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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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Yandere Bouncer

You feel perfectly safe getting drunk and letting loose, especially with your favourite bouncer to keep an eye on you. Well, up until the night you realise that every party has a price. Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley inspired, implied somno, 3.1k words

Y'know who you shouldn't trust as much as you do? Bouncers. Sure, most of them are great. Just trying to do their jobs, keeping people safe when the booze starts hitting too hard.

But not in your case. No, when it comes to you - the bubbly party girl who smiles at just about everyone - the yandere bouncer at your favourite club doesn't have such noble intentions.

He's a big guy. All the security guys are, but he's big even by those standards. Standard issue black t-shirt straining at the seams when he crosses his arms. Mean mug, always scowling at any drunk stupid enough to breathe the same air as him.

Girls and guys alike think he's hot, but no amount of liquid courage can stand up to his glare. Anyone who tries to flirt with him usually thinks better of it when they're less than two sentences in. He's not here to hook up in the bathroom or be a rebound situationship. He's here to work.

The first time he runs into you, he barely notices anything beyond your skirt. Short as hell, even by clubbing standards.

What, do you want every bastard in there to get an eyeful of your thong, sweetheart?

He doesn't say it out loud. Just scoffs and hands you back your ID. Doesn't bother to reply when you wish him a good night.

The second time he runs into you, you're a little tipsy already. Smiling up at him like you don't see the pierced eyebrow or the scowl. He's tempted to not let you in - club has a strict no pre-drinking policy - but then you bat your lashes at him and joke that pre-gaming is the only way anyone can have any fun at all in this economy.

He snorts and let's you pass. He doesn't fully recognise you - too many faces, too little light - but some subconscious part of him takes note of your perfume. Something bright and fruity that makes him think of summer punch and getting drunk on the beach.

You try and greet him before you leave, half hanging off your more sober friend. You yell something over your shoulder about having a good time and smiling more. He isn't sure what you're on about, but it's kind of cute the way you mumble a little when you're drunk.

He doesn't expect to see you again, nor does he expect to recognise you if he does. There's half a dozen clubs in this rotten city, and half a million pretty girls with too short skirts.

But he does.

Notices you standing in line because the people around you are cracking up, total strangers laughing at some lame joke you made. He let's his partner do most of the ID checks that night. Not really realising it, but wanting a chance to watch you.

Your jokes aren't that funny. You touch people too much. You've got a laugh that's a bit too loud. But people like you.

Total strangers chatting it up and smiling like they've met a celebrity.

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles. A few people in the front of the line flinch away from him. He doesn't bother reassuring them.

What is it about you? What makes you so magnetic?

When you're finally at the front of the line, you give his partner a megawatt grin and call her by her name. Ask how her shoulders holding up after that brawl last week.

You smile at him too, your fingers brushing his wrist when you take your ID back.

"Hey, Mr tall, dark and scary. How's the biz treating you?"

"The same as it was last week. Same as it's going to be next week," he grinds out.

You pat his arm - are you seriously touching him? You barley know him - and flash him that same beaming smile.

"Don't be so pessimistic, handsome. I see lots of booze and parties in your future."

He scoffs. "Yeah. I reckon just about anyone could figure that."

You aren't offended. You just wink at him and disappear, your new friends in tow.

When he finally goes on break, he asks his partner about you.

"Oh, she's sweet, isn't she? Don't think she's been coming here long though."

"Three weeks," he mutters. "She knows your name?"

His partner laughs and tosses her cigarette onto the pavement. "Guess so. Nice of her to ask, don't you think?"

He isn't sure what to think, honestly.

He doesn't see you for two weeks after that. And when you're finally back, he can't help asking you about it.

"Oh, I had work," you say with a shrug. "I'm very flattered that you noticed."

"Hard not to. There wasn't any commotion, so I figured you weren't around."

You giggle and slap his arm, as cheesy as a cheerleader in a slasher movie. Still, it's kind of nice. Girls don't really act that way around him. It's either shy or terrified. Bubbly and a little over the top is a nice change.

He watches you walk away, your skirt just as short as the first time he noticed you.

Damn, doll. You make it hard for a man to focus. Got my mind in the bloody gutter.

It's late when you finally stumble out of the club, your heels in one hand and your phone in the other. You're trying to order an Uber but your cracked and unresponsive screen doesn't mix well with your booze addled senses. He gives it five minutes before he intervenes.

He plucks the phone out of your hand and sighs when you sag against him, half murmured thank yous slurring against his sleeve.

Out past your bedtime, eh love?

"Where do you stay?"

You tell him, your eyes half closed and your forehead resting against his arm.

Telling a stranger your address? C'mon doll, you should know better than that.

He waits with you until your ride arrives, and then he walks you to the car. He takes note of the number plate, only half aware that he's doing it.

He leans on the roof, barring his teeth at the driver in something only half related to a smile.

"Drop her off safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure," the man agrees, nodding like a bobble head. "Wouldn't think of messing with her."

I'll break your wrists if you even look at her wrong.

"Right. Have a good one."

He raps his knuckles on the roof and watches until the tail lights fade.

There's an itch at the back of his brain that he just can't get rid of. Some annoying, rebellious part of him that keeps thinking about how warm you felt when you leaned up against him. How you're just short enough that he can rest his chin on your head.

The itch doesn't go away.

He keeps thinking about you until the weekend rolls around. What the hell do you do for work? It's hard to picture you in corporate - not when he's seen how low your necklines go. Pitching up to meetings and HR presentations when just a few nights ago you were drinking shots off a stranger's back? Not fucking likely.

...Although you would look pretty great in one of those tight little pencil skirts. Yeah, you pert ass would probably have your coworkers breaking their necks.

He doesn't see you in line until it's almost midnight. You look a little out of it. Constantly checking your phone, a half frown puckering your perfectly gelled brows.

He wants to pull you out of line. He really does. Not to give you any fancy VIP treatment - he wouldn't mind it though, he'd like to spoil you a little - but to just talk.

He shakes his head like a bull until the urge isn't quite so loud. Unprofessional, that. Showing favouritism. Not fair to the other people waiting in line. Still...

When he does finally get to talk to you, you aren't yourself. You cover it up with a smile, but even he can tell it's a poor veneer.

"I'm meeting up with my ex," you tell him when he finally gets around to asking. (It takes awhile. Has your ID always been this interesting? Shiny patterns. Nice typeface they're using now. And your birthday is exactly six months after his. Cute).

He doesn't know what to say to that. Isn't sure how he feels about it, either. Why the hell are you meeting some douche who you were one hundred percent right to dump? (He assumes it was you who did the dumping. No man in his right mind would let you go, not even if you're the type to swing a knife around on bad days).

"Good luck," he manages at last. "Hope he isn't an ass."

You squeeze his arm when you leave and he feels the ghost of your fingers for the rest of the night.

Your ex is an ass. All that and more. He can tell from the too heavy cologne, the pretentious boat shoes, the obnoxious laugh.

You're on his arm, smiling but not entirely comfortable. What are you thinking? Entertaining this overly polished turd of a man?

He stops you before you leave. Leans down and brushes his lips against your hair.

"You sure you're okay to go home with this guy?"

You give him a quick nod and a grateful smile.

He straightens, angry but not entirely sure why. He watches you walk away, his right hand clenching and unclenching around his radio until the veins stand out on his forearm.

You could do better than that, doll. You could be doing me.

He ends up finding your ex's name. Entirely on accident, swear. Finger slipped and before he knew it he was watching the CCTV footage of the front door, pausing when the guy's ID got flashed to the camera.

And now that he has that info, it's only logical that he checks him out on social media. You're a valued customer. He needs to be sure that the people you're associating with are safe.

Oh, and this guy isn't safe at all. Party animal, pussy hound. Sure, there's a pic or two of you together, but most of his profile is dedicated to shots of raves and cocktails and pretty girls.

You deserve better, don't you know that? Someone who can keep you safe when you're drunk, who can keep an eye on you when the clubs you like are filled with dark corners and shady drinks.

He's going to ask you out. It's only half decided - most of his brain pulling him one way and most of his cock pulling him the other. His heart split somewhere in the middle.

He's gonna be good for you, he knows it. Get rid of that overblown and overrated ex. Teach you which drinks are hopelessly overpriced and which ones are worth the cash. Not going to change you, no. That's what insecure men try and do when their girl likes to let loose on the weekends. No, he likes you just as you are. You need a bit of muscle to lean on, that's all.

But when the weekend rolls around, all his plans go swirling down the gutter. You're on your ex's arm again. Smiling too quick, laughing too sharp. But with him all the same.

C'mon doll, thought you were smarter than that.

You don't get a chance to chat. Your ex drags you straight into the club, barely waiting to get his ID back.

He wants to trade shifts. Abandon door duty and follow you around inside.

He doesn't. He snaps at the patrons and he bites his tongue bleeding and he clenches his fist until his nails dig into his skin, and he manages to not follow you.

The best decision to make, after all.

Your ex waits until the night is almost over to finally make his move. Or at least that's how it looks.

When he walks out of the club with his arm around your waist, it's clear that you're totally out of it. Barely standing on your own two feet, hair hanging forward and hiding your face.

He stops you. Of course he does. He's seen you tipsy and he's seen you blackout, but he's never seen you this bad.

Your ex tries to brush it off.

"She didn't have any head for the shots, that's all."

He doesn't buy it. Tilts your chin up and shines his torch in your eyes.

There it is. The fucking bastard.

Your pupils are blown out wide, not contracting at all even with his torch burning right into your retinas.

He knows you. Better than he'd like to admit. And he knows you don't party this hard.

He straightens and looks down at your ex with thinly veiled disgust.

"She's not going home with you."

The man laughs. "She's my girlfriend. 'Course she is."

He smiles. Or shows his teeth at least.

"She's. Not. Going. Anywhere."

The man freezes for a second, and then his smile turns nasty. "Who the fuck are you to decide who goes home with who?"

He wants to punch your ex in the throat.

He doesn't. Just looks at him, fingers curling into a fist almost as big as your head. Your ex is drunk, he's not as sharp as he would be sober. But his instincts aren't so dull that they don't recognise what's in front of him.

He's a bouncer, true. But more than that, he's a fighter.

Your ex can see it in the way he stands, can see it in the eyes that move too quick to follow.

And he's not just a fighter. He's a man with a whole lot to fight for.

Your ex licks his lips, too stupid to shut up.

"I'll call the cops on you, asshole."

The bouncer laughs. The first time anyone around here has ever heard it.

It's not a pleasant sound.

"Go ahead," he snarls softly, "Call them. And when they show up, why don't you also tell 'em the reason why your girlfriend is all shot up with special K, hmm?"

"She isn't -

"Don't even try it."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you away from your ex. The bastard at least has the sense to not fight him.

Your boyfriend starts going on about calling the club owner, getting him fired. But he doesn't bother listening - it all fades to nothing when he holds you.

There, the way it's 'sposed to be.

You're warm, burning up with a fever. (How hot does your cunt feel if your hands are already scorching?) He needs to get you checked out. Needs to make sure whatever shit your ex snuck you isn't mixing with the alc.

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. (Your lipstick would look so fucking good staining his cock).

"Mr tall, dark and scary. Gonna get me home again?"

He nudges you in the direction of the parking lot and you stumble, hands knotting in his shirt.

"Even better, doll. Gonna take you home myself."

You close your eyes the second he straps you into his passenger seat. It takes a minute or two to shake you awake.

He isn't an EMT, but working clubs means knowing all the signs of an overdose. You're on the verge of passing out, but you're not in any real danger. Breathing regular, heartbeat fast but not concerningly so. Lucky. Things could have gone a whole lot worse. As it stands, all you're going to suffer tomorrow is a bit of nausea and one killer headache.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles when you lean your face into his palm.

"You're totally out of it, aren't you? Won't remember a thing come morning."

You hum quietly, lips brushing his pulse.

"The hell am I 'sposed to do with you? You don't even have your keys on you."

He sighs and closes the passenger door. No help for it - he's going to have to take you to his place. (You, in his bed, where you belong).

You don't complain when the engine guns to life. A little beyond the realm of registering those sorts of things.

And you don't complain when he carries you up to his apartment, your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't mean to undress you. He's a lot of things, but not a degenerate. It's just when he finally lays you down on his sheets, it's clear that the straps on your dress are cutting into your. Gonna leave marks that burn in the morning.

Getting you out of your dress is the responsible thing to do. And if it has his cock twitching, well, that's just coincidental.

You're in matching lace underwear.

He fists the blanket until he stops thinking of beating your asshole ex into a dirt.

