#god let me build myself from the ground up

[snottybody]

I was raised atheist but being trans has really gotten me into the story of creation and god’s teachings around loving yourself and others. i’m not saying I’m religious but wouldn’t that be kind of funny if I could say learning to love myself is what made me religious? That would piss off so many god-fearing bigots, and I’d love that.

[awearywritersworld]

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure

gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.

you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.

he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"

you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"

"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"

"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.

you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.

~~~

some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.

when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.

"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.

"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.

after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"

there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"

your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.

"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.

rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.

you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."

"p-promise?"

"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.

gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.

gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.

~~~

the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.

you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.

he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.

your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.

gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.

he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.

he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.

~~~

leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.

you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.

crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.

"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."

gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.

"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?

"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"

he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.

he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"

god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.

i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.

"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."

[barefoot-joker]

Against Heaven and Hell~Yandere!Adam X Reader X Yandere!Lucifer

Hello, everybody! Welcome back to my Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation! Today I bring you a Yandere! Adam vs Yandere! Lucifer story. I think this one turned out alright but let me know what you think. As always, enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 1972

Warnings: Swearing, Adam being Adam, Car Crash, Contract Signing, Kidnapping

I bit my lip as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. The girls and I were going out tonight and I wanted to look my best. It had been a few months since we’d seen each other after all. I smoothed out my black and red plaid pants and fluffed my black dress shirt. Deciding I was presentable enough I walked to my kitchen. I grabbed my keys off the counter, put on my black bomber jacket and black boots, and walked out my apartment door. I locked the door behind me and continued my way to the elevator. Hitting the button for the first floor, I found myself tapping my foot as I waited.

Ding!

The doors opened and I walked out. I headed to the parking garage to the left of my apartment building and walked up the few flights of stairs to my car. Since I was the designated driver I made sure a few days before my vehicle was nice and tidy. I put on some tunes as I drove down several blocks before arriving near the center of the city. I parked on a side street and pulled out my phone, texting Ashley that I was ready for them. I scrolled through social media for a few minutes when there was a tap on my window. I looked up and saw Ashley, Shiloh and Tiffany standing there. I unlocked the doors and they all got in. “Hey, girl! Long time no see!” Ashley, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a tight hug.

“It’s nice to see all of you too. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.”

“It really has. But no time is like the present as they say!” Tiffany piped up from the back seat. 

We all nodded in agreement. “So, where should we go?”

“How about Tito’s? I heard they have a $3 special going on tonight.” Shiloh said.

“Tito’s it is then.”

With that I started the car and drove further into the city. We arrived at Tito’s around 7 pm and after parking the car, walked inside. The bar was quite busy that night with many couples sharing tables and others taking to the dance floor as a live band played. The four of us took to a booth across from the bar and ordered our drinks. The girls had gotten some classics like a gin and tonic, old fashioned and Manhattan while I just had my favorite soda. I was the designated driver after all. We sat and chatted for hours, and it soon was 10 pm and my friends were wasted. I struggled to carry all of them to the car as they giggled drunkenly, grasping onto me tightly. ��Oh my god, Y/n! You’re so cute, you know that?” Shiloh said, giggling slightly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I had to lean Tiffany and Shiloh against the back door as I struggled to put Ashley in. “Stop, Y/n! That tickles! Stop!”

I grunted as I managed to get her in with her seat belt on. Quickly I rounded to the back of the car and started to get Shiloh in. Tiffany slid to the ground and started to laugh uncontrollably. This was going to be a rough night.

It took about 15 minutes but I had finally gotten everybody in the car. I drove everybody back to Ashley’s apartment and started to unload them into the hallway. “Y/n, please stay. We can like have a big sleepover!” Ashley slurred.

“Sorry, honey. I’ve got work in the morning. But I’m sure Tiffany and Shiloh wouldn’t mind your company.”

I leaned down to the “Welcome” mat by Ashley’s door and grabbed the spare key. Unlocking the door, I dragged in all three girls. I placed Ashley on her armchair and Shiloh and Tiffany on the couch. Once I made sure they were all cozy, I snuck out before they could grab onto me. I made sure to replace the key under the mat before I walked back to my car. 

The drive home was a bit chaotic. There were lots of people on the streets wandering around due to it being a Friday night and night life was hopping. I was placed out of my thoughts as my light turned green. I was in the middle of the intersection when suddenly my car was struck on the side by a much larger vehicle. I tried to regain control of the wheel as my stomach clenched, however, the car began to flip. I couldn’t even get a scream out as another car came and smashed into the front of mine. I could feel the car being slid across the road before slamming into a building. My head flew forwards and smacked into the wheel before flying back. My vision was doubling as I heard faint screams from the street. Just as my eyes began to close, I could have sworn I saw golden wings descending from the sky.

Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel warmth around me. It didn’t feel like a blanket or anything more like the Sun beaming down upon me. I slowly opened my eyes only to be blinded by bright light. Everything seemed to be overly saturated as I looked around and the gentle humming of violins filled the air. I sat up with a groan and held my head, a slight dull pain hitting it. What happened?

Suddenly, a set of double white doors flew open and revealed a tall, large man in a white, gold and purple robe, a demon looking mask on his face with black horns scraping behind his head. Beside him a smaller female with a black and white devilish mask, gray dress and white and black wings stood. “Ah good, you’re finally awake, babe.”

“Who are you?”

“Adam, first man. Autographs are extra, sweetheart. And this is Lute, my assistant.”

I just stared at him. What in the world? “Um, I hate to ask, but where am I?”

“You’re in Heaven, toots!”

“H-Heaven? You mean like Heaven and Hell Heaven?”

Adam’s yellow eyes rolled. “Duh! What other Heaven do you know of?”

My hands touched my chest and then my face. If I’m here does that mean-

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then how’d I get here? I thought only dead people saw the Pearly Gates?”

Adam’s smile grew wide and the sight of fangs alarmed me. “I may have pulled a few strings to get you here. Please hold the applause. You can thank me later.”

“Um, okay.”

“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

He snapped his fingers and the two left. When the doors closed, I took a few moments to breathe. What exactly happened? All I could remember was driving back home from Ashley’s apartment, getting into a huge car crash and golden wings descending from the sky. Could that have been Adam? But then did he know I was going to get into a wreck? Could angels predict that sort of stuff? 

I shook my head and stood up from the bed I was on. Looking down I was in a light blue medical gown and my feet were bare. Was I in a hospital back on Earth? “You almost ready in there, babe? It’s been a while.”

“C-coming.”

“Not without me I hope.”

I stopped before the door. Did he say what I think he said? Whatever.

I opened it and stepped out. “Finally. Now come on, toots. Let the first man show you around!”

Before I could say anything, he slung a tight arm around my shoulders, and we walked off. 

Heaven wasn’t quite what I expected. It was almost like the city I lived in just without what would be considered sin. Every angel smiled and waved as the three of us walked by and it was almost sickening how happy everybody was. “So how do you like Heaven, babe? Does it surpass your expectations?”

“I guess. I wasn’t really expecting to be here. How did I get here again?”

“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we’re together! Especially now that you’ve got a real man in your life!”

“Sir, you said you’d hold off on that information.”

“Oh what’s the big deal, Lute? Toots will be stuck here anyway.”

I stopped walking and the two turned to look at me. “Stuck here? What are you talking about? You said I wasn’t dead.”

“Not yet. But as soon as my favor goes through then you’re all mine, sweetheart.”

“F-favor? Are you going to kill me?!”

“Eh, sacrifices need to be made. But I can assure you my dick is good.” He winked.

“Get away from me!”

I bolted as fast as I could. “Lute, grab her!”

I could hear the flapping of wings as I continued to run. Just as I was rounding a corner, I could feel myself falling. It wasn’t fast but more like floating back to Earth. The light around me dissipated into a grayness and I felt myself land softly.

My eyes flickered open and it took me a few minutes to realize I was in a hospital room. I sat up quickly and looked around frantically. I couldn’t see any angels around, so I leaned back in bed. A knock sounded at the wooden door and in walked a short man with blonde hair. He had on a white dress shirt and red tie, white pants and black boots. He stopped by the side of my bed and a pleased smile graced his lips. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I thought you’d never wake up. You were in a coma for a few days.”

“You are?”

“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Dr Morningstar at your service. You were in quite the accident, little lady.” 

“What happened?”

“From what we were told it was quite the fatal car crash. I’m not sure how it happened, but it seems like Heaven willed it to occur.”

He grit his teeth when he mentioned the glorious upstairs. Odd.

He went back to smiling at me and I couldn’t tell if it was the lighting, but his eyes appeared red. “The most important thing is we get you better. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.”

“Oh, I’m not married.”

“I see.”

His gaze dropped to my hand and I became uncomfortable with how long it lingered there. “Well, I’d better let you rest. I’ll be back later to check up on you.”

He bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. What is with today?

Over the next few weeks Dr Morningstar helped me recover. My friends came and visited a couple of times which was nice. I was told I could go home at any time soon. It was late one night when Dr Morningstar came into my room. “Alrighty then Y/n, I have your discharge papers right here.”

He handed me a stack of paperwork. “I just need you to sign the bottom.”

“Of course.”

I did as he said when suddenly the lights started to flicker. The room slightly shook as Dr Morningstar suddenly summoned a cane with an apple on top. “W-what’s going on?”

“You my dear, just signed your soul to me.”

“W-what?!”

“I didn’t want to trick you like this I promise, but it needed to be done. Adam was getting too close to you.”

How could he know about Adam? 

“The douchebag spilled everything to me, trying to make me jealous I guess. But sad to say, you’re now mine.”

He walked closer and I attempted to run but was met with a whack to the head. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

My eyes couldn’t quite process the six wings and horns that my doctor gained as they closed.

Everything faded to black.

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 7

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt8

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)

Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.

Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.

TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).

His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.

"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.

"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside. 

The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.

After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.

"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.

"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.

"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side. 

"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.

The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly. 

"Let me help you with that." He stated.

I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.

"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."

"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect. 

Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front. 

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."

I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding. 

"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.

"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.

The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned. 

"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.

"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."

"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking. 

I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"

He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.

“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.

He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”

“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”

His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.

“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.

I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.

“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.

I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.

“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.

Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.

He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.

“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.

The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.

“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.

“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.

“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.

“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.

This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.

“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.

I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.

“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”

This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.

“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.

