Also it was. Kind of hot. And Ratio wants out of this hospital bed asap so aventurine can destroy him like he destroyed those monsters.)

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Character: Indiana Jones

Warnings/Important info: Fem reader, implied English or at least has been to Oxford University. Angsty, miscommunication.

Notes: I watched Indiana Jones the other day and obviously my first crush never leaves because young Harrison Ford as an archaeologist adventurer is just *chefs kisses*

It's bizarre really, potentially concerning, worrying to a degree, that after 5 years you know the back of his head from a glance. Suffice to say you try not to draw attention to yourself when you recognise who stands mere meters away from you talking to two of his students about antiquarianism.

Maybe you should have expected it, after all Henry Jones seemed to have a way of haunting you. Maybe you should have been prepared to see him, despite assuming that the United States was so vast that your move from the University of Oxford to Marshall College as a newly qualified Doctor of History would certainly not guarantee seeing him. Perhaps, it was the Moirai, the fates, trying to test your resolve or simply coincidence.

But, after five years without a single letter, a single telephone call or telegram, you certainly weren't keen to stick around and have a conversation with the man. Besides, you had lectures to teach, students to help, papers to grade (okay, maybe not the last one considering it was in fact the very first day of the academic year).

It is with a sharp back peddle that has you careering into a pair of students behind you with a clipped apology that you make your daring escape and it is a surprised call of your given name that has you freezing, turning about face and responding with a strangled "It's actually Dr. Y/L/N now."

"What? I'm not allowed to call you by your name anymore? Guess you've already recinded the right to call you Honey Bee too." There are students stopping to watch, what feels like the entire student body eager to watch the new History professor and the most loved Archaeology professor at each other's throats. A mystery arising from their familiarity and a curiosity at what history lay between the two. You certainly weren't eager to put on a show.

With a flick of the wrist you smooth down your skirt, turning on your heels and walk away calling out to him, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Dr Jones." It leaves Indiana gaping in the centre of the quad, watching the sway of your hips and the click of your shoes on the pavement as you leave him behind.

You choose to ignore the bubble of anxiety it puts in the pit of your stomach all day. Your lectures help to distract you at least somewhat from the reality that your former...you're not even sure what to call him...something, is present and working at the same university as you and you briefly wonder if it isn't too late to go back to your job at Oxford. You're sure Professor Haylett would let you come back, you might need to grovel a bit but...perhaps that was preferable to the potential mess that was being in close proximity to Henry again.

The last time you'd see each other, he'd been a 27 year old Archaeology professor. Young, dashing, charming, with every student at the University of London eager to please him and hoping the American would give them extra attention. You had been a 23 year old History PhD student, one of the few women allowed to do so, after much hard graft and determination. You had refused to let anything or anyone distract you from your studies, from your goal...and then you'd been told that he could help you with your PhD, that he had some specific knowledge on the Battle of Syracuse that you could use and...you'd found yourself suitably distracted. You would be being bitter and unfair if you didn't admit that in the year you'd known him he'd helped you with your thesis immensely...but he'd also put your reptuation at risk, broken your heart and made promises that he never would fulfil. Your mother was right...romance was certainly a tricky business.

You're so frazzled at the end of the day that you don't even recognise that your office has the lights on, if you had, you would have stopped before entering, instead you bulldozer your way in and stumble at the sight of him sat in a chair waiting paitently as if he wasn't phased one bit by your reappearance in his life.

"So, Honey Bee, you gonna tell me why I get such a frosty reception?"

"Yo-The absolute...I cannot...ugh!" You find yourself unable to stutter out a complete sentence as you slam the door shut, it reverberating on its hinges. "You have some nerve, Henry Jones! As if you don't bloody know!" You storm around him, putting the hard wood desk between the two of you and shuffling papers to keep from looking at him knowing he'd melt your anger in a second just with a smile.

He always had the most ridiculous ability to placate you and you wanted to feel angry today, not soothed like a skittish horse or malcontent cat.