She was gonna give it to you anyway, you bastard. You didn't have to drug her.

He breathes out through his nose. Once. Twice. Calm down, focus on the here and now. Deal with that bastard later.

There. Much better. And look at you, burrowing down into his pillows. Do you like the smell of him, is that what this is?

He undoes your bra and tosses it over his shoulder to join your dress and heels.

Didn't he once hear that it's unhealthy to sleep with a bra on? Increases the risk of cancer or something. Yeah, that's why he took it off. For the sake of your health.

He watches you for a while. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the flickering behind your eyelids as you start to dream.

He should take a picture or two. It would be a shame not to. And what you don't know can't hurt you, right? All pretty in his bed. God knows the girls he brings home never get the chance to sleep. This is a rare thing, worth documenting.

The flash doesn't bother you. Maybe a few more. Just to make sure they're good quality. Don't want to look back tomorrow and realise the pics are all blurry.

Just a few more. Maybe a video.

You look good, but you'd look even better without your panties in the way. They ruin the view.

He hooks his thumb under the band and slips them off, his fingers almost brushing your cunt.

There. So much better.

He swallows and puts his phone down, some part of him screaming at him for being a bastard. Another part screaming at him for not being a big enough bastard to take what he wants.

"You're too sweet to end up in a stranger's bed, doll. Getting fucked when you're too out of it to remember."

The streetlight outside his window washes you in alternating stripes of dark and light. He leans down and runs a hand up your thigh. Soft skin, like a peach right before you sink your teeth in.

"So it's a good thing we're not strangers."

#Call of Duty #ghost cod #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #reader insert #yandere oc #x reader #yandere oc x you #simon ghost riley

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sidemari · 1 month ago

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• Aftercare •

Short headcanons about how they treat you after sex.

Characters included: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Keegan P. Russ, König and Simon "Ghost" Riley [separately] x GN!Reader

Mari's notes: Let me know if any of you want me to write for other COD characters. My requests are open.

After taking care of your basic needs, such as hydration, cleansing and reassurance, Soap will offer a “movie session”, in which you would watch something lighthearted together while exchanging caresses, kisses and confessions.

A COD post you may like.

John "Soap" MacTavish

As the movie begins, he pulls you into his chest, where you feel the calm beating of his heart against your ear. His hands don't stay still — they slide calmly down your back, sometimes intertwining with yours, other times just stroking your hair or your shoulders.

The confessions come quietly, as he shares funny memories, details of his daily life, and even his most intimate thoughts — the ones he usually hides behind the facade of a playful soldier.

"This protagonist has jokes as bad as yours." You laughed, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Are you implying that my sense of humor is lame? Because if you really are..." He squeezed your cheek playfully, but his gaze was more intense, with a mischievous smile. You smiled, feeling the tension increase.

"Oh, the character's is. But I can't deny that you have a special talent for bad jokes." You murmured, and the tone of your voice became lower, loaded with a slight but present desire.

"Come here, I still need you." He moved closer, the heat of his body enveloping yours, and his lips found yours again, but this time with more urgency and more intensity. Maybe criticizing his jokes was the best choice you made that night.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Words of affirmation! Expect this man to offer you, in addition to his comforting presence, all the reassurance you could possibly need after a night of intense sex.

You are the most precious person to him and he makes sure you know it.

After taking care of you with patience and dedication, he creates a small refuge just for the two of you. The room is softly lit, the temperature is cozy, and everything around you seems to slow down. He remains attentive to every detail: he covers you with a light blanket, fixes your hair so it doesn't bother you, checks if you are warm and relaxed.

In silence, he gets your favorite drink and a snack — something he knows will do you good — and sits next to you, watching you with affection. You realize, even without words, that in that moment he is completely present, completely devoted to the mission of taking care of you as he cuddles you in his arms and murmurs vows of love and devotion.

"You were so good to me..." He'd murmur against your lips before pulling you into a tender kiss. "Let me spoil you a little before you fall asleep."

You smiled, the warmth of his kiss spreading through your body, feeling yourself enveloped by both the softness and the intensity of the moment. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining, as if he were giving in to the desire to take care of you.

Time passed, between caresses and whispers, as the outside world disappeared and all that mattered was each other's presence. When Gaz pulled you back into a tight hug, you let yourself be enveloped by his warmth, your body relaxing completely.

"Rest... I'll take care of everything."

Keegan P. Russ

Despite being very reserved, he is extremely protective.

He will always make sure to make you comfortable: whether it is by covering your body with a soft blanket, massaging any sore spots with unusual mastery or even just cuddling you tightly while you recover your energy.

Even with the tiredness weighing down his muscles, he doesn't think about sleeping before making sure you're okay. His fingers gently run along your hips, precisely exploring most sensitive spots as a way to tease you — even if slightly. The pressure is firm, careful, as if he already knows every inch of you — as if he wants, with that touch, to convey all the love he feels for you.

Despite the rigidity that the world demands of him, with you he allows his shoulders to relax. From time to time, even in moments when everything seems calm, he squeezes you a little tighter, as if confirming to himself that you are there.

“It tickles…” You murmured against his neck as he traced circles with his fingertips against the skin of your hip. He smiled, amused by your statement.

“You are so precious.”

“Do you say that because you are trying to make me laugh or because you really think so?” You asked, your voice soft, but with a hint of teasing. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, his smile still vibrating through your body like a gentle wave. Your eyes closed for a moment, savoring the feeling of closeness before he answered.

"I say this because, to me, you are more than precious." He kissed the top of your head. "And you are all I want to keep close."

König

He reassures you of your consent and safety every single time he has sex with you for having sex with him can be overwhelming at times, due to his high stamina and the size difference between you two.

König finds it essential to make sure that everything that happened was consensual and that you enjoyed every second of it: even after the peak of physical surrender, he doesn't pull away. On the contrary — it's as if, after all this, the bond between you becomes even stronger. He makes sure you're okay, observing every detail: your breathing, the sparkle in your eyes, the relaxation of your muscles. Nothing escapes his attention.

He has a habit of drawing baths so that you can prolong the emotional connection you both developed for longer: he will take his time taking care of you while the candles perfume the room and he cleans your skin with slow, respectful movements but full of contained desire. This step usually leads to another round of sex, this time calmer but no less intense.

“Do you want to wear one of my shirts, liebling?” He asked, resting his chin on your head as he hugged you from behind.

“I would love to.”

“You look so cute in it.” He offered you his favorite shirt for you to change into. You took it with a shy smile, smelling his scent impregnated in the fabric — a mix of woody soap and something uniquely his that was impossible to name.

“You’ll end up keeping it inside your wardrobe forever, right?” He asked with a half smile, watching as you dressed it.

“Maybe…”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

When you first started having occasional encounters, he was relatively cold and reserved after sex, never staying with you until dawn nor even attending to any of your needs diligently. Over time, after you became his partner, he allowed himself to be a little vulnerable and then began to provide you with aftercare.

If he notices any sign of discomfort, whether physical or emotional, he responds with simple actions: he fetches fresh water and offers it directly into your hands, as a gesture of intimate care. He brings a warm, damp cloth, cleaning your skin patiently, preventing any feeling of vulnerability from turning into disconnection.

If the exhaustion is more emotional than physical, he adapts. He doesn't force conversation, he doesn't wait for words: he just stays there, laying next to you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest as his fingers, now more confident, massage your back with a steady rhythm, gently bringing you back to yourself.

The first morning you woke up with him still by your side was a surprise: his dark blond hair was messy, his voice was deliciously hoarse and his still naked body in intimate contact with your own body.

"Simon...?" You murmured sleepily, almost incredulous to see him still by your side.

"That would be me." He'd say as he caressed your hair with affection before putting it behind your ear.

“I… thought I was dreaming for a second.”

“If it is a dream... then don't wake me up."

Your heart clenched slightly, a sense of belonging finally taking over you after months — you had finally gained his trust and unconditional love. So you closed your eyes, leaned your forehead against his, and let the silence say what words still couldn't.

#soap x reader #soap smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #gaz x reader #gaz smut #keegan x reader #keegan smut #konig x reader #konig smut #cod x reader #cod smut #soap x y/n #ghost x y/n #keegan x you #gaz x y/n

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the-tiny-mia · 10 days ago

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Of Spilled Drinks and Spilled Truths (H.S One Shot +18)

General Masterlist

Summary: A weekend getaway with friends was supposed to be a break, but for Y/N and Harry, it becomes a turning point. After years of friendship riddled with unresolved feelings, some heated arguments gives way to confessions neither of them expected.

A/n: Hello, my loves! Here’s a smutty one shot with some good friends to enemies to lovers plot, i hope you all enjoy this!

Word count: 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, spitting, some confrontation between friends.

You needed a break—a well-deserved one. So when the group chat lit up with the message, “Roadtrip to Willowmist!” your eyes widened with excitement. Your 9-to-5 office job had been grinding you down, inch by inch, to the point where you’d even started contemplating quitting. But there were bills to pay: rent, groceries, your beat-up car, and a never-ending list of expenses that wouldn’t magically disappear.

Every year, you and your friends planned a road trip. And every couple of years, that road trip led to Willowmist—the cozy cabin owned by Eliza’s parents, who were generous enough to let your group use it whenever you needed an escape and the timing was perfect: it was May. The weather sat comfortably between warm and cool, ideal for hiking, swimming, and late-night bonfires.

Your friend group was a patchwork of personalities, a collection of memories, and an unshakable bond. Four girls and three boys: Aurora, Eliza, Harper, and you; Theo, Jasper, and Harry rounded out the crew. You’d been inseparable since high school. Even as life pulled you to different colleges and jobs, you’d stayed close, bound by shared histories and inside jokes that no one else could ever understand. At this point, you all knew too much about one another to ever drift apart—let alone become enemies. Normally, the trip always included all seven of you—plus the occasional “I’m seeing someone, can they come?” that inevitably added a new face to the mix.

You remembered how Aurora’s heart had been broken a dozen times (and how she still threw herself into love with reckless optimism), or the time Theo tripped and landed face-first in mud on the way to prom. Then there was Harper and Jasper’s ill-fated kiss—a spur-of-the-moment thing that had ended with Harper nearly gagging because, as she later admitted, she was into girls. None of you had known it at the time, but looking back, it made perfect sense.

And then there was you and Harry—the “typical friends” who, back in high school, everyone loved to tease about how cute of a couple you’d make. But that idea never quite stuck with either of you. After Aurora, Harry was the one you were closest to in the group. He was the friend you’d call and put on speaker whenever an Uber driver seemed a bit too sketchy. He was also the one who knew exactly how stubborn and moody you could get—and somehow, he never seemed to mind. Until recently. Lately, you and Harry had been clashing more often—not full-blown fights, but tense discussions that always seemed to end with you sighing, "I don’t really want to talk about this anymore," just to avoid things escalating into something worse. You weren’t entirely sure what had changed, but lately, Harry seemed irritated by almost everything you said. If you shared a funny video, he’d roll his eyes and mutter, “That’s lame. How can you even think that’s funny?” Or there was the time he showed you a picture of a redhead, casually mentioning, “This girl winked at me the other day,” to which you snapped back, “And? Like that means anything?” It was like every little exchange between you two had turned into a spark waiting to ignite.

The rest of the group had definitely noticed the growing tension between you and Harry. Whenever one of your “discussions” started, they’d jump in to ease the mood, steering the conversation before it could get too heated. Still, you couldn’t deny that you missed the late-night calls with him—those moments when you could rant about things that felt too personal or odd to share in public. But then again, you were stubborn. And giving in first? That just wasn’t your style.

Aurora: WILLOWMIST??? I’M IN!

Harper: I’m still seeing Becca. Can she come?

Eliza: Yes, of course! We have my car and Theo’s, but he’s bringing Cassie plus the food. I think we might need another car just in case.

Harry: Mine’s available too.

Theo: That’s settled then. Let’s meet at my place on Friday to arrange everything—rooms, cars, food, etc.

Aurora: YAY! I’m so excited!! You were excited. You always had a great time on the annual road trip. Now all that was left was to ask your boss for vacation time, and in three weeks, you’d be enjoying margaritas with the girls while the boys attempted their best backflips into the lake—or whatever crazy stunt they wanted. You just needed a break.

When Friday arrived, you all gathered at Theo’s apartment, greeted everyone, and slid onto the couch next to Harry.

“What’s up, idiot?” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“What’s up, arsehole?” you replied with a smile.

This banter was your usual rhythm—teasing and familiar—but somewhere between these playful jabs and the more serious arguments, the line was starting to blur.