I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.

“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.

“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”

He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”

He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.

I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”

“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.

He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.

“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”

I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.

“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.

The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.

I snorted, “That could have waited.”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.

As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”

I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.

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[sleepy-fiction]

Got a crush- got a crush- Crush you all beneath me. ⚗️

Jinx x F!Reader SMUT

3k WORDS

tgs: intense violence, erotic asphyxiation, water sports, bdsm, knife play, powerplay, masochist reader, oral, cunnilingus, sexual repression, religious terms/oppressive religious language, reader is shit and pathetic its lovely

syn: Jinx spares you before your death, the adrenaline, the ecstasy, its euphoric. You re-emerge bright-eyed like the first oracle of a God. Only this time, you want to eat God's cunny, and she'll let you.

an: hii err questioning myself with this one wow. this takes place in act 2 of arcane s2, jinx is rumored to be older bc of a possible time skip between act 1 & 2, but jinx is early 20s in this fic. I wanted to write something freakalicious and get back in touch with my weird side. mildly proofread

Smeech's gang had been your home since you were little. You were born into it, your parents' loyal followers, devout, and strict as they came. The rules were engraved into your brain, defined like the Old Testament. You were linear, closed-minded, and point. Your parents died in the battled post silco. Your neighbors, the other kids. The gang's numbers were dwindling, if not by death, then by them abandoning the cree for others. And the years went by. Your silent, dormant hatred for Jinx muddled up.

It continued until her little revolution, where she gained her little blue headed cult following. You'd be lying if you say a part of you wasn't swooned. But your revenge called for more.

What they called "Safety". No, it was nothing but plain blameless sin.

And you were put on this earth to eradicate it.

So it only came natural after Smeech's disassembly, for the gang to disemble themselves as well. Like a ghost town, you found yourself being the only righteous one holding up the banner. And if A^2 + B^2 = C^2, you were going after the women responsible for it.

No.

THE woman responsible for it all.

Jinx.

Blue eyed, blue braided, soon to be blue bellied, Jinx.

Jinx was a flithy mongrel, poisoning Zaun from the inside out. Her almost physiological poison bubbled out of its bloodied cauldron and frothed onto the deep floors of Zaun. Like a thick and heavy smoke blinding the ground, sucking the souls out of sinners, and blinding even the most powerful. Tempting, and as small as an ewe lamb, yet brewing and seizing like an unruly urchin. Baring pretty pale hips, milky white skin smothered in tattoos. And those eyes. Those round doe eyes.

They kept you awake at night.

Tempting.

They made you shudder.

With the bloodlust you had been building for weeks, weeks until the day your holy vengeance struck from the skies. With the last remaining loyal souls with nothing to live for, other than the fragments of Smeech's impressive legacy.

Yet why.

How.

How did things end this way.

Your body seized the moment your very own blades, the one you fantasized about taking the life of Jinx, was twisted deep into your belly. Your eyes flashed white, your gasp deep and profound, your balance suddenly no longer mattering to you anymore. The surprise attack was going well, well, until Jinx drew her devilish strength from hell and slaughtered your gang like animals. And you, being brave enough to stop her, freed her of all her guns. You fought like chickens, scratching and scraping at each other, throwing rocks, tossing dust, kicking crotches, pulling hair (you mainly), all until you had her.

She was pined beneath, whimpering and blabbering useless mantra. You revved your blade. But you stopped. You had to tell her why she deserved this. Your speech you had prepared before vanquishing this world of evil. Your glorious speech of Smeech and your gang. And unbeknownst to you, that was more than enough time for her to flash bright magenta eyes. And whimper a sound so attainable, your breath locked, and suddenly, for no reason at all, you had an urge to piss.

That one second of weakness.

No.

She turned your speech against you, she built up her bewitching tactics, disarming you and filling you with mercy, all for her to drive your beloved knife, your knife that your parents made you, deep, deep into your belly.

Then those doe eyes sharpened and she laughed.

She pushes you off her like you were nothing, your body hitting the wet dirty floor. It was raining, and glory's pellets dribbled woefully onto your cheek. Your breath was broken up into sharp, unattainable gasps as you meekly tried to crawl away. Your vision shook white in a painful mix of adrenaline, pain, and panick. Panick thick enough to make you spit and froth out the corners of your mouth.

Your body was ringing, brazen silver alarm bells loud and sparky in your ears. The flashing of tree roots and veins in your vision, and how sharp your sense of smell suddenly became. You could smell the muddy streets clearer than day, and even the smell of cotton candy and battery acid death pouring out from her body. A smell that, even now, still made your lower parts clench.

"Ha-! Ahaha-ha," she laughs. Her voice echoes. In your shaken vision, you see her rise before you, blurry bright cyan blue blinding. Pitifully, you crawl backward, desperate to flee death. Once Jinx has you, she never spares any mercy. You knew that going in, but never, never did you believe it'd become a reality.

You were going to become another number on an ever growing list of people who thought they could kill Jinx and failed.

Once that settled in your brain, pitifully thick tears sprang out from your eyes. You cried loudly, a wail strong enough to shake the most powerful souls. A wail so primal, so childish, a wail that stemmed from early development yet also the evolution of humans itself- the last cry of a dying homosapien at the hands of a bloodlust driven Neanderthal.

A cry that was stopped by the quaking footsteps of Jinx. The booming, sloppy, wet footsteps filled with the vibrations of her getting closer. She fell on top you with a cadence, a gust of quick wind as she straddled you. You gasped and reached forward blindly, raindrops falling in your eyes and mixing with the tears as you clawed at her jaw and neck.

She didn't care. She grabbed your left wrist in a vice, hard enough for you to cry out like an injured lamb. And with her other hand, she gripped your face and trusted hers into your view.

She spoke, "You feel that?"

You gasped, your breathing erratic.

"You're going to die," she laughed at you. "You're going to die, and you almost had me! Not even my sister got that close!" Her voice is like a wicked hyena. Gravely and strained from the battle, creaking to show her physical pain.

But it was enough. It enough for your body to grow limp in her hands like a frightened goat.

Your eyes bare into her face, your head uplifted by her tight hands. As you stare at her skin, as pale as powder, eyes as tired and jaded as a wilted flower, and smile as deranged as a wheel on its last hinge.

She smiles, growing ever close, closed enough for your noses to touch, and for her breath, the mingle with yours, "You know. At this stage. You're suddenly aware of everything around you. Your vision goes to shit. But you can still hear the little birds go 'cheep-cheep-cheep', and the rain-- 'pitter-patter-pitter-patter'. And you can't quite feel the pain, but it's the fear of knowing it's coming that gets you." She grabs the knife, twisting it slightly.

You jolt, crying out in agony. "Your heart rate spikes, you begin to hyperventilate. And there's this ringing in your ears... And... My favorite part, the buzzing behind the eyes," she says as she reaches and stretches your eyelids back. Your pupils shrink, and just as she says, your body systematically begins to follow. Snot pools down your nose, a tell tale sign of your inability to get oxygen. "It's totally useless how we have a nose and mouth. But yet they get so scared and they start working against eachother! Just like families... Just like gangs... like rats," she hisses, and you can feel the etchings of her lips near your cheek as she loopily giggles towards your ear.

"You know, if you breathe through your nose, your hyperventilating will stop," she smiles. Eagerly and foolishly, you obey, shutting your mouth instantly and sucking in gifts of air. But just as instant as you gain it, you lose it within seconds. Jinx pinches your nose shut, her thumb and index vicious like the jerking bite of a shark.

You panick, you eyeballs ringing. And as you try to open your mouth again, she drops your head, ot crashes to the ground, and she slams her free hand to clamp your mouth shut.

"Nhahaha," She laughs. Oh, she laughs. It's manical in nature, enough for you to wet yourself in pure fear. Your hands shoot up to claw at her hands, albeit weakly, and it feels nothing more than a massage to her. By now, you're aware of the warm wet clinging your shirt has to your belly, your pants to your crotch, and the flavorful blend of urine and iron in the wet muddy air.

Your vision spots.

She releases you, but it was already much too late.

"You know what," she says. Her voice trails in and out in your ears. Her blurry figure rises, "I think I'll spare you... That is, if you don't bleed to death out here."

Your head sags, catching the final glimpses of her limping away before it all fades to--

You jolt awake with a hard start. You shoot up, blinded by white lights that eventually shimmer down to a familsr room, your hideout. Your heart bursting a hundred miles an hour out of your chest. It was the feeling of shimmer running down your veins like a cold shower.

Instantly, you recognize your old partner, Kilo, rushing up to you from their seat in the back. Their hands grab yours, but you're even quicker to smack them away. "What t'hell! I was supposed ta-ugh die," you blabber out, spit flying in your jittery rage. Your hands grip your head of hair, your heart racing painfully.

"I heard about your dumb plan, and I came to save you, (y/n)! You had been laying there for God knows how long--" They say but you cut them off with a deadly glare, "Why are you mad? I saved you! Listen, God, you just need to calm down," they pleaded, burning their doe shaped brown eyes into your skull. Eyes you used to find allu ng, before they abandoned Smeech.

Smeech.

Dammit.

Did it really even matter anymore.

Dammit you can't fucking think straight.

How much shimmer did they use on you?

They reached again for you, and you smacked them harder, as hard as your jittery body could manage. They were as thick as a barn, burly and bearded, so your shove did nothing to them. But still, you powered up, barely making out of your bed before you knocked into your bedside table and cracking into your lamp.

As soon as you stood, your heart rate spiked, causing a brilliant gasp to leave your body. The kind of gasp they've only ever heard you release in bed. The kind of gasp that was filled in nostalgic ecstasy, the pain was so reminiscent of when Jinx--

Fuck.

No. Please God no.

"Are you okay," they asked. And with one look from them, you knew that they knew.

They knew.

And they were judging you with those pitiful eyes.

"Jinx did a number on you," they tried to whisper, but you seethed like a jackal.

"Jinx did nothing to me! I am normal! I am fine! I haven't changed," you screeched. Your face was warming, your heartbeat was painful, but memories of your last encounter flooded your brain.

You were going to die in the marvelously sinful hands of Jinx. But she spared you. It made every part of you tingle. You didn't notice when your partner sprang up to catch you, and you as hell didn't notice you falling forward. No, but what you did notice was the worry in their eyes. The worry in their deep masculine voice. And the devil horns springing out of their head.

They knew.

They knew and they were going to tell everyone.

"Get the fuck out of here, bastard!"

You yelled it with all your heart and soul.

And within seconds, you notice their heart crumble. Bleary brown eyes only complimented the flicker of guilt that panged you.

You just.

Needed them gone for good.

You collapsed moments after they left you, moments after the door quietly shut.

You were never going to see them again. They weren't just a partner they were your best friend.

And Jinx.

Jinx was brewing in your heart.

And you knew it then.

You were becoming something you never knew before.

⚗️

You'd imagine Jinx's surpise when the little runt she spared weeks ago came crawling deep onto Silco's old zone (now turned her streets), fully armed. What she thought was a foolish revenge battle turned into something else.

Sevika dropped you dead onto your knees before the desk in Silco's office. Your hands were bound behind your back, and Sevika had already stripped you of all the weapons you had. She walked up to the desk, where the back of Silco's chair faced you, and dropped all the weapons onto it. The daggers and guns flattered and shined in the light.

A dry, crackling laughter sparked into the air. A laughter you knew was hers. It made you tingle again. It made the bruises Sevika left you in all the more worth it.

You were shivering from withdrawals. Jinx withdrawals, adrenaline withdrawals, shimmer withdrawals. You needed her to make you experience that death spark again.

Please Jinx.

"Are you dumb or something," she asks. The chair finally spins to face you, her feet clashing against the table. Her face ridden with withheld rage. She blinks in disbelief with an agape mouth. She jolts forward, grabbing ome of your daggers and launches it towards your face. It narrowly dodges your eye and slices a thin scratch into your cheek.

You hiss and laugh.

It irrates her instantly. Her eye twitched. For the first time in forever, Jinx experienced the stress felt Silco once before. The stress of dealing with idiotic subordinates.

And for once. She didn't find it fucking funny.

"I spared you! But you come back with an even dumber plan. What? Did you think you could just waltz in here and slice me up," she asks. You laugh. She clenches her jaw. With an aggravated start, she jumps out of the chair, stomping on the desk as she slides off it in one quick athletic gesture. In seconds, she's on her feet crouching before you, squeezing chunks of your cheeks between her fingers. "What are you thinking," she spits.

Her grip is vice. It makes your eyes water. But you tingle and shiver all over.

"Mmh. Look at those pupils. You're on shimmer. Or- well, off it. What? Did the jitters make you think you could take me? Reclaim your honor," she says.

"M'hehe..mh," you giggle.

She bares her teeth. She drops your face and stands at break neck speed. Your head crashes to the floor, and you hear the familiar sound of a click.

"Everything about this is stupid and makes no sense. Your plan before was beautifully executed and thought out. So why... Why are you," she winces before she can finish her sentence and pinces her temples. You can hear Sevika cackle in the background. You peek up, staring up the barrel of a pistol. "Geez toots... I might get withdrawls next if you don't- I'dunno, say something," she says.

"Mmh... Jinx... Jus' just kill me... Jinx," you gasp out. Your nose aches, a perfect compliment to the ringing from your ribs from taking a robotic punch earlier. "Kill me... And it'll all be... like it was supposed to... Another number on the "anti" tally," you murmur. Not even you know what you're getting at. Why you're here.

Her heel touches your head. She's purposefully digging it into you. "Aah- haa," you shake.

Sevika gasps sharply, "Oh?" Her eyebrows quirk knowingly. Jinx turns to her, but Sevika merely smirks. "I'll leave you to it," Sevika hums, her shoulders slumping as she steps out. Jinxs eyes flicker with wilderment. Sevika lowered her guard. Totally.