"Sweetheart, if I knew I wouldn't have asked!" It's the silky smoothness giving away to frustration that causes you to look up, your bottom lip shuddering under the weight of the sadness that sits in your chest, old feelings that you thought you'd processed and put to bed coming to the surface.

"You promised..." He's silent, confusion deepening as you take a deep breath and begin to pace back and forth behind your desk, agitation growing with each movement. "You promised to write me, to call or send a telegram and you never did. I...I waited to hear from you and I heard nothing. So I am dreadfully sorry, Henry, if I do not feel particularly like pleasentries or intimiate nicknames in front of an entire cohort of students! I have had to earn my place and I am still fighting for respect and no man, one who doesn't even honor his promises, is going to ruin this for me!"

You are breathing heavily, body warm, shoulders rising and falling with every agitated movement of your lungs as he looks down at his lap. Silence falls between you for so long that you turn to look out the window of your office, at the street lamps with their warm glow, the last few students wandering across campus as evening sets in.

"I did...I wrote you." His voice is low, quiet, the sort of quiet that Henry Jones never was, so quiet in fact that you turn to check he actually spoke.

"I wrote every day for three months...half of it was stupid, five lines about my day or a single sentence to say hello. I wrote for three months, sweetheart."

"Three months?"

"Three."

"But, I never...how...if you wrote for three months then how on earth did I not receive a single one!" You're unsure if you believe him, at the same time you never knew Henry to be a liar and it...it boggles your mind. There's an impending sense of your world teetering on it's axis, emotional whiplash as you feel a soaring sense of hope, yet a feeling of disbelief, fear, all rolled into one.

"I don't know, honey, but I wrote for three months to 21 Hanover Street and you never wrote me back so I assumed...I assumed you'd moved on, found yourself a nice, sensible husband and gotten married!" There's an anger that you'd never noticed til now, a sense that he'd been hurt to, that he'd felt like you'd abandoned him. So far removed from the debonair, rakish persona he so often displayed.

"21 Hanover Street? You wrote to 21 Hanover Street?"

"Yes, goddamn it!"

"Henry...I lived at 12 Hanover Street."

"What?"

"I lived at number 12, one two, not two one. 12!" It is so absolutely absurd that you can't help but start laugh rather hysterically. That you felt abanonded all these years, angry, resentful, heartbroken and he'd simply gotten the wrong house number, a stupid, ridiculous mistake that had broken your heart into pieces, only to reforge it again.

"You're telling me that for three months I was writing to the wrong address...?" Henry is out of his chair, rounding the table and closing the distance between you so fast that it makes your head spin...or perhaps that is the effect of the emotional journey you're currently experiencing.

"I'm afraid so..."

"Goddamn it...well, shit, honey..." There's a pregnant pause as your eyes scan his profile, the frustrated set of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the familiar bend of his nose. He's not changed, not really. He's older, more lines around his eyes than last you remember, and a few more grey hairs, but then you're older too. Your first grey hairs finally settling in, the soft baby fat of your face having melted away somewhat over the years. But, he's still Henry and you're still the busy Honey Bee he used to chase around the library to the chagrin of the librarian. Things haven't really changed, you realise. With the removal of the one point of hurt between you, you can acknowledge that you still love him without the weight of anger or heartbreak pushing it down.

"Henry?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Kiss me." It makes you laugh against his mouth how quickly he follows your request, the scrape of his stubble against your skin an old, familiar sensation that you'd all but forgot. It was like coming home, so familiar that it sent a sharp stabbing sense of yearning into your chest even as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him.

The woodsy smell of his cologne surrounds you, the familiar tweed of his suit jacket scratches your arms, the soft strands of his hair through your fingers, the press of his nose against your cheek. It's like there hasn't been five years since you last kissed, like you hadn't been so angry with him up until five minutes ago that it hurt.

God, and to think, you'd nearly gone your entire life thinking he'd never cared. All because he'd mixed up two simple numbers.