“Okayyy, here it is,” Eliza announced, passing around a sheet of paper. She was crazy organized when it came to the annual trip—laid out in neat detail were all the meals, groceries, how much each person would pay, gas expenses for each car, liquor—everything.

“This looks better than ever,” Jasper said. “What about the cars? Which one am I in?”

“You’re with most of the food—Cassie and Theo—in his car,” Eliza replied. “I’m with Harper, Aurora, and Becca. And Y/N goes with Harry in his car.”

Everyone turned to look at both of you with unreadable expressions. You and Harry exchanged glances, then looked back at the group.

“What?” you both said in unison.

“Nothing,” they murmured, and you frowned, sensing they knew something you didn’t.

As everyone agreed on Eliza’s plan, the group scattered—grabbing beers and drifting into conversations about everything and nothing. You found yourself in the kitchen with Harper, listening to Aurora ramble on about some new guy, laughing every time Aurora made one of those hopelessly smitten faces.

“Why don’t you just invite him?” you asked.

“Oh no, we’re not there yet,” Aurora replied. “BUT WE WILL BE.” And there was that face again.

“Rori… get a grip,” Harper said with a chuckle, taking a sip of her beer.

Aurora made a mock glare at Harper and sighed. “Are you sure you want to ride with Harry? I can switch spots with you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you asked, confused.

“You two have been fighting a lot,” Harper said.

“Yeah, well, he’s been annoying lately. But if he can manage to not be annoying for four hours, I think I’m good,” you said with a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal.

“Right…” Harper said, smirking. “You both just need to shut up for four hours.” She chuckled, then flinched as Aurora playfully pinched her arm.

“Hey!” Harper protested.

“Girls,” you said, waving off the tension, “I swear it’s fine. Yeah, we’re not getting along like we used to, but that’s okay. We’re not going to kill each other in four hours.”

Harper laughed. “Well, if you say so. Just don’t come crying to us when you two end up yelling at each other halfway there.”

Aurora rolled her eyes but smiled. “Honestly, I think you guys need this trip more than anyone. Maybe some fresh air will remind you why you’ve been friends all these years.”

You glanced at Harry across the room, who was chatting quietly with Jasper. Despite the tension, you could still see that familiar spark in his eyes—the same one from all those years of friendship.

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Maybe this trip is exactly what we need.”

The thought made you feel a little lighter. For now, you pushed the worries aside and joined the others, ready to enjoy the night.

The night was winding down, and the group was slowly saying their goodbyes. You and Harry ended up together by his car, the quiet tension between you still lingering.

“Want a ride home?” he asked, opening the door for you.

You nodded and slid into the passenger seat. As he started the engine, there was a brief silence before he glanced over and said casually, “So, maybe after this trip, you’ll finally admit I was right about everything.”

You blinked, caught off guard, and opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Aurora’s voice came through the open window from where she was standing nearby.

“I think I’m taking Y/N home tonight. Don’t want you two turning a simple ride into a battlefield,” she said, opening your door.

Harry shot her a quick look, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and you let out an angry breath as his car left the driveway. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch places with me?” said Aurora going to her car “I’m sure, i’ll just get distracted with music or maybe i’ll sleep” you said

🌷

The morning of the road trip was crisp and buzzing with excitement as everyone gathered at Jasper’s house. The driveway was a chaotic blend of backpacks, duffle bags, and coolers being shuffled between the cars. Harper and Becca were already snapping pictures by the front steps, while Eliza checked her meticulously detailed list for what felt like the tenth time.

“Alright, everyone, let’s make sure we’re not forgetting anything,” Eliza called, waving the list like a baton. “Food? Packed. Gas? Topped up. Harry?”

“What about me?” Harry asked, lugging a box of snacks toward his car.

“Just making sure you’re actually listening" Eliza teased, earning a small chuckle from Jasper.

“Y/N, have you met Becca yet?” Harper called out, motioning you over while Harry busied himself adjusting something in the trunk.

“Not officially,” you said, walking over.

“This is Becca, my girlfriend,” Harper said, her tone warm with pride. “Becca, this is Y/N, one of the best people I know, though a little too stubborn for her own good.”

You laughed and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Becca. Anyone who can put up with Harper’s karaoke marathons gets my respect.”

Becca chuckled, shaking your hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard plenty about this trip—it sounds like a blast.”

“Oh, it will be,” Eliza chimed in as she passed by, lugging a cooler. “Especially once we start roasting Theo at the bonfire. It’s tradition.” Across the driveway, Cassie leaned over to Aurora with a sly grin. “Hey, is it just me, or is there something weird going on between Y/N and Harry?”

Aurora raised an eyebrow but didn’t look surprised. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know,” Cassie said, glancing toward Harry, who was now arguing with Theo about fitting a cooler into his car. “It’s like... charged, you know? Are they a thing?”

Aurora laughed, loud enough to catch your attention for a second before she waved you off. “Harry and Y/N? Please. They’ve been like that since high school. It’s their love language—bickering and driving each other insane.”

Cassie smirked. “So they’re not a thing?”

“Nope. They are now in an “i hate you” mood but give it time,” Aurora said with a wink before walking off to join Eliza.

Back by Harry’s car, he closed the trunk with a loud thud and looked at you expectantly. “Ready, or are you going to keep bonding with Harper’s girlfriend all morning?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m all yours for the next four hours. Try not to cry from excitement.”

Harry smirked, opening the driver’s side door. “Trust me, I’ll manage.”

“Alright, people!” Theo’s voice boomed as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s hit the road before Eliza has a heart attack over her schedule.”

Everyone laughed as the final bags were loaded and doors slammed shut. As you buckled up, you heard Aurora shout from across the driveway, “Remember, no fighting! Or at least wait until we’re all out of earshot!”

The group chuckled as the caravan of cars started rolling out. You couldn’t help but glance at Harry, who had a small, knowing smile on his face.

This was going to be a long drive.

The morning sun was starting to peek over the horizon as Harry’s car merged onto the highway. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between you, and for a while, neither of you said a word.

You stared out the window, watching the trees blur by. Harry tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road. The silence was heavy but not unbearable—at least, not yet.

“You want music or something?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Sure,” you said, reaching for the aux cable. You scrolled through your playlist, finally settling on something upbeat to lighten the mood. The opening chords of a pop song filled the car, and Harry let out a dramatic groan.

“This? Really?” he said, glancing at you with mock disapproval.

“What’s wrong with this?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just… basic,” he said with a smirk.

You scoffed. “Coming from the guy who listens to dad rock like it’s still the ’80s?”

“Excuse me, dad rock is timeless,” he said, and for a moment, the tension lifted as you both chuckled.

A few minutes later, he glanced over at you. “So, are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you said, feigning ignorance.

“The fact that we’ve can’t get along for weeks now,” he said bluntly.

You stiffened in your seat, not expecting him to bring it up so soon—or at all. “I didn’t know there was anything to talk about,” you said, keeping your tone light.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I mean. It’s like… everything I say pisses you off lately. And everything you say—”

“makes sense?” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended.

He glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road. The silence returned, heavier this time. The song ended, and the playlist moved on to another track, but neither of you made a move to acknowledge it. After a while, Harry spoke again, softer this time. “Look, I don’t want this trip to suck because we can’t figure out how to talk to each other anymore.”

You looked at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. “Me neither,” you admitted quietly.

It wasn’t an apology, not yet, but it was a start.

🌷

Eliza’s car was buzzing with chatter and laughter as they sped along the highway. Aurora was leaning back with her feet propped up on the dashboard, while Harper and Becca were cozied up in the backseat. Music played softly in the background, but the main soundtrack was their conversation.

“So,” Aurora began, twisting in her seat to look at the others. “Is it just me, or is something definitely brewing between Y/N and Harry?”

Harper chuckled, resting her head on Beccar’s shoulder. “Brewing, as in tension so thick you could cut it with a knife? or brewing as if they are probably becoming the biggest enemies ever?”

“Exactly!” Aurora exclaimed, waving her hand dramatically. “They’ve been at each other’s throats, but like… there’s something there, right?”

Harper rolled her eyes but smirked. “Oh, totally. Y/N swears it’s just because Harry’s being ‘annoying,’ but she gets so worked up over it. You don’t react like that unless you care.”

“Or unless he’s genuinely annoying,” Becca teased

Eliza, who had been quietly listening, finally chimed in. “Okay, okay, but hear me out—I might know something.”

All three of them turned to her, eyes wide with curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘know something’?” Harper pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

“Well…” Eliza hesitated, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Remember last year’s trip to Brighton?”

“Yeah?” Aurora said, practically bouncing in her seat.

“I overheard Harry talking to Theo one night,” Eliza said, glancing at the others for dramatic effect. “He said something like, ‘It’s frustrating how she doesn’t see it.’”

“See what?” Aurora gasped, clutching her chest as though this were the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard. “”She” as in Y/N?”

“That’s the thing—I don’t know!” Eliza replied, laughing. “But he sounded serious. And you know Harry never talks about his feelings unless he’s pushed to the brink. AND, who would he be talking about to Theo?

Harper’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s interesting...What if he’s into her and just doesn’t know how to deal with it?”

“That would explain why they’ve been so weird lately,” Becca added. “It’s like they’re trying to keep things normal, but it’s not working.”

Aurora clapped her hands together. “This is better than a rom-com. I’m calling it now—they’re either going to kill each other or finally kiss on this trip.”

“I’m betting on the kiss,” Eliza said with a knowing smirk.

“Should we meddle?” Harper asked, half-joking.

“Absolutely not,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “They need to figure this out on their own. Besides, the fireworks are way more fun to watch from the sidelines.”

The car erupted into laughter as they all imagined the chaos that might unfold, their gossip making the drive pass in no time.

🌷

The hum of the car engine filled the silence between you and Harry. The tension was palpable, like a balloon stretched too tight, ready to pop at the slightest provocation. Both of you seemed acutely aware of it, navigating this territory of forced civility.

“So,” you started, fiddling with the zipper of your jacket. “Eliza’s car looked packed. Wonder if they’ll even have room for their bags once they hit the liquor store.”

Harry let out a dry chuckle, his eyes focused on the road. “Knowing Eliza, she’s already calculated the exact cubic inches of trunk space available.”

You smiled slightly but didn’t laugh. “Yeah… probably.”

Another beat of silence.

“Did you, uh, bring anything for the cabin? Snacks or whatever?” Harry asked, his tone deliberately neutral.

“Yeah, a couple of bags of chips and some candy,” you said. “Not that it’ll matter with Aurora and Theo around—they’ll eat it all by day two.”

“True,” he said with a faint smirk. “I brought some stuff too. Protein bars and trail mix.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Trail mix? Are you eighty?”

Harry shot you a look, his brow arching. “Excuse me for being practical.”

“I’m just saying, nobody ever gets excited about trail mix,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide the underlying edge.

“Yeah, well, nobody gets excited about chips for the fifth year in a row, either,” he countered, his voice a little sharper than he probably intended.

You both fell silent again, the air in the car thickening.

This was it—the moment you both knew could spiral into yet another argument. But instead of pushing further, you bit your tongue, staring out the window.

Harry exhaled heavily, gripping the steering wheel. “This is stupid.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing. “What is?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Tiptoeing around each other, trying not to say anything that’ll set the other off. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Well, maybe if you didn’t always have to have the last word—”

“There it is,” he interrupted, Harry’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. He pulled the car off the road into a small clearing, gravel crunching loudly under the tires. The sudden stop made your body jerk forward slightly

“What the hell are you doing?” you snapped, your voice rising with the frustration that had been bubbling beneath the surface.

Harry turned to face you, his green eyes sharp and stormy. “I’m tired of this, Y/N. I’m tired of the constant bickering, the walking on eggshells, the... whatever this is!” He gestured wildly between you both, his voice rising in exasperation.

You blinked, taken aback by his outburst, but your own stubbornness flared up. “Oh, so this is my fault now? You’re the one who’s been acting like everything I say is a personal attack!”

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls in frustration. “Maybe because half the time it feels like one! You can’t even make a joke without it sounding like you’re trying to one-up me.”

You glared at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh, please. You’ve been nitpicking everything I do for weeks, Harry! And for what? To make yourself feel better?”

“I’m not—” he started, but then stopped himself, taking a deep breath. His jaw tightened as he looked away. “I’m not trying to make myself feel better, okay? I just—”

“What?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still firm.

“Nothing,” he said quietly, restarting the car and merging back onto the road.

You were mad, but with an hour still left in the drive, you decided against saying anything else. Exhaustion was setting in, and all you wanted now was a bit of calm before reaching the cabin.