They both knew you weren't a threat. But here, that small gesture confirmed a lot to Jinx. You were harmless, you didn't want to die, but you wanted to be around her. No. You wanted her to hurt you. She tests the waters. Jinx's muddy shoe pets down your head, its light not to hurt you. You buck and shiver again, blabbering out heedless.

No.

You didn't want her to hurt you.

When the realization dawned on her, a breathy cackle split the air. "Ooh! Oh god this is too good! What's that little runt," she squats right down next to you, flipping you onto your belly, "you want me to play with ya? Oh, daddy'll play with you toots."

"Wait- that's not what I what I w-want you to kill me! My honor! I lost it in battle, and i-it can only be claimed in--"

"Nn'haha! You really believe that? Oh god you're a riot! Say it. You want Jinxsy to touch you... And err... Ya'know! Take you to p-town. Play with your cunny?"

You felt an electric jolt sink to your clit. One strong enough to shut you up. Your eyes flicker to her crotch, where her legs were spread as she crouched.

"Ooh," she caught it immediately, "you want my cookie instead, eh?"

You gasped in horror.

"Or box? Is that what the kids call it nowadays? Box... Box... I always wonders why, but," she says as she pushes Silco's desk out the way and sits down in the chair, spreading her legs wide, "apparently! It's called a box cause you can stuff it! Myahaha! Ain't that something?"

You stare blissfully at her spread legs, painfully aware of your slick oozing.

She pats her thigh. "Well? What's the verdict? I'm not pulling my pants down till ya tell me ya' want it. Say it cute-like! Oh Jinx-jinx-jinx-jinx! I want your cookie wookie! Pleaase'z," she drags it out, saying it sing-songly to fuel your embarrassment.

You blabber in disbelief, "Buh," and gulp, "B-But why. Why are you letting me?" You sound like a shy child.

"Why dya' think I spared you? You're pretty hot. And... I liked being handsy with you. It felt good... Gooder than usual... Hah! Prolly cause your whorish, sensual aura stunk up the place. All that temp'TIT'ous-humbo-jumbo! N'ahaha... God you-"

"Please, Jinx," you whimper.

She returns, "Hey. I already told you. We're not unt--"

You squeak, "Let me... Eat it..."

"Huh? Is that how you ask -"

"Let me eat your cookie," you say. She gives you a bland look. "Uh," you gulp, "Please Jinxsy... Let me eat your- c-cookie. Wuh... Wookie."

She laughs, "Tehe, you got it dollface!"

this wasn't ever about smeech, was it?

⚗️

"Ooh... ff-fuck dollface," she mewls breathlessly. Your hands are still tied tight behind your back, balancing wobbly on your knees as you bury your face deep beneath Jinx's bare, pale, milky legs. Your nose is buried deep into her cunt, your tongue and lips viciously lapping at her clit. Twitching between sucking and tapping it. She was swollen already, a clear sign of her sexual negligence.

No, part of you is convinced she is a virgin. Jinx bucks into your mouth, gripping chunks of your hair. Her leg twitching, barely missing kicking your shoulder as it flies off the seat it was propped up on. She let's it slump over your shoulder. And you almost cried at how far her hole was now from your greedy lips.

You growl, "Jinx put your other leg on me... C-cant suck all of you like this."

"Uhh... Hmm," You're sure she was only half listening, but still, she lazily hunches down and stops her other leg on your shoulder. She adjusts herself and leans slouches downward more, sitting on her upper ass and pushing her cunt straight onto your face in the process.

You snuck in deep sniffs, the smell balanced, tart, and salty. You slurp up her folds into your lips, pulling and letting them slip out between your lips. She hisses and mewls delightfully, an airy cackle leaving her lips. She taps your head with two fingers and bobs her head rhythmically, a delighted hum squeaking from her lips. You giggle humored, licking a stripe up her, slowing down to enjoy the moment.

She's staring deep into your eyes, grinding against your flat tongue, slowly matching your rhythm. Your rhythm was closely following the one she hummed and drummed on you.

It was odd, how calm it all suddenly became. How you couldn't seem to look away. You wanted to please her so bad.

A ferocious shiver sparked down you again. You locked in, cupping her clit in your lips, suckling and tapping against it. You buried yourself into her, erratic and fanatic, slurping all of her like it was your last dinner. She squeaks and bucks into your mouth at the sharp change, bowling out her moans. "Aah- ff... Oohh, dollface-ugh," she whines. Her arms fall out, one landing on her forehead, her index and thumb propped up on it, rolling her head back into the chairs cushions.

Her bucking became erratic, her moans spiking, her grip on herself becoming undone. As she reaches with her free hand again to grab chunks of your hair at the root. Her cunt is pink and pale, littered with pretty hair. But your bullying turned it a vulgar shade of red. A red you'd wear on your lips any day.

"Aah! Ah! Aaa-mmgh," she barks out. Her thighs clench vice around your neck, her leg spasming before finally, "Oouh," she janks your head away from her pussy, gasping and waning in the chair.

Her eyes rolled back, while senseless blabbering drooled out her lips. "Mmht... D-Dollface," she sighs blissfully.

"It's (y/n)," you murmur and lean back in to peck at her swollen, ruined pussy.

"(Y-Y/n)?" She gulps, her eyes never returning from their blissful heaven beneath her eyelids. "Mmh yeah... (y/n)," she mumbles, half listening. She sighs after a few seconds, finally looking down at you and- smiling? It was a soft one, geninue and pure.

She asks, "What else can you do?"

"Mmh... I want... to feel good too," you murmur still pecking her pussy and inner thighs.

"Hmmmrr.... Alright. Let's get you fingered up."

"N-No... At the same time as you... Let's grind on our thighs... er like how they do in those... Brothels."

"Ooh what? You mean scissoring? Ha, is this your first time with a woman," she barks a laugh.

"Is this your first time ever, Jinx?"

"Hey," she commands, her face twitches. She shoved your face back into her lips. "Don't get smart with me. You're still my doll," she hums.

"M'forgive me," you mumble out, with pussy between your lips. That was all the answer you need. You slowly begin to suckle her again, hearing her breathy moans pour in.

"Mmh yeah... Let's go to my room..."

⚗️

😁

[glorismorningstar]

IMAGINE: YOU'RE LATE TO THE VEES' HEADQUARTERS ON EXTERMINATION DAY

"Four calls," VELVETTE said as she paced around the living room, running a hand through her hair as she tried to keep herself in check. She had given you a strict schedule to adhere to for today, and the worse has happened. You're late. "Four fucking calls and she hasn't picked up. Where the fuck is she?"

"Y/N's a big girl, Velvette. She's ten minutes late, it's not the end of the world." Vox thought he was doing good, but it only made her more agitated.

She turned on her heels to face Vox, hands firmly on her hips in an attempt to calm herself. "What the actual fuck are you saying? Do you know what time it is?! We have exactly one minute before the angels get here, and I swear to God that if she's not in here by then, I'll go out there and fetch her myself!"

"Before you make any rash decisions-" he couldn't even finish the sentence before the cries of terrified sinners and demons reached their ears. Velvette jogged to the clear window and smushed her face against the glass to look for you in the midst of the chaos.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She gritted in frustration as she felt her breath shudder and stutter, eyes desperately scouring the streets for any sign of you.

Her phone rang and she scrambled to pick up the call, relieved to read your name on the screen. "Where the fuck are you?!"

"Velvette, I'm- ah!" You yelped as you dodged an angel, running through the crowd to blend in and hide. You could see the Headquarters from where you stood. "I'm almost there!"

"Tell me where you are right now!" She demanded, her thick accented voice didn't leave any room for argument or mirth in such a situation. If something were to happen to you, she didn't know what she'd do.

"I'm in the crowd!" You spoke loudly to make sure she heard you through the phone in the middle of all the chaos.

Velvette ran over to the stairs and walked down as fast as possible, hoping to find you and drag you to safety. You could hear her yelling for Vox to find you with his cameras and her frantic stomps down God knows how many flights of stairs.

"Y/N?" She called out, standing on her tip toes to spot you.

You could see her standing behind the glass door, panicky red eyes combing through the giant hoard of sinners running for their lives. She hung up the phone and walked into the crowd, looking for you.

Your heart almost stopped beating when your eyes caught the blue, pink and white flash of her hair. It was dangerous, what the hell was she doing? "Velvette!"

You squeezed through the stampeding sinners and took hold of her hand. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be inside!"

"So should you!" She retorted, leading you back to the building. The way she grasped your hand like a lifeline, posture so tense and eyes wide with alarm as she pulled you to the Headquarters made you feel that she loved you more than she let on.

She tripped on a pebble and dropped to the ground, which made you instinctively shield her from the exorcists with your body. Heaven would never murder one of the Vees and you knew, but with the way the sinner were stepping over you, you couldn't have her getting hurt, especially with how her small stature made her susceptible to trampling. She had also given you clothes that she designed herself with her signature style, yet another of her favourite ways of marking you as hers, so that the angels would see you're with her.

In a moment of bravery, you picked her tiny body up in your arms and rushed towards the door of the Headquarters.

Velvette gasped as you slammed the door open and shut it tightly, pressing your back flush against the cold glass with a sigh of relief. You dropped to your knees in exhaustion and she soon follows, hands flying to cup your cheeks. "Darling, are you alright? Did they get you? Are you hurt? Are yo-"

"My love," you interrupted her rambling, resting a hand on top of hers. "I'm okay. I promise."

She sighed and pulled you into her arms, burying her face in your neck. "Don't do that ever again. You scared the shit out of me."

You press a soft kiss to the top of her head, carding your fingers through her tricolour hair. The pads of your fingers rubbed on her scalp, trying to ground her to reality. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't be late next time."

She smiled and rested her forehead on yours, then planted a kiss on your lips out of relief. She had no idea what she would have done with herself if the exorcists had gotten to you first. She pushed such thoughts away and hugged you tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

[deviouz]

. . . jason todd and villain!reader !!

jason todd who opts to neutralize villain!reader himself rather than turning you in to the authorities because each time he does, you slip through the cracks of a crumbling justice system just to wreck havoc on the city the next night.

“you just don’t know how to stop, do you? can’t learn a lesson? fine. i’ll just have to teach you myself.”

jason todd who decides to back villain!reader to a corner, all of her gadgets and fancy tech smashed to hell in the dingy room of an abandoned building. he looks bigger than you’d imagine at this close of proximity, head tipped down to no doubt glare you down from behind that stoic, vermillion mask of his.

it’s pointless to even try fighting back. the red hood wasn’t someone you wanted to have up close and personal — and, unfortunately for you, he was close enough for the faint smell of his cologne to flood your senses.

“you’ve left me with no choice, really. it’s almost like you wanted to get caught by me. again. god, do you even sleep?”

jason todd who forces your front to the wall, face uncomfortably pressed into the aged brick wall. he has your arms twisted behind his back, wrists caught in one of his hands, while his knee slots between your leather-clad thighs. the smirk he wore was almost audible. the sound of your curses and empty-threats began to echo throughout the room, but that all came to a sudden halt when a rough hand grabbed at your hips and began to force you back and forth against his thigh. those venom-laced words transformed to quiet, breathy moans and feather-light gasps.

if you had your knife, you would have plunged it in him the second the faux coos started.

“that’s it. if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

jason todd who makes you work for a sweet release. why would he let gotham’s newest villainess off so easily, especially after the hell you’ve been putting him through? no, you have to work for it. he’ll deny release after release, whispering a plethora of filthy, degrading words into your ear until you finally give in.

“fuck, you’re soaked. dripping cunt’s got my suit all dirty,” jason almost laughs at the pitiful moan that rips through your chest, “we can do this all night, sweetheart.”

and when you finally give in, sobbing and hiccup because you just can’t take another denial in fear of losing your mind, he’ll allow you to use his thigh however you see fit. of course, all of that mindless grinding and high pitched moans of pure ecstasy are sure to be made fun of. you’re that desperate to get off on your supposed enemy’s thigh? really?

jason todd who grins when you slump to the ground, thighs pressed tightly together as you pant, body quivering. you’re an absolute mess, and he’s finally got you right where he wants you. pliant and obedient.

“c’mon, you don’t seriously think that’s all i had planned, right?”

[wonwayne]

whatever you say ☁️ park jongseong

pairing : bf!jay x fem!reader genre : tooth-rotting fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.85k

a/n : i don't really know what this is. but it's cute. (just HAD to write on this thought [creds to @atrirose] because husband material jay !!)

home. nothing felt better than coming back from an achingly long work day to the smell of you. closing the door softly behind him, jay let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. comfort always seemed to creep up on him like this, with subtle reminders in the air that you would always be there for him, ready to—

“help me build the titanic?”

you beamed up at your boyfriend, legs crossed on the living room carpet, encircled by seemingly infinite lego pieces in red, white, yellow, and black.

not quite what jay was expecting to come home to. but he approached your little recreation ground anyway, lunging carefully towards the box packaging. “another 2000+ piece lego set?”

“9000!”

“oh—”

“9090, to be exact.”

jay nodded, kneeling down by the carpet to match your eye level. “... that’s really—”

“wait no, 9092! sorry i keep correcting myself, it’s just that i forgot to add the jack and rose minifigures.” you pointed proudly at the thumb-sized people. “once i’m done with the ship, i’m going to have them at the bow like that iconic scene. and then maybe every few days i’ll move them to the floor and put rose on a little door.” you held lego jack up to your boyfriend’s face. “you look just like him.”

he glanced to the side before mirroring its boxy grin. “do i?” you nodded vigorously. “well that’s very flattering, y/n, but i should say,” and he looked emphatically at the heap of legos strewn between him and you, “you’re making it very hard for me to hug you. any closer, and i’m bound to step on a lego here.”

your expression morphed instantly from disquiet to delight. god, you could never get over how adorable he was when he said the sweetest things in the sternest voice. “i’m sorry!” you burst out, sweeping the pieces to the side and jumping into your boyfriend’s arms. “i’ll be right at the door to hug you next time.”

“thank you, love,” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head, “keep working, i’ll make dinner and help build as soon as i can.”

even more adorable, you thought, for calling your lego-building “work.”

tragically, jay found you breaking your promise just a few evenings following. anticipating your pretty face peeking out of the doorway, he practically raced out of the apartment elevator. but instead of anything to look for, he was met by faint screams and hearty laughs — your laugh among them, and panic consumed him. who would she be laughing with in OUR apartment besides me? why the screams?? what if she’s—

bursting the door open, he was yet again unable to make sense of… you. you, belting taylor swift at the top of your lungs, dappled with rainbow light under the mini disco ball you’d set up in the far corner, mid-cartwheel with a wireless mic in one hand, dangerously close to crashing into both your partners in crime, jake and sunghoon.

they steered clear of you swiftly before freezing at the sight of a narrow-eyed jay.

“uh, y/n,” sunghoon began (poor boy), “i think—”

“—BUT THIS LOVE IS BRAVE AND WIIIIIIIILLLLLDDDDDD,” you persisted, thoroughly unaware of your boyfriend’s presence, and nearly assaulting the sofa as you landed from the cartwheel.

it took you till the end of the song’s bridge to notice your friends’ conspicuous silence. following their uneasy gaze, you saw jay maintaining the hardest poker face you’d ever seen him wear before.

but forget the “oh hi”s, skip the “let me explain��s — you glided over to where jay stood by the entrance and, offering the mic to him, sang quietly: “and i neverrrrrr saw you comiiiiiiiiiiing.” you sounded impossibly good.

“you should’ve,” he said, voice low, and with the hint of a pout, “seen me coming.” at a louder volume, he addressed the boys while his arms wrapped around your waist, “why do i have to come home to these two losers making a mess on a respectable thursday evening?”

jake opened his mouth to protest, but jay’s attention was already back to you. “you invited them?” he asked casually, pulling you closer in.

“i was getting bored without you,” and it was your time to pout, “had to unwind somehow.” you conveniently left out the detail that you had organized the whole “mess” in the house, and that the other two had played absolutely no part.

“with karaoke at the ungodly hour?”

“well, only because you arrived at an ungodly hour.”

he paused for a moment, then conceded, “right. of course, love, i’m sorry.”

you missed jake’s priceless expression as he made eye contact with jay across the room.

“P A R T N E R  P R I V I L E G E,” he mouthed as aggressively as he could.

jay scoffed, and buried his chin deeper into the crook of your neck.

the only privilege, he would tell the boys later, was that of him having you in his life.

[atzaurora]

쉬다-𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

𝖿ᥲᥣᥣ ᥲsᥣᥱᥱ⍴ ᥕһіᥣᥱ і 𝖿ᥲᥣᥣ 𝖿᥆r ᥡ᥆ᥙ

𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: San

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!reader x idol!san

𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (fluff)

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: dating

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: none

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: after a long day, you're both very exhausted and he lets you fall asleep on his lap, comforting you so you get some rest.

𝒘/𝒄: 976

𝒂/𝒏: i enjoyed writing this one! I'm proud of myself for coming up with that title ngl please let me know if you have any requests ^^

here's my 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the day had been long, filled with back-to-back schedules, rehearsals, and performances. as an idol, the fast-paced life was something you had grown accustomed to, but today had been especially exhausting. you were grateful, though, for the unwavering support of your group members and, most importantly, your boyfriend, San. although your relationship was a well-kept secret known only to the other members of Ateez, it was a source of immense comfort and joy.

the car ride back from the company to the dorms was quiet, with most of the members either dozing off or lost in their own thoughts. San sat beside you, his hand subtly intertwined with yours, hidden beneath a jacket. his touch was warm, and it grounded you after a hectic day.

"we're almost home," he whispered, his voice soft yet comforting. you nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder. just a few more minutes, and you could finally relax.

as the car pulled into the familiar parking lot of the dorm building, everyone slowly began to stir. you all shuffled out, making your way up to your respective floors.

"goodnight, everyone," you said to the other members as you parted ways in the after going into the dorm. they all went to their own room, most of them heading straight to sleep. you quickly made your way into the kitchen, where San was waiting for you.

"hey, y/n," he greeted you with a tired but genuine smile. "ready to relax?"

"more than ready," you replied, taking his hand as he led you inside.

the Ateez dorm was quiet, only the sounds of soft snoring or rumbling in the bathroom could be heard now, an unusual feeling, since there was always someone being overly hyped and making a lot of noises.

San guided you to the living room, where he had already set up a cozy corner with soft blankets and pillows. "come on, let's get comfortable," he said, pulling you down onto the couch beside him. you sank into the cushions, feeling the day's stress begin to melt away.

San reached for the remote and turned on the TV, tuning into a light-hearted drama that was perfect for unwinding. as the episode played, you couldn't help but feel your eyelids grow heavy. San's presence was soothing, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing was like a lullaby.

"San," you murmured, trying to fight the sleepiness that was overtaking you. "thank you for being here."

He looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "always, y/n. now, just rest. you've had a long day."

you didn't need any more convincing. you shifted slightly, resting your head on his lap. San adjusted the blanket over you, his fingers gently stroking your hair. the sensation was so calming that within moments, you were drifting off to sleep.

San continued to watch the drama, his attention split between the screen and the peaceful sight of you sleeping. he smiled softly, looking at your features. god, how he admired you. if you would be awake right now to see the way he looked at you, there'd be no need to ever doubt what this man felt for you ever again. it's like he fell for you all over again.

time seemed to blur as you slept, the comforting presence of San grounding you in a way nothing else could. occasionally, you would stir slightly, and San would soothe you with gentle whispers and soft touches.

"shh, it's okay, y/n. just sleep," he would murmur, his voice like a balm to your tired soul.

eventually, the drama ended, and San turned off the TV, not wanting to disturb your slumber. he sat quietly, his thoughts filled with gratitude for the bond you shared. he knew how challenging it was to maintain a relationship in your world, but moments like these made it all worthwhile.

as the night wore on, the other members tiptoed around, giving you and San the space you needed. they respected your relationship and often marveled at the strong connection you two shared despite the demands of your careers.

after what felt like hours, you began to stir, slowly waking up to the feeling of San's hand still gently caressing your hair. you blinked, disoriented for a moment before remembering where you were.

"hey," you whispered, looking up at him. "how long was I out?"

"not too long," he replied with a smile. "just enough to recharge a bit. how do you feel?"

"better," you admitted, sitting up and stretching. "I didn't realize how tired I was."

San chuckled, his eyes crinkling with affection. "that's what I'm here for, to help you relax and take care of you."

you leaned in and kissed his cheek, your heart swelling with love. "thank you, San. I don't know what I'd do without you."

he pulled you into a gentle embrace, resting his chin on top of your head. "and I don't know what I'd do without you, y/n. I love you."

you stayed like that for a while, simply enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's presence.

after a while, San suggested getting ready for bed. "we still have another busy day tomorrow. let's get some proper rest."

you nodded, standing up and stretching again. San led you to the bathroom where you took turns washing up and getting ready for bed. once you were both in your pajamas, you walked into San's bedroom where the bed was already calling your name.

San settled down beside you, pulling the blankets up over both of you. he wrapped his arms around you, and you snuggled into his chest, feeling safe and content.

"goodnight, y/n," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"goodnight, San," you replied, closing your eyes and letting the comfort of his embrace lull you back to sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[writingroom21]

For Give Me Father

Pairing: priest!rafe x nun!reader

Summary: During a confessional things take a turn. What was supposed to be you purging yourself for sin becomes a window to a new experience.

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, wet dreams, masturbation (m), mention of the use of a paddle, corruption kink?, the use of Father as his title in the church, (let me know if I missed any)

You pace the halls as you soothe the black fabric of your tunic and fix your veil. This is the fourth week in a row where you have woken up to impure thoughts. All of the other nuns walked around as if nothing was wrong. Leading you to believe that you are cursed. Or worse the devil has sunk his teeth into you and now you can not escape. Everynight you are plagued with the same dreams.

It starts off with a sermon from Father Cameron. He leads the church through their prayers, never taking his eyes off of you. In your dreams he always talks about temptation, reminding everyone that they have to avoid it at all costs. Which is ironic due to him pulling you into his office after the service. He forces you to recall his whole sermon and every wrong answer means a piece of clothing needs to be taken off. With your nerves, you always make mistakes leading to him stripping you down. 

As your punishment he forces you to read passages of the bible as he uses a paddle to swat your ass. When he realizes that the punishment fails and only makes you aroused he switches tactics. He’ll grab your tunic pushing the fabric until it rests on your waist. Gathering the moisture that collected between your thighs he has you suck his fingers as he pulls out his cock. Slowly he pulls your underwear to the side before sliding himself in. He’d make you keep reading, thrusting harder into you with every stutter you had. 

“Good morning Sister.” You’re snapped out of your daydream when Sister Mary greets you as she leaves her confession. “Good morning sister Mary.” She walks down the hall, her footsteps echo on the stone flooring as she leaves. Looking at the confessional you take a deep breath before entering. You smooth the fabric once again as you sit down, your hands resting on your lap. The rosary beads entangle your fingers as you try to calm your nerves. Just as you were about to get up and leave, the divider opens.

 From the corner of your eye you can see Father Cameron facing forward waiting for you to speak. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I’ve been plagued by impure thoughts and find myself yearning for temptation. I can’t seem to keep the thoughts at bay no matter how much I pray. I’m afraid that there is nothing that I can do to stop them.” From the otherside of the wooden wall you can hear him take a deep breath. Facing forward you stare at the stained wood trying to ignore the gnawing feeling building in your chest.

“It is easy for temptation to find us afterall it is a part of life. I’ve seen how devoted you are to your faith. God will guide you through as he always does, do not fret.” You glance to the left taking a peek of his features. “Father, it seems to find me at every moment. My dreams are infiltrated and when I’m awake it is all I can see or think about.” The rosary in your hand digs into your skin as you tighten them. Hoping that you will awake from this nightmare. “Sister if I may ask. What is plaguing you?”

There it is, the question you were hoping he would not ask. 

“I find myself having impure thoughts about someone I should not. My dreams are littered with the acts of intercourse. I wake up from the dreams yearning to experience what I witnessed.” Father Cameron clears his throat and moves around in his space. “Sister when you describe intercourse, is it safe to assume it is with you and another member in this church?” Looking down at your hands, you respond with a yes. Your skin feels like it is burning, the cold metal of your beads turns scolding. They fall to the ground as you drop them, feeling as if you are not worthy of their protection. 

“We have all experienced this form of temptation. We are human and it is natural to have these thoughts. It is just good to remember your vows and that our faith is stronger than the urge to do it.” Taking a deep breath you muster the courage to speak. “What if I want it to happen? As everyday goes I find myself unopposed to the idea.” There’s silence after your words. The both of you sitting there waiting for the other to say anything else. “Tell me sister, are your thoughts about me?” 

Ashamed of your answer you stay silent which tells him his thought process was correct. From the bench you sit on you can hear a ruffle of fabric. You glance back over to him but he looks composed. His blue eyes find you through the divider, a small smile threatening to peek through. “Describe them to me.” Your gasp in shock, turning your body towards where he is. “I’m sorry Father, what?” He clears his throat again with his eyes falling shut for a brief moment. “I believe that if you confess your desires you will be free from this torment.”

With a shaky breath you begin to tell him. “It starts with your sermons. I watch you as you lead everyone to be a better them. Then you warn them of temptation and how to not stray from their path.” You pause for a moment but he encourages you on with baited breath. “You stare at me as if you are ready to show them what it truly looks like. As if you would take me right there if you could.”

“If I did?” He questions. A small noise comes from his mouth. You move closer to the little window and try to see what he is doing. You can hear something but you don’t know what it is. “Father may I be honest?” He groans, his mouth gaping open. “You may.” Swallowing the saliva that gathered in your mouth you turn back to the door in front of you. “I would let you. But usually you pull me into your office. You always punish me for not remembering your sermon or messing up a bible verse.” 

Father Cameron lets out a loud moan. You look back at the window with a curious gaze. “Father are you alright?” His eyes gaze into yours with a hazy look in them. “I’m perfectly fine, sister. Please continue.” You lift yourself a bit to peer over to his side to be greeted with the sight of him pleasuring himself. Quickly you sit back down, crossing your legs as you picture his veiny hands wrapped around his cock. “You use the paddle on me sometimes, making me count them as you go. Other times you just take your time playing with me. It always ends with you taking me over your desk.”

There’s another moan as you finish. “Jesus CHrist.” He mutters under his breath. “How do you feel when you think about it?” Your thighs squeeze at his question. “Like I want to strip you of everything and let you have your way.” There’s a loud thud as Father Cameron’s nondominant hand slaps the wooden walls. “Oh god.” His eyes clam shut as his face contorts with pleasure. You watch him as his shoulders shake with each breath and how his mouth drops open. Against your better judgment you look down at his lap watching as ropes of his cum coat his hand. 

When your eyes move back to his face he’s already staring at you. A smile graces his face as he grabs a cloth from his pocket to clean himself up. “Sister, I think you have made great progress. Please do comes to me if you have any more of these dreams. Best we get ahead of them.” You nod standing to exit. “Sister.” You look back at him wondering what could possibly be the issue. “It is okay to fall into temptation. You should never be afraid to face it, I know you can take it.” 

His words don’t seem fitting to the man you are used to. But neither is the way he is looking at you at the moment. The only time you’ve seen this look was well in your dreams.

“Thank you Father.”

@rafedaddy01

[threepandas]

Bad End: Actions Speak

"Be Silent."

Those were the first words commanded to me by the High Dragon Prince of the South. He did not want to hear me. Did not want to see me. To even be forced to endure, my obnoxious, insignificant, human presence. Any more then he absolutely had too. If it weren't for the fact that I had magic? He likely would have preferred to have me killed.