The silence stretched between you and Harry for the rest of the drive, thick with unspoken words. Neither of you tried to break it, too stubborn or too tired to make the first move. Outside, the trees blurred by, but inside the car, the tension was almost suffocating.

Finally, the cabin appeared, surrounded by tall pines and the quiet sounds of nature. One by one, the other cars pulled into the gravel driveway, laughter and chatter filling the air.

Aurora was the first to jump out, her bright smile unaware of the mood between you two. “We’re officially here, and we all are alive and ready!” she called cheerfully.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you quickly opened the door, stepped out, and headed straight for the cabin, slamming the front door behind you.

Aurora froze, then gave an awkward laugh. “Well… almost,” she said, glancing at everyone, who looked just as uncomfortable

Harry sighed heavily, resting his head on the steering wheel before looking over at Theo, who met his gaze with quiet understanding. Theo knew what was wrong—and so did Harry.

The group exchanged uneasy looks, the happy arrival now tinged with tension no one quite knew how to ease.

Aurora caught the look Harry gave Theo and immediately picked up on the unspoken message. She bit her lip, nodding subtly to herself as if filing it away for later.

She stepped back from the group, pretending to check her phone but really watching Harry’s car. Something was definitely off.

As everyone started unpacking, the usual buzz of activity returned. Jasper and Theo carried most of the groceries inside, while Eliza directed who should bring what where. Harper and Becca helped organize bags and handed out snacks and drinks. Laughter and chatter floated through the air, easing some of the earlier tension.

Aurora lingered nearby and after a moment, she quietly excused herself from the group and headed your way. She knocked gently on the door before stepping in.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face but your frustration was still evident.

“Hey,” Aurora said softly. “You okay?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Just needed a minute.”

Aurora gave a small smile and sat down beside you. “If you want to talk or need anything, I’m here.”

“We had an argument…again” you said “I know…about what this time?” Aurora said coming near you and sitting on the bed next to yours “About everything, nonsense stupid stuff…” you said sighing “i really think this is it..this is were our friendship comes to an end”

Aurora’s eyes softened as she looked at you. “Hey, don’t say that. Friendships go through rough patches all the time. You two have been through so much together—this can’t be the end.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of it all. “It just feels different now. Like we’re not even on the same page anymore. Every little thing sets us off.”

Aurora reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Maybe you both just need some space to breathe. Sometimes distance helps clear the fog.”

You looked down at your hands, considering. “Maybe… but it still hurts.”

“I get it,” Aurora said softly. “But you’re not alone in this, okay? We all want this trip to be good—for you, for Harry, for everyone.”

You let out a shaky breath, grateful for her presence. “Thanks, Rori”

Aurora gave you a reassuring smile before standing up. “Come on, let’s get out there. Eliza’s schedule says today is a free day—no planned activities. Perfect chance to just relax and breathe.”

You nodded and followed her out of the room, the tension in your chest easing just a little. Downstairs, the others were unpacking and settling in. The cabin already smelled like pine and wood smoke, a comforting scent that reminded you why this place was special.

Some of the group were organizing groceries, laughing as they juggled bags of snacks, drinks, and supplies. Theo was stacking firewood near the porch while Jasper and Harper were debating which music to play first.

Eliza was busy organizing the kitchen, checking off items on her meticulously planned list, while Becca was chatting animatedly with Cassie near the windows.

You found yourself drifting outside, the fresh air filling your lungs. Aurora stayed close, leaning against the railing beside you. For the first time in days, things felt a little lighter. Across the door, you caught Harry’s eye for just a moment. He looked away quickly, and you did the same, neither of you daring to break the fragile silence.

No words were exchanged between you two — just a shared glance heavy with everything left unsaid. The tension lingered, but for now, it stayed unspoken as the day slowly unwound around you.

In the Kitchen Theo grabbed Harry’s arm gently but firmly, pulling him aside near the pantry “Harry, man, what the hell…,” Theo said quietly, locking eyes with him. “Look, I get it — things with you and Y/N have been rough lately. But this silence, the cold shoulders, the snappy comments? It’s killing whatever’s left of you two.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt mixing on his face. “It’s complicated, Theo. I don’t even know how to fix this. Every time I try to talk, it just ends up worse.” he whispered

Theo shook his head slowly. “That’s exactly why you have to try. If you don’t say what’s on your mind, what’s really bothering you… you’re just building a wall between you two that only gets higher. You risk losing her forever.”

Harry’s voice dropped. “What if I say something and it backfires? What if it’s too late?”

Theo’s gaze hardened a bit, but his tone stayed calm. “Then you deal with it. But at least you’ll know you tried. Because not saying anything? That’s giving up without a fight. And you’re not that kind of guy. God, do you really like her? go on and fix this mess”

Harry sighed deeply, looking over at the cabin where you were. “I just don’t want to make her feel worse. She deserves better than the mess I’ve become.”

Theo placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “None of us are perfect. But being honest — that’s how you show you care. That you’re willing to be vulnerable. You owe it to her, and to yourself.”

Harry nodded, swallowing hard.

Night had finally fallen over the cabin, the sky a deep navy blanket speckled with stars. Inside, the group had gathered around the large wooden table in the living room, the soft glow of lanterns and fairy lights creating a cozy atmosphere.

Eliza brought out an old, well-loved board game she’d packed—a classic everyone enjoyed. The clatter of dice and the occasional burst of laughter slowly chipped away at the day’s lingering tension. Harry and you found yourselves sitting across from each other, the game forcing a casual proximity neither had expected. For a while, the conversation was light—teasing jokes about who was the worst at strategy and who always made the boldest moves.

As the game progressed, the distance between you started to shrink, the walls built by earlier arguments slowly softening under the shared moments and friendly competition.

Occasionally, your eyes met across the table, and though neither said a word.

But then

Harper rolled her eyes and said, “It’s not fair! I should be the one winning — you’re all just ganging up on me.”

You and Harry both blurted out at the same time, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so bad at it.”

Everyone froze for a second, surprised by the identical replies. Jasper laughed and said, “Alright, alright, no team-ups! Let’s keep playing.”

The group quickly moved on, throwing dice and debating moves, but Harry and you exchanged a lingering look, the unspoken tension hanging in the air between you. Just as the moment stretched, Jasper, laughing too hard, accidentally knocked over his beer. The amber liquid splashed right onto your lap.

“Oh no, sorry!” Jasper exclaimed, reaching for napkins.

You stood up quickly, brushing at your pants. “Classic Jasper, I'll go clean this up,” you said, trying to keep your frustration in check.

Theo caught Harry’s eye from across the room and gave him a meaningful look — one that said, Go check on her. Harry immediately stood up and went to the kitchen, where he found you pressing a damp cloth against your shorts, trying to clean the stain. He stood there for a moment, saying nothing. The nerves were building up inside him—so this was it, he thought. Gathering his courage to speak, he was surprised when you beat him to it.

“Go ahead,” you blurted out. “You can say I look like I pissed myself.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” he replied softly.

“Sure you weren’t,” you said, rolling your eyes with a hint of sarcasm.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

“Talk? Like the talk we had on the way here?” you shot back.

“No, I mean…” he sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Okay, then. Let’s just not talk. Just hear me out.”

“And why would I want to hear you?” you challenged.

“Please? Just… give me two minutes, and then you can even slap me if you want,” he pleaded.

The silence between you was thick, broken only by the faint laughter and chatter from the living room. You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring at Harry with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion.

“Two minutes,” you said sharply. “Go.”

Harry nodded, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. His nerves were on edge, and for a moment, he looked like he might bolt instead of speak. But then, he met your eyes, his jaw tightening as if steeling himself.

“I know I’ve been an ass,” he began, his voice low. “I know I’ve said things that hurt you, and I know I’ve pushed you away—probably more than you deserved. But it’s not because I hate you, or because I don’t care.”

You raised an eyebrow, your arms tightening across your chest, but you stayed silent.

“It’s the opposite,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked back at you. “I’ve been pushing you away because I started to feel… things I wasn’t ready for. Things I didn’t know how to handle. And instead of dealing with it like a normal person, I acted like an idiot.”

“Harry,” you said softly, unsure of where this was going.

He took a step closer, the weight of his words visibly pressing on him. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I thought if I could keep things the way they were, if I could just bury it, we’d be fine. But I can’t anymore. Because somewhere along the way, I started falling in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, his confession knocking the wind out of you. Your breath hitched, your mind scrambling to process what he’d just said. You searched his face for any hint of hesitation or insincerity, but all you saw was raw, unfiltered honesty.

“You…” you began, your voice trembling. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know I’ve done everything wrong. I know I’ve hurt you, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. You deserved to know.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, the walls you’d carefully built around yourself cracking under the weight of his confession. A part of you wanted to lash out, to throw his words back at him for all the hurt he’d caused. But another part—the part that had always held a soft spot for him—wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your arms falling to your sides.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just needed you to hear it. To know that everything I’ve done—even the stupid, hurtful stuff—came from a place I didn’t understand until now.”

The sound of footsteps in the hallway broke the moment. Theo’s voice called out, “You two alive in there? The game’s getting intense, and Harper’s threatening to flip the board.”

Harry gave a faint smile, his eyes still locked on yours. “We’re fine,” he called back before lowering his voice. “I’ll give you space if that’s what you need. Just… don’t shut me out completely. Please.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his confession settling over you as he stepped back, giving you the room to breathe.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you wasn’t suffocating. It was heavy, yes, but there was something else there now—a flicker of possibility, of hope.

You returned to the living room, the hum of chatter and laughter greeting you as you stepped inside. The group was still gathered around the board game, arguing playfully over the rules. It all seemed normal, like nothing had changed—but for you and Harry, everything had.

Aurora caught your eye first, her brow furrowing slightly as she noticed the look on your face. You quickly glanced away, not ready for questions. Sitting back down in your spot, you tried to blend back in, but the weight of Harry’s confession was impossible to ignore. Harry followed a few moments later, taking his seat with a small, relieved exhale. He avoided looking directly at you, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to have eased ever so slightly.

Theo, ever perceptive, glanced between the two of you. His lips quirked into a subtle, knowing smile before he turned his attention back to the game.

Harper noticed something too, narrowing her eyes as she pointed her game piece accusingly at Harry. “You’ve got that look,” she said teasingly. “Like you just got away with something.”

“What look?” Harry asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he avoided the trap.

“The smug one,” Jasper chimed in, grinning. “But then again, you always look like that.”

The group laughed, and you used the moment to ground yourself, focusing on the lighthearted banter. The tension wasn’t gone, but it had shifted. Instead of anger and frustration, there was now a strange, unspoken understanding between you and Harry—an acknowledgment that something had cracked open.

Aurora leaned over slightly, her voice low as she nudged you with her elbow. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

She didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you for a beat longer before she shrugged and joined the game again. The evening wore on, and the atmosphere gradually lightened. Drinks were poured, jokes were made, and for a moment, you almost forgot the storm swirling in your mind. Almost.

Across the room, Harry caught your gaze. It wasn’t intentional—just a fleeting moment when your eyes met. But in that split second, everything he’d said in the kitchen came rushing back. You could see it in his expression: the relief, the vulnerability, and maybe even a flicker of hope. You looked away quickly, your stomach twisting into knots. The rest of the group might not have known what had happened between you two, but they could sense the difference. It was subtle but undeniable, a shift in the air that no one dared to point out directly.

For now, the game continued, the laughter grew louder, and the night pressed on. But beneath it all, the conversation in the kitchen lingered, an unspoken thread tying you and Harry together in a way that neither of you could ignore.

The cabin had finally quieted down for the night. The distant sound of crickets outside the window filled the room, a gentle reminder of how far removed you were from the chaos of the city—and the chaos of your own thoughts. Lying on your bed, you stared up at the wooden ceiling, replaying the conversation with Harry over and over again. His words were etched into your mind, the way his voice cracked slightly when he confessed: “I started to fall in love with you.”

Your chest tightened at the memory, a cocktail of emotions swirling within you. Anger, confusion, disbelief—but above all, the undeniable realization that you felt something too.

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustrated with yourself. After all the fights, the snide comments, the years of stubbornness between you two, how could it have come to this? But the truth was impossible to deny: somewhere along the way, you had fallen for him too. You hated admitting it, even to yourself. It felt like losing a battle you didn’t even know you were fighting. Yet, there it was—the tug in your chest whenever he looked at you, the way your heart raced during those rare moments when you weren’t at each other’s throats.

A soft knock on the door broke your thoughts.

Your heart jumped, and for a moment, you froze, staring at the shadow under the door.

“Y/N?”