Just like the others.

I was a prisoner of war. One, which? I had no choice but to take part in. Had been drafted, by the humans. Only to be captured, by the dragons. All I had wanted? From my second chance at life? Was to live quietly. Study magic. Enjoy what I could not, before. Instead? I got warfare. Fear. The constant threat of death.

They needed me to open confidential human intelligence. Reverse engineer defenses and weapons. My safety and quality of life? Depended entirely on my compliance. And? If those reports and devices happened to be trapped to hell 'n back? By Mages FAR more skilled then myself?

Do it anyway. You are replaceable. Either you succeed... or you die.

You... hah... y-you really...

Really can say, I guess, n-now I know...? That...

That you really DO learn faster, under fire. Enduring pain curses. Fighting lethal curses, for your very life. Fire and drowning attacks. Lightning. Wind spells meant to choke the life of out of me, by sucking out all the air from my lungs. They... they really were creative, weren't they? My old colleagues.

Yes, sadistic, in ways I had never imagined. But also? Very, very creative.

I had the scars to prove it now.

All the while, as commanded, I did not talk. Did not DARE. Still do not. Even as I am shoved around. Dragged from tent to tent, building to building. Hurried along, like an inconvenience. A faulty, inefficient, piece of machinery, that dares eat their food and breathe their air. Slow and lagging, but sadly? Oh, sadly. They could not find better.

But I endure. Survive. I do not talk, so I can not offer. I give them nothing more then they demand. Malicious compliance. Nothing more, nothing less, then EXACTLY as you commanded, oh Wardens mine. My Keepers, foul and wretched. The holders of my chains. Someday... someday, this war will end. Or I will die, my luck running out, at long, long last.

And I?

I Will Be Free.

Once, long before this all, I had heard rumors. They say that talented humans, magically gifted humans, tended to be kept as glorified, pampered little pets, in the Vampiric lands. It... it sounds nice, now. To worry for nothing. To be protected. Adored and provided for, like some exquisite house cat, lounging in the sun. I could study again. Find someone nice.

....I worry.

You see, I... I think...

I may be breaking, around the edges of myself. Hairline fractures, born of stress. It's the isolation. Surrounded as I am. None of them are human, none of them will talk to me, at me. Anything at all. They follow the lead of their Prince. And he? Oh, he has made his distain for humanity clear.

Which begs the question. Why is he here?

Or rather, why am I? Dragged, from the ratty little cloth hovel they call "my tent", by the worn and patched to incoherence cloak I now wear, straight to the central command tent. Where the Prince is. The generals. The beating heart of the army itself. Dumped on the ground at his feet, I was fully expecting that to be it. That this would be the day.

They had found a better, less worn down, mage. A stronger one. A more obedient one. My services would no longer be... required.

I sat there. In the dirt. Eyes locked on his feet and waited. Palms splayed against the floor. Why bother fight? If I did THAT, they'd use me as "an example" for the NEXT mage. No. No, better to go quick. I had been reborn once. T-there was a possibility... however small... it... it might? Happen again?

Please, Gods. Please Gods, let it happen again.

But no. I was told, with judgment in his voice, by some general, to "get up". Ha! As though they were not directly responsible for my beaten down state. How dare. How DARE he judge me? I owed them nothing. Refused to die, in some short sighted tantrum of honor or pride.

I would LIVE, damn it. I MUST live. For how ever long I could. I wanted to be free again. To read and travel, do magic for magics sake. Never... NEVER see another dragon again.

Perhaps that was hateful. But damn it... I... I was so tired.

Nonetheless, I stood. Looked at no one and said nothing. Just an empty, ragged cloak with flesh inside. I am not here. I do not suffer. Unfocus your eyes and be far away. Yes, that's right, I tell myself, far... far away. It's like meditation. Just... ride the flow of magic. Do not call it. Merely observe. Let the colors drag you in. Be washed away. Far, far away.

I hear and do not hear, there. See and do not see. They can not touch me, can not hurt me, there is nothing and everything, in the Magics. It is... so... so BeAuTiFuL.

No wonder so many are lost. Drift and never come back.

I play a dangerous game, here.

But they can not hurt me.

No one can.

In here.

No answer comes then. But I am expected to work. Perhaps it is a show? Or they wish to verify, that I am indeed, doing what they keep me alive for. Nonetheless, I sit, in the corner, silent as I got to work. As old colleagues try to stop my heart, freeze my blood, rupture my organs. As burns roar over my skin and lightning crackles against canvas walls.

I do not scream. That would be too close to "speaking". I am not fool enough to give them an excuse. There is a belt I can bite. I use it often. Will have to salvage another, as this one is falling to pieces. That and a silencing spell? My screaming is muted.

Getting better at healing magic, I think. Either I have learned to numb the pain or I may have nerve damage. I doubt, now, that I will ever win awards. For my beauty. Too many scars. My arms are a wreck. My hands a travesty. It is nothing short of a miracle, that I have not LOST any fingers, to this.

Why am I here? Why? Why?

At least in my little hovel, I can curl up and weep. Emote. Can take breaks between bouts of pain and battles of magic. But here? Like a machine, stacks are dumped before me, and I am expected to perform. Do or die, human. We can always find another.

Through it all, haunting golden eyes watch. My pain, my exhaustion, all observed, giving away nothing, by that impassive royal face. I don't know what he WANTS.

Finally, after weeks of considering me, he decides to tell me. Comes to some conclusion, no input required. Why would it be? Of course. He is a High Prince. His power is great, his honor and name without equal. Why would he need MY input on anything.

"Did I know," he asked me, voice ponderous and musing, "That of all the mages his people have captured... I had lived the longest?"

I had not. But it did not suprise me.

He sat, considering me, splayed back in his chair like it was a throne, every bit the picture of a royal. A portrait of the man he was born to be. But the distain... the distain? Had... lessened. Not gone. Never gone. Gods, no. We peons were beneath him. Especially I, a mere human. But? Apparently I was not longer quite so wretched.

Our dear High Prince decided I should get a better tent. A new cloak. Actual medical supplies. What wonders.

It made me nervous. What cost, did these things come with? What expectation? Loyalty? I had offered none and never will. That would quickly become a problem. Still, I kept my head down. Always, always, keep your head down. Let the dragons die, for their stupid fucking war.

No longer replaceable. I discovered.

In the next big attack, as there was ALWAYS a next one, I wasn't evacuated last. As attacks fell. But FIRST, as the soilders were arriving. I was... was "essential personal". Shoved in an evac cart with the fancy strategists.

They started deliberately capturing mage supplies. Books and spell papers, chalks and high quality inks. Not just to disarm their opponents. Oh no. But to give to ME. I had... I had NEVER gotten supplies. The last time I had actually, truely, desperately, needed ink? I had been forced to use my own blood.

My hands actually shook. Touching such richs now. It overwhelmed, after so long, with nothing. I... I had healing books. Could actually look things up!

Curling up, before the piles of crates they dumped in front of my little tent, I didn't care, if they saw me cry. On my knees like an acolyte before the alter. Finally. FINALLY! Answers, armaments, and supplies. Relief, after so long? Was rain on desert sands. Burned skin left tender and screaming, to the cleansing mercy, of the softly weeping skies.

This, too, the High Prince saw.

No where to store them, of course. A gift given then taken away. Held just out of reach. Just long enough to give hope. All the better to torment you with it. Oh where we would we store, your useless little trinkets, human?

But I refuse to play the game. Fine. Take them. Take it all.

I need nothing.

Retreat into the Magics. They can not hurt me. I am not here. Far, far away. I am far, far away.

The High Prince, lounging and watchful, seems to have decided. No. The human things will go to him, actually, not to the fire. He watches with strange, considering eyes. In fact? I will make my self useful. Show my gratefulness. He is using valuable storage space on me, so I am to come before him and study. Prove it is worth it.

Is he not gracious? Now press your face to the dirt in thanks, human. Bow and scrape. Be glad, be honored, that your Liege is so kind.

He does not disagree, as they tell me these things. Why would he? They are his due. I think... I think I hate him. Hate them all. But the pull of books, of proper supplies, is simply too powerful. Back to that wretched tent I go. Under the staring eyes that dissect me so. Finally, I can heal my aching body.

He watchs me. As I study, improve, learn and grow. As old books are taken from me, shipped away somewhere, beyond my reaching, and new ones arrive. I desperately make notes. Hope those notes will be enough. Work and suffer and bleed. Somewhere, in the camp, I sense others.

The come and go. Bright lights that flare and then dim. Struggling and struggling, before finally going out. Some faster then others. The objects and messages they have me working on now? Are truely nasty. Again and again, I see the crests of Nobel houses and royal seals. How powerful, I wonder, have I become? Or is it simply... specialized?

A gift, for not dying.

Over the camp walls, I have begun to recognize the surroundings. The mountains and the valleys. The trees, in bloom. It seems wrong, that the world should be so beautiful, as everything is ending. The nation I grew up in, is falling. But... but we passed Heartriver two weeks back. And THAT? Was well within the border.

And from HERE... I can see the school.

The University of Magics. All I had ever wished, was to return. But... but not like this, never like this. I'm... gods. Oh Gods, I'm sorry. For my weakness. For not choosing to die. For not running at all, before it all began. I should have. But... but I was a coward. And now everyone else, must pay the price.

I stand outside my pathetic little tent and watch the horizon smoke. Burn.

Dragons are so very, very fond of fire.

Far away... j-just go far away... the Magic will always take you. Is always kind. Towards the tent I go. I remind myself, as I force myself to move, one step in front of the other? That if the worst comes to worst? I can just... Let Go. Go DEEP. So deep that no one and nothing can ever find me again. So far away, my body forgets I ever lived at all.

Just... just a soul. Floating along like a jellyfish, in the beautiful Allthings. The light and void, the far away and gone. I-It wouldn't even hurt. Just be like... like letting go of a balloon. I could be that balloon. Disappear into endless starlight...

But... BUT! I wont.. I can't! Not yet. Not until every other path has burned. Last resort. Only, ONLY, as a last resort.

(I refuse to acknowledge... how comforting the knowledge is. That I have a plan at all. A way out.)

Entering the tent, I head for "my table". At the High Prince' feet like a dog. A lovely little carpet, comfortable little pillows, a low table to work on. It would... honestly? It would be a lovely place setting. A delightful workstation. If it were not the context. The obvious, blatant, demeaning context.

Sit at his feet and behave. Be good and you're rewarded, be bad and you're punished. Brought little treats at HIS command? Sit on a pillow, on the floor, as they talk over your head? Ha ha... I? I half expected to one day show up to find someone holding a fucking collar.

If they fucking tried? I was going to set everything on FIRE. Even I, had limits.

However, it was just the Prince and I. Uncomfortable, but I could ignore him. Walking for my humiliating little seat, I noticed him watching me. Slowed. Why... why was he watching me? Awkwardly I paused. Did NOT want to be kneeling in front of a man that was staring that intently at me. Especially not so closely to a man, staring like that. The vibes were... off.

"Did you know, pet, that we actually have several rather old alliances amoung the Vampiric Royal Houses?" He said, breaking the strange silence.

'Pet, huh? Good to know he's at least fucking AWARE. I did NOT consent to that!' I seethe, in my head.

"It's been bothering me, you see. Your wretched state." He continues, completely unbothered that he might as well be talking to a statue. I stare, seethe, would give a limb at this point, to set him on fire. "You've suffered unbearably and I've done nothing to correct it, even though I could. We needed you for the war effort, you see, but now? Now, pet, we're nearly done. And I can finally care for you properly."

"Reward you, properly." The bastard says, calm and oh so reasonable, as though I had anything to do with him willingly.

"Honestly, it's long over due. The second I realized I wanted you as Mine, I should have stepped up to care for you properly. Officially. But, sadly, it would have been a conflict of interest. An abuse of power. Now, however? Now I can finally call on our allies for their support. Get you the medical assistance you so badly require."

A pleased smile stole across his face as he considered me.

"You'll make a lovely vampire. It was selfish of me, to cheat you of the years turning you sooner would have given you, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Our people needed us. I can swear to you now, pet, you will forever remain my favorite, even if I take a Queen."

Horror was like a gut punch, deliver by a fighter jet. I felt immediately and intensely sick. W-what? Frozen so completely I nearly forgot to breathe, I looked for ANY sign he may be joking. Exaggerating. But... but no. W-WHAT?? How. WHEN? At what point, in my torment? In my UTTER SILENCE? Did this man "fall in love"?!

H-How can you LOVE a women you've never-?! No. No, I KNEW how.

You decide you like the IDEA of them. The shape of their body. You project onto them your OWN narrative and decide it is a love story. Fuck. FUCK!! I was... this was... no no NO! I REFUSED. Like HELL was I could to live, trapped for DECADES if not CENTURIES, the pretty little war bride of a tyrant!

The High Prince gets up and walkes towards me. Sweeps me into terrifyingly powerful arms. When he smiles? There are fangs. Deadly and hardly the comfort he thinks they are. We are a laughable contrast. Richs and rags, power and prisoner, royal and the woman who might just burn the world to escape. Shit. SHIT. I was scared of him before.

And that's BEFORE he decided he loved me.

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part III

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 1.9k++

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: near assault, bickering, mini(i think?) grovelling, tiny fluff and of course what else than angst.

P/S: Thank you so much for your support from previous chapters! At first, I didn't plan to make this a mini series at all, but here we are. Anyway, enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N wished that she could live up to her own expectations. That she would enjoy every second of this date. But who was she kidding?

How was she supposed to be present in the moment and savour the wonderful dinner or relish the breath-taking scene of glimmering city lights through the windows at their table, when all she could ever think of was Bucky?

Bucky.

Bucky.

That god damn son of a bitch, Bucky.

She felt suffocated by both anger and pain. Completely distracted by the thought of him.

"I can't do this." Y/N abruptly stood on her feet as she confessed her truth. She paced and paced, despite the voice of Daniel calling out her name from behind.

She could barely hear him, or maybe she shuts it down on purpose because she can't afford having more thoughts in her spiralling mind.

She only realized that she was out when the sound of the hustle bustle of the city invades her hearing. She stood still for a while, wondering if she let her feet takes her away, where will she ended up then.

Before she could walk away any further, she felt a grip on her arms, pulling her to the alleyway besides the building. It was surprisingly dark and eerie even with the lively lights of the city leaking through the ends of it.

Considering he was an agent of SHIELD, he does have a quick reflex when he managed to grab both of her wrists and pinned her to the wall.

Honestly, she wasn't completely oblivious at Daniel's physical advances throughout the night; hands hovering over her ass when he lead the way, fingers grazing her thighs through the slit of her dress.

They were subtle but still relentless.

"Just where the fuck do you think you're going?" Daniel seethed in her ears, his impatient breaths huffed in between her neck.

"Oh, for fuck sake." She sighed with a slight annoyance in her undertone. She was really tired of everything at this point. Especially when this fool who thought he could throw her around like a ragdoll.

Y/N managed to twist her hands free from his grasps as her knee raised towards his defenseless crotch. However, the hit never happened, as a familiar black and gold metal hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's neck.

In a split second, Bucky had Daniel up against the opposite wall, head slamming into the hard crooked bricks of the building. Loud cluttering sound of the empty steel cans echoed down the alleyway, almost drowning Daniel's strained groans.

Although Y/N was not able to see Bucky's face, but she could imagine the cold grim in his eyes when the grit of his voice growled, "Touch my girl again and you'll see what Hydra had made of me."

She averted her eyes down to the dark and murky color of the ground when a strike of pain ached within her chest.

She hates it when he acknowledged Hydra's label on him.

A weapon. A monster.

It's imbrute and dehumanizing.

Her view didn't change its imagery until a pair of black combat boots entered the picture. She lifted her gaze just to spat at her saviour, "I could've handled him myself."

Bucky's eyes soften as a proud smile appeared on his lips, "I know, doll."

Very contrast to his gentle expression, Y/N's face was rigid and irritated. Ironically, they were imitating each other's default guise.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pushing him aside and started to walk away, leaving Bucky alone in the dark alleyway. Though her attempt was unsuccessful when Bucky managed to grab a hold on her wrist, "Wait, y/n."

She halted but refused to look back, "No. So, can you let go of my hand now?" her hands bundled into fists as she try to hold back her wrath.

Though the sidewalk was not crowded with people, in fact it was nearly empty, however she didn't want to make a scene.

"Please, hear me out." Bucky pleaded.

At least, she tried to keep it in.

Y/N yanked her hand from his, "Why the fuck should I listen to you, Bucky?!" she snapped, eyes flashing with fury.

Bucky was honestly not prepared for this, he went here without thinking of a plan to coax her. He ran to her with a sole purpose of telling her the truth, and Y/N yelling at him is not helping his nervous wreck,  "Because..bec.."

Growing impatient to his hesitation, she fumed even more, "What?! Just what is it that you want from me Buck--"

And then all loud sounds of the roaring rage in her head suddenly fell into complete silence when she felt his lips on hers.

The sensory within her skin abruptly heighten, becoming sensitive to Bucky's contrasting touch on her cheeks; hot and cold in either side as he cupped her face in his palms.

His soft lips, his intoxicating scent, his desperate touch.

Everything was too overwhelming for her short-circuited brain to process an appropriate response; in fact any type of response.

So when she let her body go on auto-pilot she found herself leaning forward, craving for more of the delicious friction.

It was a short lived moment of deafening sound of her own beating heart thundering in joy and excitement before the noises of rationality came rushing back to her.

Y/N ripped herself away in complete shock and panic, "Wh--what" even she herself was lost for words.

What have she done?

She pushed Bucky harshly she shouted, "Why? Why did you--? Y-you have a girlfriend, Bucky! You have Gail!"

God, how could she kissed her friend's boyfriend?

"I can't believe you just kiss me knowing that." And she reeled into the pure anxiety.

Bucky's pleads sounded muffled as her mind spiralled in guilt and shame. He grabbed her by the side of her arms before briefly pulling her back into reality, "Listen to me, y/n"

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, gripping it in her fists as her mind turned into complete chaos, "No, god this is wrong." He could hear panic in her trembling voice.

Bucky snapped as he yelled, "y/n, we broke up!"

There was a pause in time and air. Her body frozen as his words seemed to infinitely repeated in her ears. Head slowly turning towards Bucky; finally giving him the attention he demanded.

She just blankly stared at his truthful eyes with her own pair, wide open.

"He's bluffing. He's just making excuses."

"Bullshit! You looked very much in love last time I saw you, which let me remind you, it was few hours ago!"

Bucky thought about it for awhile before he replied,  "It's hard to explain everything now but she wanted to end it, for my sake." He paused. "...It's over."

He was not lying. Y/N knew that; she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. But, it didn't make sense; why why why.

Gail was perfect for Bucky. He needs someone like her. He deserves that type of love that she gave; soft and tender.

"No no no. That can't be it. W-why the fuck are you here then? You gotta get to her Bucky! You're not suppose to here. Not with me. Go before it's too late--"

He is worthy of someone who's completely unbreakable, someone that can stay with him even at the darkest times, someone that won't see him as a weapon, but a human being.

Someone who will love him unconditionally.

Because, Bucky of all people, deserves to be loved.

"You don't mean that, y/n"

It hurts Bucky to see that Y/N thought she was unfit for a place in his heart, when she literally owns it. It pained him that she keeps putting up this facade that she unable to see her true self.

It burns her heart to let him go but that shows how far she was willing to sacrifice for Bucky, "I do. I mean it.." she can feel her tears pooling in her eyes, "You deserv--"

"Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself." Bucky couldn't understand she keeps pushing him away. If he truly deserve to love someone then why can't it be her?

"Lying?"

Y/N find it harder to breathe as her chest tightens. Did he see right through her? Her voice trembled as she struggled to let the words out,  "I..I'm not lying."

Bucky almost scoffed in disbelief, "You think I didn't noticed it, y/n?"

All those masks she hides in. Behind the facades she wore so boldly, so willingly. Hurting herself over and over everytime she had to put up a brave face.

No.

He made her do that.

If he was honest from the beginning then things wouldn't turn out like this. She wouldn't suffer as she did. She never needed to.

"And fuck was I so stupid to turn a blind eye on you for the sake of keeping you." Bucky was breathless with anger. A rage towards himself; for his foolishness.

"Do you know why I get together with Gail?" Bucky felt as if his chest was burning, searing with flames, that if this goes any further then his heart will turn to ashes.

But Y/N deserve the truth even though he knows he need to admit his shameful doings,  "Because she reminds me so much of you. Warm, gentle and so unconditionally kind. And I let myself fooled by the illusion of you that I saw in her."

"I'm a bad man y/n. I hurt her. And I hurt you. Fuck, I hurt everyone around me." His eyes stung to think how effortlessly he destroy every single person he love; as if he was designed to do so.

"I know that I deserve every single curse and scrutiny that come my way. I've always known that."

"But for once in my fucked up life," his voice betrayed him by revealing its' stuttering form, "...I also know that I am lucky to have the chance to love someone as unforgivingly enchanting as you."

There was a brief pause where the air was still and soundless; reserved for the painful sounds of their breath.

His raw emotions was laid out unfiltered in a form of streaming tears across his cheeks, "I won't ask for your love in return." He reached his hand to hers and held it dearly, "All I ask is for your forgiveness."

His eyes searched her soul, willing her to bare with him a little longer, "Because god I can't lose you. I can't."

Bucky felt like he was drowning; as he was 70 years ago at the Austrian Alps. The unbareable emotions rushed in like the frozen waters that filled his lungs.

Panic. Shame. Regret.

Y/N never thought she could come this far.

She thought she would able to lift the weight; and with the long record of success, she thought she wouldn't able to break.

But after all, she was just a human and there will always be a limit to where she will end up at.

What's the point of pretending when the person she loves is as miserable as her?

The tripedation of her only give false signals to Bucky; this is it, he was losing her.

But, there it was, the forgiving embrace he longed for. In her arms the world stopped still on its axis. He felt her body pressed in, soft and warm. This was the love he'd waited for, prayed for. Bucky's shaky hands roamed from the side of her waist before his arms crossed behind her, squeezing her closer, tighter.

How could she not forgive him? When he had pour all of him as he did.

There was no time, no wind, no sound. Just the heat of their body against each other. The melody of their heartbeats intertwining. Bucky's mind was at peace. So was hers.

No more more pretending.

No more putting on act.

She settled into the crook of his neck and whispered so soft and quiet that some won't be able to hear but Bucky did.

"I love you, too."

End.

<< Part II

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for your time to read my work. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment/reblog! I love to hear from you~

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[dsireland86]

Mark Me

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey

Skin smacking together echoed through the dimly lit hallway. Her panting, followed by needy, lustful moans, filled the bedroom, locking themselves within the walls of their home. 

It was a moment of pure lust and fulfillment, having nothing to do with love and comfort, even though Matt worshiped the ground she walked on. Tonight, she was the brutal brunt of all his pent-up sexual frustration from weeks of being on tour without her. 

“All I thought about was fucking your brains out while I was locked up on that fucking tour bus for weeks,” Matt growled through clenched teeth as he pounded into her pussy like a wild, hungry animal.

She screamed for him, raking her nails down his back over and over, digging her fingertips into the muscles of his shoulder blades while she willing laid on her back and allowed Matt to violate her hard and fast, just to get his sexual fulfillment. 

“Fuck, you're always so fucking tight for me baby,” he panted, diving into her neck and sucking on it. 

“Harder, Matt,” she moaned, clawing his back again, making him hiss in pain.

“God, your pussy feels so good, taking my cock like this. You don't know how many nights I got myself off just thinking about it.” 

Matt grunted, thrusting harder into her, turning her cries into screams, as she begged him to let her cum. But, Matt was feeling mean tonight. It wasn't about her. It was about him. It was about fucking her filthy until he penetrated every single part of her.

Flipping her over on her stomach and forcing her up on her knees, Matt yanked her by the hair, and smacked her ass leaving a red hand print behind, reminding her who she belonged to. 

“Your pussy is mine, baby,” he told her, thrusting so hard into her he bottomed out, causing her to feel the head of his cock in her lower abdomen. 

“Fuck! Matt!” 

“Shit! I felt that.” 

He did it again and Y/N cried out, moaning his name. 

“God you're going to make cum if you keep sounding like that.”

Pressing down on her lower back and smacking her ass again, Matt continued fucking her hard until the familiar pressure began to build.  

“Every inch of your beautiful, fuckable body belongs to me; your ass, your tits, your mouth, all of it!”

“Matty,” she whimpered, choking back sobs and clawing at the bed sheets. 

“Whose slut are you? Tell me,” he demanded, feeling his thrusts getting sloppy. 

“Yours, Matty!” she whined.

“Good girl.”

He reached around and found her clit, circling it fast and hard hoping it would make him cum faster. But he needed more. Moving his hand lower, he found the place where they connected, the base of his cock soaked in their combined arousal. 

“Jesus, your pussy dripping!” He pulled out of her, exchanging his cock for his fingers. His other hand closed around her neck, choking her lightly as he fucked her with his fingers. 

“Matt, I'm almost there,” she whimpered through choked sobs. “I want to come, please.”

“Tell me who your sweet ass cunt belongs to, and maybe I’ll let you.”

“You, Matt,” she choked, “it belongs to only you, baby.”

“You’re goddamn right it does, beautiful.”

Slipping his fingers out of her pussy and thrusting them into her mouth, Matt hummed in approval when she sucked her juices off of them. It seemed to be the catalyst for him. 

His cock twitched hard inside her as he smacked her ass for a third time, and she screamed his name as he slammed back into her, pounding her pussy relentlessly. His balls tightened proof that he was close. 

“Fuck, Y/N!” His fingers dug deep into her hips, bruising them. “Fuck! God!”

“Matt, I’m about to cum, baby,” she moaned.

He grabbed her hair again and yanked her head back, hard, releasing his seed inside her just as her walls tightened around his cock and she came at the same time. Together they rode each other’s high for a moment before crashing. Matt pulled out of her and watched from behind as his cum dripped from her stretched, overstimulated pussy right before she collapsed.

“Me too, I wanna cum inside you.”

Noticing the red marks his left behind on her ass, Matt felt a pang of guilt for being so rough on her. He leaned down and gently kissed them, pausing the moment he heard her whimper. 

“I'm sorry, beautiful. I was too brutal and rough on you. I just fucking missed you so much.” He kissed her shoulder before brushing her hair out of her face. 

“I love you, Matt,” she muttered, eyes fully closed. “And it's okay. I missed you too. So much.” He smiled, pulling the blanket over her, and kissed her cheek.

Shuffling into the bathroom, the deep, uncomfortable pain on his back became more noticeable. Looking into the mirror, Matt gasped at the blood red nail marks all down his back. The long scratches started at his shoulder blades and ran all the way down to right above his ass, running across the top, right at the bottom of his neck. 

“Motherfucker,” Matt cursed, straining his neck so he could see his entire back.

“It’s your own fault, Dierkes. You know you went way too far with her tonight,” he scolded himself. 

But the fact of the matter was this; the reason for the deep nail marks all over his back was a sign of a job well done. He fucked her well. He made her feel good and accomplished his responsibility in making sure his woman was pleasured and loved the way she deserved. The marks were her sign of ownership of him, and he would proudly wear them. 

Slipping into bed next to her, Matt pulled her in closer to him and nestled his face into her back, the scent of her hair engulfing his nostrils as he fell asleep. 

The morning sun poured through the curtains, dragging Y/N out of a deep sleep. She was sore between her legs and was sure walking properly would prove to be a challenge. Her shoulder hurt, possibly from a bite mark and her scalp held faint traces of being pulled too hard. 

But the visions of last night that danced behind her eyes made her pussy tingle and she clenched her legs together tightly, hoping to feel any trace of Matt left behind. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

Matt walked out of the bathroom, freshly showered. His damp hair hung loosely around his shoulders, as droplets of water dripped onto his skin. The scent of his body wash was strong, awakening Y/N’s senses and making her more alert this time of the morning than she normally would be.

Matt looked delicious, and she suddenly found herself wanting him inside her no matter how sore she was. Sitting up, she realized she was still naked beneath the sheets and quickly pulled the sheet up to cover herself. 