Harry’s voice was quiet, tentative.

You sat up slowly, your pulse quickening. For a second, you debated ignoring him, pretending to be asleep, anything to delay the inevitable. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Yeah?” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause before he replied. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. Taking a deep breath, you managed to find your voice.

“Okay.”

The door creaked open, and Harry stepped inside, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He stood there for a moment, as if unsure what to say or do.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about… everything.”

Harry stood just inside the door, his hands in his pockets, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. His usual confidence was absent, replaced by a quiet uncertainty.

You nodded toward the chair by the window. “Sit.”

He hesitated for a moment, then moved to the chair, dragging it closer to the bed but not too close. He sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and you could see the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For pushing you away. For being such an idiot half the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know when it happened, or how, but somewhere along the line, I stopped just… seeing you as my best friend. And I got scared, Y/N. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I kept messing things up.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“All those fights, the stupid things I’d say—it wasn’t because I hated you. It was because I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. And I thought maybe if I pushed you far enough away, I could stop feeling like this.” He looked up at you then, his green eyes searching yours. “But it didn’t work. It just made me miserable. And I know I’ve probably ruined everything, but I had to tell you. You deserve to know.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. For once, there was no sarcasm, no walls between you two. Just Harry, laying it all out there.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “This—this changes everything, Harry.”

“I know,” he said quickly, leaning forward. “And I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I just—I needed you to know. Whatever happens next, it’s up to you. I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room fell into silence again, the weight of his confession hanging in the air.

“I hated you,” you said suddenly, your voice trembling. Harry flinched, but you shook your head. “Not really. But I wanted to. It would’ve been easier if I did. Because the truth is, I think I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it either.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in them.

“But you drive me insane,” you continued, a small, incredulous laugh escaping you. “And I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that you and I could never work that I don’t even know where to start, and maybe that’s why i wanted to be right all the time”

“We can figure it out,” he said, his voice steady now. “I know I’ve been an ass, but I want to try. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You stared at him, the sincerity in his voice breaking down the last of your defenses.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Harry’s grin softened as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. The air between you shifted again, the tension returning but of a completely different kind. It was warm, electrified, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He stood slowly, moving closer to where you sat on the bed. His eyes never left yours, searching for any sign that you might change your mind or pull away.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and cautious, like he was treading on fragile ground.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned forward, quickly, closing the space between you in a movement so instinctive it surprised you both. When your lips met, it was hesitant at first, a testing of boundaries, but that hesitation didn’t last long. Harry’s hands cupped your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release of everything unsaid, every argument, every stolen glance, every moment of yearning that had gone unspoken until now.

Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned against your lips, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His touch was gentle yet demanding, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real but wasn’t about to let it go.

When you broke apart, breathless and flushed, his forehead rested against yours, and his eyes fluttered open to meet your gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice hoarse, the vulnerability in his eyes unmistakable.

Instead of answering, you tugged him back down, your lips meeting his again with more urgency this time. You shifted back on the bed, and Harry followed, his weight pressing down on you in a way that felt grounding, solid, and intoxicating all at once.

His kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck, leaving a path of warmth that made your skin tingle. Your hands moved restlessly, exploring the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his back, as if trying to memorize every part of him.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with reverence and restraint.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your breathing uneven. “Harry,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. In one swift motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare. You had never been a fan of wearing a bra to bed, and the soft glow of the moonlight cast an intimate light over your exposed skin.

“Fuck,” Harry murmured, his voice low and rough as his gaze fell to your bare chest. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted slightly as he took in the sight before him. A wave of desire coursed through him, his body responding instinctively. Without hesitation, he leaned down, his lips capturing your left nipple. His tongue swirled over the sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from you. At the same time, his hand slid up to your other breast, his fingers kneading gently yet firmly. “Are you sure?” he mumbled against your breast “If you ask me again, I swear…” you murmured, your voice already breathless and tinged with pleasure.

Harry paused, his fingers teasingly slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. His voice was steady but laced with restraint. “I need vocal consent,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “I need to know this isn’t just out of lust.”

Your body ached with anticipation, and your frustration spilled out in a desperate plea. “Harry, I swear, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

A grin tugged at his lips. “That’s good enough,” he whispered before crashing his mouth against yours, his kiss igniting every nerve in your body. Harry tugged at the elastic of your shorts, and you quickly wriggled out of them, your hands already moving to his shirt. You broke the kiss just long enough for him to pull it over his head, and your eyes lingered for a moment, taking him in. His well-built frame, the tattoos scattered across his skin, and… the undeniable bulge straining against his pants. You’d always known he was big—years of seeing him in wet swim shorts that left far too little to the imagination had made that impossible to ignore.

Before you could dwell on it, Harry’s lips found yours again with an urgency that made your head spin. His kiss was intoxicating, almost desperate, as though he feared you might disappear if this was nothing but a dream. One of his hands kneaded your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, while your fingers tugged at the waistband of his trousers, eager to free him of the last barrier between you, Harry quickly pushed his trousers and briefs down in one smooth motion, letting his throbbing cock spring free, the tip flushed and glistening as it slapped against his abdomen. The sight made your breath hitch, a mix of nerves and anticipation pooling in your stomach. “Fuck!” he groaned, closing his eyes and quickly looking away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning as you held onto his shoulders.

“I don’t have condoms,” he admitted quietly.

“I don’t either,” you said, the realization hitting you. “Theo might have some—he’s here with Cassie,” you added desperately.

“I can’t just ask him for condoms now. What am I even supposed to say?”

“Fuck…” you breathed out. “I’m clean, I swear. Haven’t gotten laid in the last six months, and my last screen came back clean.”

“I’m clean too. I can show you—I have it on my phone,” he said, looking around for his phone. But before he could reach for it, you cupped his face in your hands.

“I trust you,” you said softly. That meaning more than just trusting him on that specific thing. “I’m on the pill as well.”

He hesitated for a moment, then muttered, “Are you… fuck,” before snapping, and crashing his lips onto yours again.

One hand wrapped around his length, pumping slowly at the base, while the other found the damp fabric of your thong. Tugging it aside, his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, making you whimper softly at the sensation.

“Shit,” he breathed, pushing two fingers slowly inside you. A small moan escaped your lips. “You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “Look at me,” he whispered as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“I need you,” you gasped, voice trembling with need.

Harry’s eyes darkened with hunger as he withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “Fucking sweet” he whispered against your skin.

He positioned himself carefully, lips trailing hot kisses down your neck, each touch setting you aflame. Every second stretched, filled with raw, aching anticipation, dragging his tip through your folds, slowly “Harry” you whimpered

And he finally entered you, slow and deliberate, you both froze for a moment, breathing each other in, hearts pounding in unison.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groaned, moving with growing intensity, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. “So fucking tight.”

You moaned at the feeling of him inside you, stretched perfectly, hitting every needy spot. “Yes… fffu—” your voice grew louder until he placed a hand gently over your mouth.

“As much as I want to hear those delicious sounds you make,” he murmured, pumping slowly, “we’re too close to Aurora and Eliza’s room.” You cursed silently, desperate to scream out in pleasure. You knew you were loud, so keeping quiet was going to be a real challenge. He began thrusting into you faster, filled with urgent need, feeling every inch of you. “You’re perfect... so good for me,” he groaned. “Fuck me harder,” you mumbled against his hand.

“Harder? That’s how you like it, love? Hard?” he asked, driving his thrusts with more force.

“Yes… yes, I like it hard,” you managed to say, but before you could say more, he slid two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded, locking his gaze on you, and you gladly obeyed “Look at me” he said still lost in pleasure “you look amazing like this” He pulled back, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness, your lips still tingling from the contact.

“Turn around,” he murmured, his voice low and urgent, as he gently helped you shift. His gaze raked over your curves, lingering on your ass for a moment before he delivered a sharp, teasing spank. With a slow, deliberate motion, he tugged your thong aside again, exposing your swollen, puffy core that ached with need. Without hesitation, he spat a warm drop of saliva onto you, the wetness spreading and glistening under the dim light. Then, with a powerful thrust, he sank back inside you, filling you completely once more.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding each deep, powerful thrust as he set a relentless pace. You bit your lip to keep from crying out but some moans escaped your mouth, the heat and pleasure crashing over you in waves.

“God, fucking pussy all mine,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. His mouth found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses while his hips slammed into yours.

You arched back, your fingers digging into the sheets as he stretched you perfectly, hitting every sensitive spot. The room was filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shallow breaths.

“Harry,” you gasped, barely able to hold back, “please, don’t stop.”

He smiled against your skin, a rough, hungry smile. “Say it again” looking down at where your bodies merged

“Harry…” you whispered, voice trembling, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips began to lift involuntarily, matching his rhythm as waves of pleasure started to ripple from deep inside you. “i’m….i’m about to” you moaned His hand slid from your hip to grip your waist tightly, anchoring you as your body tensed, muscles clenched.The heat in your core became unbearable, a delicious pressure pulsing and tightening until it felt like you were about to shatter. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding so loud it felt like it would burst through your chest. “Come…come all over my cock” he murmured against your skin, voice rough but steady. And then—release. A shudder tore through you, your muscles spasming around him as waves of bliss crashed over your body. You cried out softly, the sound muffled by the pillow, your entire being consumed by pleasure. He kept moving, slow and sure, prolonging the moment, grounding you as you rode out the tremors of your orgasm. Still buried deep inside you, Harry’s own control snapped. With a low, guttural groan, his hips jerked harder, driving into you with desperate need. His breath hitched, and his grip on your waist tightened as the tension built to an unbearable peak.

“Fuck—” he gasped, his voice rough and raw, before his body tensed and he spilled inside you, every shuddering thrust fueling the powerful release. You felt him fill you completely, hot cum now drenching your insides, warmth spreading through you as he held you close, grounding both of you in that intense, intimate moment.

Slowly, his movements softened, and he collapsed gently beside you, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily, connected and utterly spent.

You stayed still for a moment, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. The tension that had hung so heavily between you felt like it had finally begun to melt away. Harry’s heartbeat was steady against your skin, grounding you in the here and now.

“I’ve wanted that for a long time,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with a mixture of relief and something softer—something hopeful. “Me too,” you admitted, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He smiled, a tired but genuine curve of his lips. “Maybe this is the start of figuring things out. Together.”

You nodded, leaning into him, feeling warmth spread through you—not just from the moment you’d shared, but from the possibility of what could come next.

🌷

The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the cabin windows as everyone bustled around the kitchen, the smell of coffee and frying bacon filling the air. Plates clattered, eggs sizzled, and casual chatter floated through the room, but there was an unspoken agreement—no one was quite ready to bring up what had happened the night before.

You and Harry sat a bit apart on the sofa, exchanging shy smiles and quiet giggles, both pretending to focus on the morning but clearly still wrapped up in your own bubble. Last night was still a secret between both. Or so you thought.

Suddenly, Aurora appeared in the kitchen frowning “Thanks, Theo and Cassie, for fucking so loudly last night,” she said loudly, teasing. “I couldn’t even mute the sounds with my noise-cancelling headphones.”

Everyone froze, exchanging confused glances. Cassie blinked, genuinely puzzled. “We didn’t fuck last night. I was too tired—I fell asleep pretty quickly,” she replied, her voice calm.

Everyone was confused, if Theo and Cassie didn’t fuck and Aurora was certain he heard a male and female voice then…

All eyes swung toward you and Harry on the sofa.

“They’re looking at us” you said whispering

“They are stupid don’t worry” he said making you giggle

In fact, they weren’t, they immediately knew everything.

Taglist: @hermionelove @mads3502

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agreeewrites · 7 months ago

Text

The Tortured Fangirl's Department - My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

| Paul Lahote x human!reader

summary: Paul hates you, but imprinted on you. He's not happy about it. 🐺🌲⛰️🌧️

cw: violence, gore, toxic relationship, Paul being an asshole, drinking

an: forever #teampaul.

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You arrived in Forks on a research grant, studying Old Wood Forests for your Masters Degree in Environmental Science. As you conduct your research, you feel more and more at home in Washington, and immerse yourself in the local community and history.

The more you learn about the history of the Quileute Tribe and it's connection to the surrounding ecosystem, the more you dig, until eventually you uncover a secret never meant for human eyes.

The Quileutes are a pack of werewolves, living in secret on the Reservation.

Of course, they quickly figure out that you're onto them, and you're dragged into a harrowing trial with Chief Billy Black and the pack’s alpha, Sam Uley. After hours of deliberation, and you begging for your life, they decide to allow you to live on one condition: you remain in Forks and never publish what you've found.

You agree instantly, grateful to be spared, and the pack brings you into the inner circle, including putting you up in a small house on the edge of La Push.

All seems to have worked out swimmingly, until Emily invites you to the alpha’s home for a bonfire so you can formally meet everyone.

Paul Lahote was livid when he learned that Sam had spared you. An outsider, a traitor. If it was up to him, you would have long ago been forest food, their secrets safe within the soil.

Paul had never met you, but he didn't trust you, didn't like the way you weaseled yourself into his beloved family. You were good as dead, as far as he was concerned.

That is, until he walks into Emily's kitchen, finding you peeling potatoes at the table, laughing at some joke Embry told, and his world imploded.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Six months later

Whoever said imprinting was the world's greatest blessing was full of fucking shit.

Paul glared at you across the fire, nibbling on a s’more and nursing a beer as if you fucking belonged here. Those were his beers. The packs s'mores.

What he would really like to know, is where you got the fucking audacity.

“Think louder, would’ya?” Jacob teased, knocking his shoulder. “She figured out what was making the fern grove sick, she deserves a beer.”

Paul rolled his eyes, throwing back the rest of his beer and stomping off to the booze table. Who cares about fucking plants, anyways?

You flicked your h/c hair over your shoulder, the glossy waves reflecting the orange firelight. Seth cracked some lame joke and you burst out laughing, the sound like the first spring rain.

Pain bloomed in chest, an ache he felt to the marrow, and he had to grip the table to stay upright, had to look away from your pretty smile. A war waged within him. Make you laugh again, or ensure it's your final one?

The table cracked under his grip.

“Lahote,” Sam warned in his mind. “Easy.”

Paul eased his grip, tried to control his breathing, his anger. He'd worked so hard on managing his rage, he wouldn't let you ruin that progress.

You'd already ruined everything else in his life.

Carefully, he stepped away, ensuring the table wasn't about to collapse before sitting back down beside Jacob with a fresh beer. He should just go inside, or out on a patrol. Anything but sit here and suffer your existence.

But something rooted him to the log, periodically scanning the perimeter behind you to ensure nothing pale and sparkly lurked in the shadows.

If anything would have the pleasure of ending your little existence, it would be him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul seemed extra scowly tonight, his handsome face pinched in perpetual disdain.

You laughed a little louder at Seth's decidedly not funny impersonation of Sam, just to see Paul's frown deepen. And it did, his ire as predictable as a clock.

You knew he had imprinted on you, everyone within a ten miles radius knew he imprinted on you, but somehow, it only seemed to deepen his loathing.

If only they'd seen his face when he first saw you.

It was probably cruel of you to exploit his involuntary affliction, but you just couldn't help yourself. He just made it so easy. And it didn't help that he was hot as fuck when the claws came out.

You polished off your beer, enjoying the gentle buzz humming in your veins. A terrible, wicked idea popped into your head.

Moving towards the table, you snagged a bottle of whiskey, the one you happened to know was Paul's favorite, and poured yourself a micro shot. His dark eyes were already on you, glaring a hole into your back. Fighting a smirk, you slammed the shot back. You let out a small, deliberate moan as the alcohol burned its way through the chill lingering on your skin.

Every unpaired wolf perked up a bit at the sound, those whores, and you could practically feel the rage buffeting off Paul as he stared at you.

“You have a deathwish, girl.” Leah teased, offering you another shot. “I like it.”

You grinned up at her, accepting the liquor. Leah flinched then, her smile pulling into a grimace, and she took the shot back before you could drink it.

“You might have a deathwish, but I sure don't.” She swallowed the shot herself, patted you sympathetically on the shoulder, and returned to her spot by Seth.

The rest of the night, the pack continued to snatch drinks from you. You couldn't even sneak a sip, with their ridiculous hearing and sense of smell catching you as soon as the alcohol touched your lips.

Even Seth slapped a shot out of your hand.

“What the fuck!” You shouted at him, your buzz very nearly gone.

Seth winced. “His orders,” he said, tilting his head towards Paul, who was busy tearing into a turkey leg.

I think the fuck not.

You marched over to him, snatched his sweating, unopened can of beer off the table, and jammed your pocket knife into it. With a crack, you opened it and pressed your mouth to the hole, shot-gunning it in ten seconds flat.

A personal record.

As soon as you dropped the empty can onto the ground, you regretted all of your life choices.

Paul was on you before you had a chance to step backwards, one massive hand around your throat, the other gripping your pocket knife.

Terror lanced through you, and you watched his pupils dilate as he started down you, white teeth bared. It took you a moment to register that you could still breathe, that he wasn't actually hurting you. In fact, he'd been handling that poor turkey leg more roughly that he was currently holding you.

“Leah was right,” he growled, the sound raising the hair on your arms. “You do have a deathwish.”

“You don't get to control what I can and can't do,” you bit back, pushing your face closer to his to prove that you weren't afraid.

Even though you definitely were afraid, and a little aroused. But mostly afraid.

His nostrils flared when a pulse of desire made your pussy clench, but you couldn't find it in yourself to embarrassed. You knew you turned him on too. And it didn't help that your bodies fit together too right, a jagged pair of puzzle pieces.

“Paul, back off,” Sam ordered. The pack was frozen around you, afraid that one wrong move would result in you losing your throat.

Paul squeezed a little tighter, letting you feel the power he had in this moment. It would be nothing for him to crush your windpipe, to snap your neck.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath tickling the hair around your ear. “I think I can,” he whispered.

He took a step back, and as soon as his hand fell away, Jacob tackled him in his wolf form, creating several feet of space between you.

Paul shifted then, his grey wolf exploding from within, and knocked Jacob backwards. They began to fight in earnest, growling and gnashing as they tumbled through the grass.

Guilt killed the last dregs of your buzz, and your ego. Why did you have to push him? Nothing good could come of it, and it only made him hate you more.

You took off towards your house before the fighting could get any worse, kicking yourself for being so fucking stupid.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Y/n didn't come around for two weeks after that, except to go the store or the library. Paul would know, your house was his first and last stop on every perimeter check.

He'd been visiting even more the last week or so, your absence an unbearable itch under his skin. It was like missing a front tooth, a constant distraction, and he couldn't not prod at it, even though it hurt.

The feeling of your fluttering pulse beneath his fingers became the rhythm of his life. It was burned into his memory, the way you looked up at him, eyes round with fear, the smell of your arousal reaching like hands to squeeze his brain, lulling the beast in his mind to docility.

Every time he looked at you, he saw his forever. A forever of home cooked meals, laughter, warmth. A life that was stolen from him. A life he didn't deserve.

He refused to be domesticated. Especially not by a nosy, manipulative, stubborn little human like you.

It was better you stayed away. That was what he wanted this entire time. Wasn't it?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You couldn't not attend Jacobs birthday party, no matter how badly you wanted to avoid a certain dagger-eyed dime piece.

So you put on a bikini, wide-leg jeans, and an oversized quarter zip, and made your way to the beach. God knows why he wanted to have a bonfire on the beach in fucking October, but it's not like they got cold.

You and Emily would have to stick it out together. Hopefully Sam was considerate enough to pack a blanket.

Everyone was already on the beach, splashing in the frozen water or chatting around the fire. Seth spotted you first.

“Y/n!” He shouted, bounding over to you, shirtless and sandy.

“Are you insane?” You laughed. “It's like 40 degrees!”

“Aw, c’mere.” He wrapped you up in a bear hug, the heat of his skin chasing away the chill already biting through your clothes.

You buried your nose into his shoulder, the tip already numb. “Fuck you guys, seriously,” you mumbled.

Suddenly, Seth was wrenched away from you and you stumbled forward, into a tan brick wall of muscle.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Paul snapped, righting you on the uneven sand before quickly dropping his hands.

“My house?” You answered, quirking an eyebrow. Rarely did he ever address you this directly. Your pulse raced in your chest, terrified, thrilled to see him again. Did he miss me?

“Why?” He demanded.

You couldn't answer him. What were you supposed to say, that you were hiding from him? That you were embarrassed by your own desperation to be close to him? That you craved his attention, his touch, even if it was rough?

At every interaction, he broke you a little bit more. Left you rougher around the edges. But a part of you loved it, craved it. His passion made you feel alive.

“Got sick of your fucking attitude,” you said instead. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say hello to the birthday boy.” You pushed past him, trudging through the sand to Jacob, who was watching from the edge of the water with a bewildered expression.

You shirked your clothes as you went, not caring about the cold any more. Your loathing, your hunger, would keep you warm.

Down to your cherry red bikini, you threw your arms around Jacobs neck, pressing a loud, smacking kiss into his cheek. “Happy birthday, Jake!”

He kept his arms wide, chuckling nervously. “Thanks, y/n. I think the water is a little cold for you—”

“Don't care!” You sing-songed, releasing him and wading deeper into the water. It was definitely too cold for you, the bones in your feet already aching and tingly.

“Just don't get your hair wet—”

You dove into the water, the temperature knocking the air from your lungs, making your whole body clench in aversion. You popped up on the other side, splashing an arc of water at him. “I'll live,” you replied.

He shrugged, splashing you back, and you played in the water with other wolves until your lips started to turn blue, your body shivering too hard to stand upright.

“Y/n, out of the water!” Sam shouted from the shore.

“B-b-but I'm h-hav-ving f-f-f-fun!”

“Now.”

“I'm f-f-fin-n-ne!”

Suddenly, you were airborne, strong arms scooping you up out of the water with a thick blanket. You yelped in surprise, looking up to see Paul, still dressed despite being waist-deep in the water, bundling you into his chest with the blanket wrapped around you.

“H-hey!” You protested, a violent shiver making your teeth clack together.

“Another word and I'll drown you,” he snapped, tucking your toes against his scalding hot ribs as he carried you out of the water.

“F-f-fuck y-y-ou!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul held you close to his chest, your body shaking so hard it was difficult to keep the quilt tucked around you. Your lips were far too blue for his liking, and your teeth were chattering so hard he feared they might crack.

Jacob should have never let you get into that water—no, you weren't Jacob’s responsibility. You were his, as loath as he was to admit it.

You curled into him, the tip of your nose an icecube against his clavicle. “S-s-sorry,” you mumbled.

He looked down at you, shocked.

“For almost killing yourself? Why would I give a shit?”

You fell quiet again, and guilt stabbed him through the chest. He heard your heart rate begin to slow, the cold still taking it's toll. You were so frozen, steam was rising from his skin where you touched, leaving a trail as he carried you to the fire.

He set you down on a pile of blankets as close as he could get to the fire without burning your eyelashes off. He wrapped you up in a dry quilt, then another, and planted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his legs on either side of yours.

“W-what are you—”

“Not a word,” he growled. You were still shivering, your familiar scent tinged with salt water and traces of Jacob and Seth.

He fought against the jealous rage that stirred in stomach, instead focusing on your heart rate, your unsteady breathing.

The pack circled nervously, unsure if they should intervene. When Seth came a little too close, mumbling something about your clothes, Paul growled, a low, menacing rumble from his chest, and Seth scampered off.

The scent of fear spiked when he growled, and he found himself shushing you, burying his head into the blankets against the back of your neck. It was involuntary, acting on the urge to comfort you before he'd even processed it. But it seemed to settle you, so he remained.

It settled him too, the now rhythmic thump of your heart, your even, almost drowsy breathing.

“Can Emily give her a drink?” Sam asked a little while later through the mind connection, almost at a whisper so Paul didn't startle.

“Yes,” Paul answered, and a few moments later, Emily appeared, passing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

The chocolatey smell mixed with your scent was almost too much, so sweet and decadent. He was beginning to melt like the giant marshmallow on top.

“Hey,” you whispered after a few sips, your voice back to normal

He didn't correct you for speaking, his eyes closed as he wallowed in your scent like a dog in the mud.

“Paul.”

“Hm?” He grunted, lifting his head.

“I'm starting to sweat.”

Reality rushed back to him, shattering the haze in him mind. What the fuck was he doing? You fooled him, just like you fooled the rest of them.

He wrenched away from you, springing to his feet. Your scent was all over him, embedded in his skin, his hair. Driving him insane. You drove him fucking insane.

“Paul, wait.” You scrambled to your feet, dropping one of the blankets, flashing him a glimpse of your little bikini as you reached for him. Fuck, how did he forget your were in a bikini?

“Fuck off, y/n,” he snarled, and you staggered back.

“But—”

“The only reason I pulled you out of that fucking water because of you die, I do to. I don't fucking care about you, imprint or not. You mean nothing to me. You're better off getting that through your thick fucking skull.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, brutal and scathing, and he watched your heart break.