“Really? Playing the modest card this early in the morning,” Matt teased, raising an eyebrow at her. She grinned, letting the sheet go.

It fell, revealing her naked breasts to his alluring eyes. 

Nudging him back, she got down on her knees and instantly took Matt's cock completely into her mouth, sliding all the way down to its base until the tip hit the back of her throat. 

Matt groaned, unable to control himself. He went to her and pulled the blankets back as she undid the towel that hung tightly to his hips, allowing it to fall to the floor.

Y/N licked her lips at the sight. His tip was swollen and pink and already leaking precum. It was maddening for her not to have him in her mouth. 

“Jesus, baby,” Matt groaned, looking down and watching her pretty little mouth fuck him. The way her tongue slid up and down his shaft hit a nerve, turning him into a moaning, panting mess. 

“Fuck. Fuck baby, right there, just like that. Yeah. Oh God!” 

Matt's head fell back and he stared straight up at the ceiling, giving in completely to the way her mouth and lips ran over his cock soaking it with her saliva and  massaging and sucking it unmercifully. 

He looked back down, tangling his fingers in her hair before spreading his legs more, holding her head as she continued fucking him at the perfect tempo. 

“Is this payback for last night? Because I was too rough on you?”  

Y/N didn't answer, just locked her hands around his thighs, fingertips pressing hard into his skin. More of her spit tricked down her chin, dripping to the floor.

“Doesn’t matter if it is or not. I'm addicted to the way you're mouth fucks me, damn,” Matt muttered, running his hand down the side of her face.

“Oh God, right there, just like that! Don't stop, baby don't fucking stop,” Matt moaned, thrusting into her mouth over and over. She gaged a few times and clenched her hands around his thighs tighter, but didn't let up on what her mouth was busy doing. 

Matt's legs began to shake violently, an explicit sign that his end was near. 

The moment she nipped the head, circling the tiny hole in the center with the tip of her tongue, it sent Matt over the edge in the most aggressive yet fulfilling way possible. 

“Goddammit, motherfucker,” he yelled, shooting his cum into the back of her throat. He tightly held her in place, forcing her to swallow all of it, thrusting a few more times just to milk the last little bit.

When he let her go, Y/N collapsed already spent and out of breath. Matt sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for his heart rate to slow and his legs to stop shaking. 

“I think I might need another shower after that. Shit.” 

“Mmm, you liked that, huh?” Y/N smirked, climbing onto his lap. 

“Oh yeah, I liked that. It's been a while since you fucked me that good.” 

They kissed, a slow meaningful kiss, giving Matt shivers at the taste of himself on her tongue. 

She laid her hands on his shoulders, and ran them down his back, feeling the welts just as Matt seethed in pain.

“What happened?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.  

“You happened,” Matt chuckled even though he was being serious. 

“Holy shit, Matt!” she exclaimed, climbing off him to and around to look at his back. 

“I did that! Oh my, I'm so freaking,” 

Matt grabbed face and kissed her hard, stealing all the breath in her lungs. 

“No.” 

“But,”

Matt kissed her again. 

“No.” 

Y/N blinked a few times before looking back at the nail marks on her boyfriend's back. 

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Matt lifted her head up, grinning at her sweet face. 

“No worse than I hurt you. I was too hard on you last night.”

Y/N's face softened at Matt's words. 

“Maybe, but you didn’t leave any marks on me.”

“Are you kidding? Baby, I bit you,” Matt corrected her, pointing at her shoulder, which did explain the discomfort. “Not to mention your ass still has a handprint or two. I was too rough. I crossed a line. I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am. I just missed you so fucking bad, but that’s still not a good reason.”

“So does this make us even then?” she asked, peering up at him through her long eyelashes as she sat up on her knees and moved over towards him, capturing his lips with hers.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess it does,” Matt agreed, falling back into the bed with her.”

“You’re welcome. It was really Matt’s idea. I just made the food.”

“Hey thanks for inviting us over for breakfast Y/N, it was really nice of you.”

Noah gave her a quick kiss on her cheek as he grabbed another piece of bacon.

“This is a lot of food!” Folio chimed in, grabbing two more pancakes. 

“Yeah, well you’re growing boys what can I say,” she shrugged, laughing.

Noah and Folio laughed too, just as Matt entered the kitchen, shirtless and giving Y/N a kiss on the cheek and telling her something that made her laugh. That's when Noah caught sight of Matt’s back, immediately noticing the red scratches. 

“Holy fuck, Matt! What the hell happened to your back?” 

“What?”

“What? The red scratches? What happened?”

Matt just stared at him for a moment, unmoving. “Are you really that dumb, Noah?”

“Huh, what do you mean?” Noah looked from Matt to Y/N whose cheeks are a bright red, and that’s when realized what was happening    

“Oh, shit! My bad,” he chuckled, bringing his fist to his mouth.

“Y/N, made those marks on you, Matt?” Folio’s eyes widened in surprise. “What the fuck did you do to her?” 

Y/N groaned in embarrassment, wondering why the hell Matt didn’t wear a shirt. 

“Use your imagination, Folio," Matt answered, grabbing Y/N’s hand and pulling her closer to him.”

He whispered something in her ear, making her giggle again. 

“Are going to show the entire world what I did to you last night.”

“I will if I can. Marking me means you own me and I want everyone to know you own me.” 

“You can be so disgustingly sweet sometimes, you know that,” she laughed, taking her plate of food she finished making. “Shh, don’t tell anybody. No one is supposed to know I’m sweet,” Matt joked, winking at her.

But it wasn’t a secret. Matt was the sweetest to her and she loved him, madly.

[hollybell51]

If I don't have you

Navigation

Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding. 

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip. 

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?” 

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened. 

“That was fucking insane!” you burst. 

“Are you ok?” 

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you. 

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?” 

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers. 

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back. 

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.” 

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.” 

“A bullet graze!” 

“It’s fine.” 

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.” 

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !” 

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics. 

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes. 

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him. 

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you. 

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair. 

“Ethan?” 

“Yeah.” 

Another silence, though less tense. 

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest. 

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso. 

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted. 

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–” 

“No, (Y/N)–” 

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall. 

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast. 

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled. 

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?” 

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own. 

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–” 

No one’s coming. 

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.��� 

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!” 

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear. 

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him – were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him. 

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should. 

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards. 

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed. 

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle. 

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back. 

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath. 

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you. 

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure. 

“(Y/N).” 

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive. 

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. 

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.” 

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…” 

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.” 

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked. 

 You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know. 

“For yelling at me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–” 

“All that matters. You said.” 

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle. 

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.” 

The frown deepened. “Hm?” 

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real. 

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely. 

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.” 

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek. 

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up. 

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades. 

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face. 

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.” 

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.” 

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his. 

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too. 

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition. 

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt. 

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything. 

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt. 

“Huh?” 

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.” 

“All’s fair in love and war.” 

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose. 

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?” 

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine. 

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind. 

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?” 

Again, “Yeah.” 

You smiled. “What about me?” 

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.” 

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it. 

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity. 

“What else?” you asked. 

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.” 

Oh. Oh. 

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.  

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys. 

“Can–” 

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh. 

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair. 

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.” 

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.” 

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit. 

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders. 

“Hm?” 

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.” 

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?” 

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face. 

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises. 

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–” 

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad. 

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–” 

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders. 

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again. 

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail. 

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him. 

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification. 

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?” 

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.” 

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?” 

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again. 

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap. 

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand. 

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.” 

“Yeah?” 

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.” 

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?” 

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?” 

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.” 

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–” 

“Insane?” 

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?” 

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?” 

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.” 

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again. 

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.” 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin. 

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?” 

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other. 

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.” 

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined. 

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece. 

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.” 

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.” 

“Hm?” 

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?” 

“(Y/N)–” 

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist. 

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–” 

“In me.” 

“You sure?” 

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–” 

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter. 

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress. 

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed. 

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned. 

“What?” he asked. 

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?” 

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything. 

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?” 

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?” 

He nodded. 

“I still want to check them.” 

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.  

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?” 

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” 

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.” 

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?” 

“Yeah.” 

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.” 

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.” 

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.” 

“Guess I’m just that special.” 

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

[xetlynn]

Twilight- The Switch of Daylight: Chapter Two, Plans to Go

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[One] [two] [three]

We get home and Bella is acting like a child, giving me the silent treatment. She slams her door shut, Charlie shoots up from his spot on the couch.

“What happened?” I roll my eyes.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” I tell him, going straight to my room. I gently shut the door, pacing back and forth. Glancing over to my window. Fuck… Am I really going to do this?

Yes, yes I am. I quickly change out of the button up shirt and dress pants, going into sweatpants along with a tank top. I climb out of my window, stepping back from the building.

“Bella, I swear to god if your window is locked.” I huff, getting up on the tree then jumping to her windowsill. I slam it open and climb inside.

She jumps, standing up but comes to disappointment when she sees it’s me. “Thanks for the warm welcoming.” I sarcastically tell her.

“Get out.” She frowns, I shake my head.

“No, I need this conversation.” I stand my ground, she seems hesitant but lets me continue.

“You.. you do not understand what just happened.” I fold my arms, she scoffs but I cut her off. “You do not understand the control all of us had to endorse because of you.” I want to scream at her but I know it will do no good for anyone.

“You want to be with Edward, I get that. But you are risking their existence, and your own. You want some happily ever after but you do not understand that he is a different fucking species.” I become angrier.