Maybe if he left you in a pile of broken parts on the fucking floor, he'd finally be rid of you.

The wolf came then, shredding the last of his humanity, and he took off into the woods, diving through bushes and trees to scrape your scent off his fur.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul left you there, broken on the beach. Sam and Embry followed him into the woods, but the others descended on you, concern clear of their faces.

But you shrugged them off and let Emily, Emily only, walk you home.

You cried yourself to sleep, confused, hurt, angry, devastated. You'd felt something when he held you, like he was holding all of your pieces together, whole for the first time in your life, only to smash you apart again.

You didn't understand, couldn't understand, what he was feeling. Why he was so against this connection that was between you. It's not like he could escape it. The imprint wouldn't magically vanish.

You were tethered together, for better or worse.

For the next several weeks, he avoided you like the plague. If you entered the same room as him, he would leave it. If you walked through town, he'd disappear into the woods.

This place you'd fallen in love with was starting to feel like a prison. Both of you were trapped here, orbiting each other like hostile satellites.

Late one night, you were having a glass of wine at Emily's when frantic voices floated through the open window.

Emily was immediately on her feet, rummaging through cupboards, starting a boiling pot of water. A moment later Sam burst through the door.

“Lahote got shot,” he said to her, then ripped the tablecloth off the tables, sending your wine and the dishes flying.

Your heart dropped through the floor. “What—”

“Where?” Emily said, setting her first aid kit on the counter and starting to rip up some bandages.

“Wait—”

“His side, he can't shift back. Y/n, he—”

The others burst into the room next, four of them carrying an enormous gray wolf on their shoulders. Paul.

“Here, set him here.” Emily gestured to the table, and they slowly eased him onto it. “Oh, God,” Emily hissed, turning to grab more bandages.

Jacob grabbed you before you could get closer. “Don’t, y/n,” he said, his hands covered in blood.

Paul's breath was coming out in broken whines, his entire left side slick with dark blood.

“Why can't he shift?” You asked, panic rising in your throat, choking you.

Jacob didn't answer, his face twisted in pain.

Understanding dawned. If Paul shifted, he would die.

You shoved past Jacob, catching him by surprise, and rushed to Paul's giant head, his eyes pinched shut, muzzle stained with gore.

“Paul,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his head the best you could considering it was the size of your torso, digging your fingers into his thick fur. He was colder than he should be, his heartbeat sluggish.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, you shouldn't. He might hurt you when Em—”

You shook the alpha off, clinging tighter to Paul's fur, breathing in his pine-tinged scent. “I don't care.”

Emily returned with an amber bottle, passing it to you. “Four drops on his tongue. No more.” And she set to laying out her supplies.

You looked at the label. Morphine.

“Paul, baby, I need you to open your mouth for me,” you asked, stroking his cheek. “Please, it'll make the pain go away.”

His eyes fluttered open, the richest mahogany, and locked onto your face.

“Please,” you asked again, a tear snaking down your cheek.

His mouth cracked open, revealing the torn, bloody muscle inside.

“That's good, love. Just like that.” You dropped four clear pearls of medicine onto his tongue. “Good boy, thank you.” You gently closed his mouth again, his eyes still firmly locked on you, even as his eyelids began to drop.

You went to pull away and set the medicine on the counter when he loosed a heart-wrenching whine, his whole body shifting on the table.

“Shit! Hold him,” Emily ordered, but he bucked them off again, staring at you.

Realizing, you dropped the medicine and rushed back over to him, throwing an arm over his neck and burying your face in the dense scruff at the base of his throat.

He immediately settled, tilting his chin down to rest against you, his nose pressed into your shoulder.

“I'm going to start removing the bullet,” Emily said to no one in particular. “If he starts to get aggressive, I want her out of here.”

The pack nodded, tightening their grips around him.

His body had just started to go lax form the morphine when Emily started digging for the bullet. You felt him tense, but he held perfectly still, almost trembling with effort.

The pack looked at one another, clearly surprised.

“He can't sit still for a splinter,” Sam muses, eyeing the two of you with a quirked brow.

“Got it!” Emily said, holding the pliers in the air, a crimson hollow point pinched in the end of them. “Less then two inches from his heart,” she said, dropping the bullet into the sink with a clatter.

Paul huffed against your neck, his body relaxing again.

You stroked his head, trying to soothe him. “You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright. Just a few stitches and you'll be able to heal on your own,” you whispered in his ear, even though you knew the rest of the could hear you.

Emily poured alcohol into the wound, and he bucked, a vicious growl ripping from his throat. Jacob yanked you backwards before Paul's fangs found you, Sam grabbing Emily as Paul roared.

“Outside!” Sam ordered, looking at Jacob. Jacob nodded and hauled you out into the cold, shutting the door behind you both.

“No, I need to be in there!” You shouted, fighting against him.

“Paul told us to take you out of there!” Jacob yelled back, and you stumbled away, stunned. “Right after he got shot, he said to make sure you weren't there. And he screamed ‘get her the fuck out of here' just now.”

“But—” You felt your knees sag. You thought for sure he was asking you to come closer…

“You saw what happened to Emily,” Jacob murmured, and you snapped your head back towards him. “Paul wouldn't survive doing that to you, y/n.”

You stared at him, tears in your eyes.

“He hates hurting you. But in his mind, it's the only way to keep you safe.”

“From what?” You cried, frustrated, heartbroken. Another agonized howl rips through the still November air.

“All of this! Us! Him!” Jacob threw his arms out. “When you discovered us, you trapped yourself. When he imprinted on you, he trapped you further.”

“But I want to be here!” You shouted back, voice echoing off the pines. “I want this.” Tears clogged your throat, the anger draining out of you. “I want him.”

Seth opened the front door, the warm light a halo around him. “He's out cold, but shifted back. He's going to be okay.”

You ran up the stairs and into the house. Paul, human Paul, was stretched across the table, a blanket tossed over his lower half. Emily was bandaging his ribs, a thick pad of gauze just to the left of his sternum.

“He's fine,” Emily said, sensing you hovering in the doorway. “A few days of rest and he'll be as growly as ever.”

“You should go home, y/n,” Sam said. “He doesn't need any stress right now.”

Stress. Was that all you were?

You nodded and grabbed your coat hanging by the door, feeling like you'd been shot yourself. Jacob offered to walk you home, but you declined.

You'd had enough for werewolves for a lifetime.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When Paul woke up, he was alone in his room, the curtains drawn. Memories of that night rushed back to him, the agony, the searing rip of the bullet, your hands in his fur, soft voice in his ear.

“You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright.”

“Paul?” Sam cracked the door open. “You alright?”

“Where is she?” He asked, tugging on a pair of sweatpants.

“Paul—”

He didn't need to ask again, he could feel you through the imprint, his little shadow.

“Lahote, wait—” Sam grabbed him when he went to leave the room.

“What?” He snapped, the need to see you like a beast in his chest.

“She’s leaving.”

Paul's heart stopped. “She..what?”

“She's packing now. Chief said she was free to go if she burned her notes.”

He missed the last part, already running out of the house and into the street. He ran barefoot across town, ignoring everyone shouting from him, both outside and in his head.

Finally, he saw your little house at the edge of the beach, your car in the driveway, trunk open and piled with boxes.

No, no, no, no.

He vaulted over your stairs, barreling through the door.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your front door slammed open, the top hinge breaking with an audible crack. You dropped the books your were packing, looking up to find Paul racing towards you like a heat seeking missile.

“Paul, what—”

“Shut up, y/n,” he growled. His hands came up to your face, grabbing you and tugging you towards him. His mouth collided with yours, rough and desperate. Strong hands hauled you closer, crushing you against his bare chest in a bruising grip.

Your lips parted under his, your hands grasping for purchase along the planes of his chest as you kissed him back. His lips were surprisingly soft, supple and beautifully shaped, though nothing about the kiss gentle. Your lungs screamed for air, your whole body burning, burning, burning alive for him.

He wrenched himself away, holding onto the door frame like a lifeline. His chest heaved, eyes wild and dark. The frame cracked under his hands.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breathless. He still had bandages wrapped around his torso.

With one hand, he ripped them clean off, revealing nothing but a dimple of scar tissue. “If you want to go, I won't stop you. But I couldn't let you leave without…” his voice trailed off, gaze fixed firmly on your puffy, spit-slick lips.

You took a stuttering breath, tears brimming along your lash line. “I want you to want me to stay,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, tracking each tear as they rolled down your flushed cheeks. His expression softened, eyes round, lips slightly parted. “I want you to stay with me, but you're better off—”

You flung yourself towards him, trusting he would catch you, and he did, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I'm not,” you said, raining kisses across his cheeks, over his lips, his eyes, his jaw. “I'm not.”

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote twilight #paul twilight #paul x reader #twilight #twilight werewolves #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #werewolves #twilight fic #twilight imagine #fanfiction #Spotify

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cxffecoupx · 9 months ago

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what 2 am with them looks like

seventeen × gn reader comfort, healing (kinda, idk) warnings: mentions of making love, food wc: 1.3k author's notes: this was a random thought, and has been in my drafts for so long, so i decided i had to complete it. writing this gave me a peace i didn't know existed, so i love this work very much. i hope you guys love it too <3

➼ choi seungcheol

in bed. he's probably fucking you into the next week, making you cum at least 5 times before he kisses you gently and washes you up and prepares to sleep. if not this, then you're probably on your side of the bed. the other side of the bed remains empty, because your cuddly clingy boyfriend is wrapped around you, strong arms trapping your movements and legs tangled together.

➼ yoon jeonghan

dumb conversations. lying in bed, your head resting on his arm, your arm wrapped around his torso that shakes with the laughter. it's probably one of your lame jokes that only he finds funny, or one of his hilarious stories about seungkwan and chan, but it's got you both clutching your stomachs after a while. he pulls you close with his arm that's under your head and presses a light kiss to your forehead before finding another interesting topic. when do you sleep that night, that's a question you both have no answer for.

➼ hong jisoo

deep conversations. you're both sitting in your bedroom, hugging pillows as you slip into deep conversations about the universe and your future. you aren't sure how you got here, you were in your bed to sleep one moment and in the next, you're both sitting as you talk about your wedding and your house and the stars and the moon and his mom and his job; the conversation flows easily into the next topic. he only stops when he sees you suppress a yawn for the 3rd time before kissing you and suggesting you both go to sleep.

➼ moon junhui

watching cat videos. it all started a few hours ago, with you and jun on either side of the bed, scrolling through phones. you roll over to him, perfectly landing your head on his chest as you show him your screen. "look junie," you said as you shoved the phone into his face. he chuckles before holding your hand and focusing on the video of an orange cat tripping over it's own feet. he laughs watching it, and it ends up in you lying on his chest as you both watched every single cat video available on the earth. your laughs filled the room and tears filled your eyes, but it felt so good, spending time doing silly things like this.

➼ kwon soonyoung

passive watching soap operas. its the time of calm and quiet after the rush of the day, so when you turn on the tv after dinner, you stay like that until late hours. except the focus has moved from the drama on the tv to drama from work. from sitting at the ends of the couch, you end up tangled somehow - his head resting on your lap or him sitting on the floor, hands held with yours. the tv drones on at a low volume, but by then you've both shared all the tea from your work and are giggling over the littlest of things. in the morning, you're both probably on the floor, one of the cushions as a pillow and keeping warm by hugging each other.

➼ jeon wonwoo

playing games. after much practice and pain, you'd finally gotten better at the games wonwoo often played. most nights you'd be a team going against your other friends, but sometimes you prefer to play against him. and when that happens, it ends in either of the two ways: you're winning and start shaking your hips, or he's winning and decides to deliberately lose to help you win. either way, he wants to see your happy lil dance.

➼ lee jihoon

in his studio. jihoon's seated in his studio, working on a new track. when you arrive, he immediately pulls you to him, making you sit on his lap as he hands you his headphones. you look at him, confused, but wear them anyway and listen as he plays the track he was just working on. as you fall deeper into the melody of the song, he grips your hips in anticipation. it was a song to you, from him, containing the most heartfelt emotions he'd felt for you, but couldn't communicate properly. so he decided to put them into a song, a language he speaks so well and one that you understand.

➼ lee seokmin

having breakfast cereal. you'd gone through great lengths to find and buy the brand of cereal you both highly enjoyed. so now that you have it, why wait for the morning? when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, anxious and groggy about your reaction, he'd worried you'd judge him. but maybe it's the sleepiness hanging in his mind that he forgot you both basically share the same braincell. so the next minute you're stumbling into the kitchen, looking for bowls and cartons and giggling over spilling milk and noisy spoons. by the time you're done, your stomach's filled with food and heart's filled with love.