“It’s not your fault tonight happened but god, if I had the choice I wouldn’t be this monstrosity!” I felt a lump in my throat of what could’ve been a sob but instead my eyes stay dry.

“You’re not a monstrosity, [Name].” She comes over but I step back. “I am, I can barely be near you right now because you smell like blood. Not that I can’t control myself it’s the fact that it is making my mouth salvate. That’s disgusting.” I grit my teeth at the thought of even feeding a little bit off of my sister.

“[Name]... I know you wouldn’t do that.” She frowns.

“Bella, I’m only here to protect you from anything. I will be by your side as long as I’m needed.” I finally place my hand on her thigh.

“I have to go do something and I’ll be back to talk more.” I assure her and she nods but I can tell she wants to say whats on her mind.

“Edward is going to kiss you goodnight once I’m gone.” I smirk and she gives me a soft smile as a thank you.

I take a deep breath, climbing back out of her window and jumping down. Alice and Jasper were already waiting down there for me, I take their hands and we race off into the woods so no one could hear us talking.

Getting to our usual spot off that hiking area I sit down on a fallen tree.

“Let’s get this over with.” I mutter, watching their every movements. Jasper still has dark circles around his eyes and I could tell I did a number on him. I felt sort of guilty. I know he didn’t do it on purpose but the thought of my sister being in danger blinded me.

“[Name] we have to leave.” Alice whispers.

“Where you guys going?” I cross my legs, she raises an eyebrow, confused.

“You have to come with, lovebug.” She mutters and I scoff out a laugh.

“Where are you guys going?” I repeat myself a bit harsher. She stays silent as if I’m going to become sweeter suddenly but after it doesn’t happen she huffs.

“We don’t know yet but away from Bella. Edward seems to believe it’s the best way.” She explains, I squint my eyes in disbelief.

“Why would you think that I would join, Alice?” I was utterly shocked she would assume I would just join them. I can control myself pretty fine. I don’t need that.

“[Name]-” “What would you want me to tell my father?! After he thought I went missing for a week months back?” I grew angrier, I stood up from the tree, Jasper spoke up this time.

“It’s what’s best for them. What are you going to say when you are 45 with no wrinkles?” He tries to convince me.

“I-” I pause to shake my head in disappointment, “I cannot believe this. You are asking me to fake my death right now.” I dryly laugh to myself, pacing in one area.

“You know how I felt when you first brought it up-” They try to speak up.

“Don’t.” I put up a finger.

“You guys just need more practice around blood. We don’t need to move across the world.” I exclaim but their faces drop, their eyes don’t meet mine.

“[Name], we’ve already set on leaving.”

“Well you’re going to have to leave with out me. I am not leaving my sister.” I stand my ground, I can’t leave her, she’s going to be devastated.

“Is he telling her right now?” I suddenly question them, Alice shakes her head no. “Tomorrow.”

“What will she be like?” I aggressively get closer to her but this time I don’t get an answer.

“Alice, what will she be like when he leaves?” Panic starts to set in, I lose her either way don’t I? I will lose her because of this horrible night.

“Alice!” I shake her arms, she tries to look away, Jasper wraps his arms around my waist.

“Hey, calm down.” He soothes me but I shove him away. “This isn’t right!” thunder emits in the sky as I shouted, next comes rain starting to sprinkle down.

“Please join us, [Name].” Alice begs me, she stays her distance but Jasper looked like he wanted to hold me. I think to the ground for a moment. Knowing what I’m going to have to tell them.

“No… I’m sorry. I’m staying.” I say in almost a whisper with the wind. As it grows stronger so does the water hitting the ground. I go to go over to them but this time they back away from me.

“We just got you back again.” Alice gently tells me.

“We went through all this pain of waiting for you.” She gets louder. “And you’re asking us to wait longer?” She painfully asks me.

“Alice, I have my fathers one life time to be with him. I have a whole existence with you. What’s a few more decades?”

“That’s a selfish request, darling.” Jasper mumbles, I huff.

“A selfish request is to ask me to leave my family.” I tell him, “If this is how you feel i’m not fighting for this anymore.” I wipe the rain off my face only for it to come back just as quick.

I make my way back to the trail and I am shocked I don’t get followed. I am disappointed to not hear my name or feel a hand wrap around my wrist to stop me.

At least say one more “I love you.” But as much as it hurts, I know they’ll forgive me and later understand as like I said, what’s a few more decades?

They next day I decided to stay home from school, pretending to be sick as I went to go to the Cullen’s to plead with them to not leave.

“Are you sure you’re okay home alone?” My father questions me, my eyes filled with sorrow but to him it might just look like I’m sick. He was worried, I could feel it. His heart thumping a little louder in his chest.

“Yes, don’t worry. I think it’s just a little cold. I feel like crap though.” I say in a lighthearted manner, chuckling softly at the end so he thinks I’m okay.

“Okay, I’ll call around lunchtime, but I’m hoping you’ll be napping.” He rubs my head and kisses the top of it before leaving. Bella had already left for school. She’s not exactly talking to me like normal anymore. Especially after last night.

Once I knew my dad was gone I hurried outside, entering the woods and running to the Cullens. I figured it was best so that people really did think I was home sick. Not lying to them. Getting to the Cullens I felt my anxiety heighten. Edward was there, same with everyone else.

Alice was already walking outside, the others following suit. She had a vision of me coming. I should’ve known.

“You’re here to change our minds.” She announces, I stay silent. Edward doesn’t stop walking though, he comes up and I could tell he might want to grab me so I back away.

“Don’t try it, Edward.” I warn him. I stare at him and his body was faltering. His energy draining.

“You need to come with us.” He speaks up. I furrow my brows at him.

“To hurt her even more?” I cross my arms. “It’s better than physically hurting her. She’ll die with us around her.” He argues.

“She’ll kill herself if we- You leave.” I shake my head.

“You’re wrong. She won’t do that to Charlie.” He tells me.

“But you’re asking me to. I’m not fighting this. I’m not going. And you shouldn’t either but it looks like you have your mind made up.” I huff, fixing my jacket. “I can’t believe you’re all going through with this.” I pointed at them behind Edward who all stood cowardly with this fake confidence.

“[Name], please…” Esme frowns but I just shake my head.

You guys should’ve left before the mess was made but instead you do it after.” I laugh because we all know I can’t cry if I wanted to.

“You know this isn’t what she wants. Why?” I plead with them.

“It’s the best thing for her.” Carlisle steps in. “If that was true you would’ve never invited her into your home.” His eyes flicker down to the ground.

“We shouldn’t have done that. You were right, we only brought pain to your lives.” Carlisle steps closer to me but again I step back like I did with Edward. I don’t trust them.

They could still force me to leave with them and I will never leave my sister and Charlie.

“I was angry.” I mutter.

“You don’t even trust us anymore.” Rosalie cries out, pointing out the fact that I keep stepping back.

“You guys want me to leave with you, I don’t know if you’re going to trick me or not.” I retaliate.

“You think we would opt you out of your own choice?” Jasper finally says something and I stare at the ground.

“You’ve done it before.” I remind them.

“Well then,” Alice clears her throat, walking away from the argument. A part of me wanted to follow her. The other part of me was glad to see her go.

“I should’ve never came here. Why’d I think you would change your minds?” I whisper, giving up. My hands falling down to my sides. I read their faces before I start leaving.

Rosalie with a stern expression, only faltering when she thinks I’m not looking.

Emmett wanted to say something but never did.

Esme was sad, she hid behind Carlisle who had a solemn look as well.

Edward was angry, but also remorseful.

Jasper… he looked betrayed and hurt. Something I wish I didn’t have to see.

I glance back at them one more time, all of them starting to walk away except for Jasper. He was holding onto me. He was holding onto the fact that I could probably change my mind and leave with them. But he knew. He knew I would never leave my family’s sides. I couldn’t, I won’t.

I felt like I was actually taking the biggest breath of air, filling my lungs that I don’t actually need to function.

For a moment I felt human with the emotions I felt.

All spiraling at me.

And for a second I heard my heart thump.

For a second my blood rushed through my body.

For a second I broke.

But just like that I healed. I’m not human, my heart didn’t thump. My blood stayed dry.

Masterlink: A&J

Im backkkk lol. Very sorry for the five month disappearance. A lot has happened but here you goooo also sorry this is short this is just to kinda ween my way back into writing this

[wolfchanslover69]

The fight

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In which y/n has a fight with Chan.

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Pairing: Bang Chan x reader | slight angst with a happy ending

A/N: Hii guys, I hope you enjoy reading this oneshot, I know it's a bit short but I haven't had inspiration for a while. If I made any mistakes do tell me because I won't realise it :D.

Warning: Mentions of the word fuck.

Word count: 1,3k

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Great, it was raining and I didn’t have an umbrella with me. The whole day had been shitty, and this was like a cherry on top of a cake. I usually loved how calming rain was and how it would make me feel like a new person, but not today. Today it felt depressing, heavy, like it was just adding more weight on my shoulders, making me feel suffocated. All the times I had for the past few months been alone, stressed, and tired, came back all together, double the usual.

I stepped out of the office building, starting to walk rather fast to my nearest bus stop while trying not to slip on the wet ground. I hadn’t prepared for rain today and was wearing my everyday work heels and a thin trench coat. The coat got wet fast, and the coldness of the water got into my bones making me freeze. The bus stop wasn’t far away from the building, and as I heard it, I could see my bus driving past my stop. I halted my walking and stood there in the middle of the rain, angrily staring at the stop. Of course, it has to be today that I miss my bus when it’s heavily raining and I have heels in which I cannot walk home. I can already feel the pain starting to form on my feet. Even my toes were starting to feel numb.

I started walking home as there wasn’t anything else to do. I did not want to, and would not call my boyfriend, whom I was ignoring at the moment due to my anger for his behaviour lately. He had been busy doing god knows what for the last two months, and when I asked him about it, I would get an annoyed answer for me to stop questioning and bothering him. 

As I walk, I see cars drive past me; some of them intentionally drive into puddles of water to splash me even more. At some point, I hear a motorcycle nearing me. The sound of the too familiar engine makes me walk faster and ignore the sound.

“What are you doing in the rain?” I hear his voice but don’t want to show him any reaction. I keep walking, ignoring him with an angry frown on my face.

“Hey, baby, can you stop?” I hear him ask with a soft and slightly worried voice. I wanted to yell at him that I, in fact, do not want to stop. I still pretend to not hear him and keep my pace.

“Hey, c’mon y/n! You’ll get sick if you continue like this!” He sounds a bit annoyed this time.

I try to resist myself but give in at the end and stop my walking, turning to face him. He’s driving his motorcycle with his famous black and red leather jacket on. He looked handsome, but I wouldn’t admit it to him now when I’m still pissed off at how he talked to me when I was just trying to figure out if everything was okay. He didn't have his helmet on, so I could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. I saw how his eyes were filled with worry but how he tried to cover it up with annoyance and anger.

“You haven’t answered me for days,” he matter-of-factly told me, but I knew it already.

“And I wonder why. It didn’t seem important to you for the past few months,” I snapped at him while turning around to keep walking. I huffed in annoyance, trying to get myself to calm down.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know how my work is, so you can’t blame me for being busy!” He drove a little past me stopping right in front of me. I stared into his eyes while trying to walk past him, but he wouldn’t let me. Chris drove a bit forward, blocking my way completely, and took a hold of my arm.

“Can you fucking stop walking? I’m trying to talk to you,” he angrily told me. 

“Oh yeah, Christopher? But did you stop working when I tried to ask if everything was okay? No, so let the fuck go of me and let me walk.” I tried to shrug my arm away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I’m sorry about it, but I can’t fucking help my job,” he angrily told me.

“Well, I don’t actually care if you are fucking sorry or not or if it’s your fucking job.” I knew I didn’t actually mean it, but I was just so frustrated and angry at him that I ended up taking it out on him.

 He still didn’t let go of my arm, and we spent a while breathing heavily and just staring at each other angrily. During this, I noticed that the rain had started pouring harder than before. I was starting to get really cold, and I soon noticed myself shaking from the cold. Chris seemed to notice this too as he let go of my arm and started to take off his leather jacket.

“Put this on, you are shaking from the rain.” He handed me his jacket. He had a tight-fitting, long-sleeved turtleneck underneath his jacket, but I knew it wouldn’t keep him warm.

“No, put it back on, you’ll get cold fast,”I tried to tell him, pushing his hand holding the jacket back towards him.

“No, baby, it’s okay. I know you get cold easier than me and have been in the rain longer than me, so please just take it.” He reasoned with me. 

I ended up giving up and took the jacket, putting it on. It felt weird to have a wet trench coat and, on top of it, a warm leather jacket. I knew by taking the jacket from him, I had silently agreed to go home with him, and maybe it was better like that. Chris offered me a helmet after I had put the jacket on.

“Hey, why don’t you have a helmet on?” I asked him. He averted my eyes, trying to hide away from my question.

“Uhh well, I may or may not have forgotten to put it on as I saw that it was heavily raining and got a feeling you were going to walk home…” I just stared at him in silence as he told me that. I know we just fought about the silliest thing ever, and we both could have acted like adults and talked this out, but the fact that he still was worried for me warmed my heart.

“You should put your spare helmet on then,” I told him with a calm and neutral voice as I didn’t want to fight anymore.

“No, I saved it for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he told me while turning his head slightly to the side.

“Well, I don’t want anything to happen to you either, you know,” I wanted him to understand my point and the reason why I had even been ignoring him; maybe this would make him realise it. We both were silent, and I started staring at my hands, which were covered with his jacket’s long sleeves. I didn’t want to talk about these kinds of topics anymore this evening.

“Now get on the bike; let’s get out of here,” he told me after a while, nudging his head to the seat behind him. I hummed as an answer as I threw my leg over the bike to sit behind him. I took a tight hold of him and hugged him from behind, trying to squeeze my gratitude into the hug. I may not say it at the moment as I’m still trying to act mad, but I am thankful for him.

“I love you, you know,” he told me silently.

“I love you too,” I answered him, knowing our fight was partly over.

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A/n: If you want to request something please do! (I don't write smut and do only Chan ff :])