➼ kim mingyu

moments of soft intimacy. the evening goes by peacefully: you both come home, tired and exhausted; have a silent dinner mingyu lovingly prepared and talk about work; after some leftover work you both head to bed. but slowly, the stroke on the cheek becomes kissing, drawing shapes on your back as you kiss and nip at the base of his neck. mingyu's vulnerable now, only with you, but neither of you are in a rush to haste. his hands cup over your ass and thighs; your hands are braided in his hair. his palms knead the flesh of your breasts; your fingers gently brush across his chest and abs. whether or not you make love comes later, but you sleep peacefully in each other's embrace.

➼ xu minghao

sky-watching. when you poke him awake, he's definitely concerned, but the first thought that pops to his head when you say you cant sleep is to go sit in the balcony. so now, at 2 am, you're in the balcony, a cup of warm tea in your hands and xu minghao at your side. its silent, but its a comfortable silence that wraps around you like a blanket, and warmed up by the tea he specially made for you. and although for others, the silence might seem awkward, minghao knows that this is exactly what you need to escape from the thoughts racing around in your mind.

➼ boo seungkwan

late night walks. seungkwan's energy peaks after he comes home and sees you, so walks to tire you both out becomes a staple in the routine. youre walking the streets in matching hoodies (that's because you take one of his) and even in the cold, he makes it a habit to hold your hand in his. you wander through new streets every night, discovering new neighbourhoods, having a quick snack from the convenience store, and usually stumble over a park or play area. you can feel seungkwan's eyes light up and the next thing you know, youre on the swings, side-by-side. with the little squeeze of your hand, he lets you know he's ready to go back.

➼ chwe hansol

watching a movie. to hansol, any logical being would be asleep at this hour. (un)fortunately for him, you weren't as logical as he thought. but maybe he enjoys it because why else would he allow you to keep him awake at this ungodly hour, watching 'Tangled' for the twentieth time now? all frowns erase the moment he sees pascal on the screen, and a smile places itself. he becomes so engrossed in the movie he doesn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep about halfway through the movie. when he does notice tho, he silently closes the laptop and places it away, before slipping back into the bed to get his precious sleep.

➼ lee chan

listening to him talk. chan loves to talk, and you love to listen to him talk. while mostly by this time you're both dead asleep, sometimes you end up in the balcony, the wind playfully ruffling his hair as he goes on and on about something he's so so passionate about. it could be the most trivial things, but the way his eyes go wide as he's expressing his emotions and the way they catch the moonlight in them like little stars. you're gonna be pretty tired the next morning, but when chan's with you, you couldn't care less.

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luvseraphh · 4 months ago

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ᯓ★ mha boyfriends

i need a boyfriend like the mha boys so bad

bf ! sero who makes you laugh so hard you can't breathe on the bad days. he'd always be ready with a movie that's so bad it's funny and all your favorite snacks. he'd crack jokes at every awful example of sfx and look over at you with a dorky smile to make sure you laughed.

bf ! denki who makes sure you know you're always welcome in his dorm, even if you don't ask for permission ahead of times. he's always down for spontaneous hangouts and goofing off together past curfew.

bf ! kirishima who loves to sit outside the dressing rooms while you try on new outfits at the shop, the blush on his cheeks growing every time you wear something new. he's just so smitten with you he thinks you could look good in anything, even a paper bag.

bf ! bakugo who tries his best not to let you see how in love with you he is but everyone who knows him knows that he wouldn't be this patient with anyone else. he wouldn't put up with all the chaos if it came from denki, or the lame jokes if sero said them, but it was different coming from you.

bf ! shinso who needs you next to him every time he naps, the warmth of your figure against his just making the sleep even more peaceful and restful than he's ever experienced. he doesn't tell you his dreams are always full of you.

bf ! izuku who has a notebook full of your interests, habits, hobbies, likes, dislikes, anniversaries (even the small ones like the first time you held hands), and anything else you could possibly think of. he never wants to forget even if he knows he never could.

bf ! aizawa who secretly loves when you play with his hair. the feeling of your hands tangled in his black locks is enough to make him feel like he could die happy. he'll never admit it but the proud smile you give him after you finish putting little braids all over his head makes him fall even deeper in love.

bf ! hawks who makes up for all the time he's away on patrols and interviews by coming up with the most romantic and well thought out date ideas. he will have you swooning by the end of the night and if you haven't thought about marriage yet the date is NOT over.

bf ! dabi who tries to act so hard like he doesn't care but he gets teased by the other league members all day every day about you. everyone knows he's in love with you by how gentle he treats you and they're not afraid to make it known.

bf ! shigaraki who you never have to worry about cheating on you (because no other woman would consider dating him) because when he sets his sights on something he is not letting go until he is DEAD!!!!

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d3vilcvntz · 1 year ago

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silly little crush ♡

top male reader x bottom male character

he has a crush on you for months but feels like he have no chance with you because of your difference in personality. you were the outgoing and loud type of person who have lots of friends. he's basically the opposite of you, shy and can barely makes any friends. he admired you since the first time you approached him. you were just asking the directions to the building as you're new in this department, but something about that small interaction drives him crazy and he doesn't know why. he keeps ignoring these feelings as it's just a silly little crush and he'll probably move on from it later.

he was 2 years older than you, making him your senior so you did talk to him quite a lot after that because he have more knowledge than you. asking him how to do this and that, he's not complaining though. it's actually part of his day that he really looks forward to, even though he doesn't want to admit it.

you did tried to invite him to hang out sometimes but each times, he would just declined and said that he's busy. he's not actually, he just hate interacting with people, other than you of course. he would be down to hang out if it's just two of you though, but it will be weird for him to ask so he just wait for you to do it first. he just doesn't want to be seen as desperate

and the wait is worth it because you did ended up inviting him to hang out at your place. innocently asking him to teach you how to organise some files because you didn't know how to, which is not the main reason why you invited him over obviously. you actually knew about his feelings but keep it casual to see if he'll do anything about it. you taken a liking to him too since the day you got the job. he looks so cool doing his works that it made you wonder how he'll looks like in bed, getting ruined by you

you got bored waiting so why not make the first move ? he arrived at your place and both of you started talking about works as he helped you organised the files like you asked. you offered him to drink with you and get to know each other, i mean, you guys are coworkers after all but barely knows anything about one another. both of you were slowly getting drunks while sharing some personal stories

honestly, it's your first time seeing him this talkative. he's usually quiet in the office. he's so cute like this <3 the way he laughed everytime you make a joke, even though it's a lame one "i actually don't have that much friends so I don't really enjoy going to work everyday.. well that's until i met you" he said, taking another sip on his drink. you were shocked at the sudden topic but just smiled at him, waiting for him to continue "you know..it's funny that i actually like you even though we barely know each other" he spoke again

you paused for a moment "is this a confession?" you teased him, looking at him directly "...what?...wait..wait! i didn't mean that way ! i mean.." he basically panicked, stuttering on his words, face flushed "im sorry..im sorry... i must have creep you out.. i just-" before he can even finish his sentence, you gave him a kiss on the lips, a quick one

he was shocked and quickly backed away, there's a lot he wanted to say and ask but he didn't know why he feels like all of it just got stuck in his throat "i like you too" you told him, getting closer to him. that just answered all of his questions. "the feelings are mutuals then?" you asked him, giving a little smile. he feels like he's about to burst

both of you were in your bed now, you pushed him down, making him lay on it "can i?" you asked, fingers fiddling with his buttons which he responded with a simple yes. you unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his body to you. he's so pretty ♡

his hands grabbed on your shirt, basically asking you to take it off too. you slide your hand in his pants, teasing his cock. he moans so sweetly in your ear <3 you want to hear more of it, no, you need to hear more of it. slowly pulling off his pants and underwear, pouring lube all over your fingers and sliding one of it inside him

you're trying your best to take it slow and make it enjoyable for both of you. you added more fingers as time went by, getting him all stretched out and ready for you

you were trying to grab the condom by your bedside before he stopped you, eyes avoiding yours "we don't need that..it's okay if it's you" he whispered softly. shit, don't think you can't even control yourself anymore if he's this cute !

pushing your cock into him, watching how his hole swallowed you up. thrusting into him with a slow pace to get him used to it. his hands gripping the sheets, soft moans filling up the room. you began to pick up the pace and thrust deeper into him, chasing your own orgasm as well as his

you both came soon after, holding onto each other. you laid beside him with your cock still inside him as you whispered nothing but sweets into his ear, calming him down from his high

you slowly pulled out your cock, earning cute whimpers from him "no...it's gonna leak out" he said so sweetly, shoving his fingers inside his hole to keep your cum inside

it takes everything in you to not just do another round but you wanted to be gentle as this is his first time after all <3 you stood up from the bed to prepare the bath for both of you, trying to distract yourself. you have to clean it all up after all, don't want to sleep all sweaty and sticky

sitting in the bathtub together, cuddling with him between your legs as he leaned onto your chest "this is like a dream to me" he suddenly said, looking up at you with a soft smile. ah, this might be the best day in your life <3

a/n: this is so normal compared to my other works lmfao

#sub character #top reader #top male reader #d3vilcvntz's works

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fatkish · 1 year ago

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Hey!!!! Could i please an thank you req headcanons for pro heroes and their kid telling them they like another hero over them??? i just think itd be rlly cute haha

Pro Heroes x Child Reader: Asking Their kid who Their Favorite Hero is

Midnight:

When she asked you who your favorite hero was you happily shouted Present Mic. Although she kinda sweatdropped at the thought of Hizashi, she smiled and still agreed that he’s a good hero.

All Might:

When reporters asked you who your favorite hero was, since All Might is your dad, you happily replied with Endeavor. When asked why, you replied with fire is super cool and he make bad guys pee their pants cause he’s scary. All Might had to hide his frown and cried later that night. Endeavor who has caught the tail end of the interview, laughed at it

Sir Nighteye:

When he asked who your favorite hero was you replied with Gang Orca. This started a long Argument between the both of you on who’s better, All Might or Gang Orca.

Endeavor:

He isn’t really the type to care about this kind of thing but when you replied with Fatgum, he wasn’t expecting that. You told him that he’s your favorite because Fatgum is cute and squishy looking.

Hawks:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was, expecting you to say daddy, he was shocked when you said Edgeshot. He regrets asking since you started to argue with him on why Edgeshot is cooler than him.

Fatgum:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Mirko since she kicks butt. He laughed and happily agreed seeing you excitedly reenact her fights

Present Mic:

When he had you on his radio show he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Nighteye since he’s smart. If he wasn’t on air at the time he would’ve been crying and explaining to you that your dad’s smart too

Aizawa/Eraserhead:

When you told Aizawa that your favorite hero was Present Mic, the only reaction you could see was a slight eye twitch, but you giggled and then told him it was a joke and that he’s your favorite since he doesn’t need his quirk to beat a villain. Plus he’s your dad so that automatically makes him the best. He just smiled and gave you a hug and kissed your forehead

Best Jeanist:

When he asked you who you’re favorite hero was you told him you don’t really have a favorite since you think heroes are kinda lame. You told him you liked Nedzu since he could probably bring humanity to their knees. He became kinda worried about you after that answer.

Mirko:

When you told her your favorite hero was Ryukyu because dragons are cool. She smirked and said that she thinks Ryukyu is cool too and asked if you wanted her to arrange a meeting so you could meet your Idol. You screamed in delight and hugged your mom’s leg begging her to do it.

Gang Orca:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you replied with Black Manta. He sweat dropped and told you that 1.) he’s not real and 2.) he’s a villain. You looked at him with a straight face and said he’s cool like your dad. He’s now a little worried about you

Edgeshot:

When Edgeshot asked you who your favorite Hero was you replied with Itachi Uchiha. He looked you dead in the eye and said that Itachi isn’t real. You then began to explain how Itachi is a better ninja than your dad. Edgeshot listened and was happy that you admired a good person and at least you didn’t favor villains

Kamui Woods:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him Deadpool and Spider-Man. When he told you they aren’t real you told him he didn’t ask for whether they were real or not. You told him you like how they’re funny and that you want to be like Spider-Man.

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kxsagi · 1 month ago

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Hi!! Can I request some headcanons for the Bllk boys (mostly for Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Yukimiya, & Reo, but you can add whoever else hehe) about like their first kiss or first date with reader? (If you haven’t written about it already lol, I’m fairly new to your blog🥹) Like are they giddy about it? Did the date it go well? Were they awkward about kissing reader? Are they dying to see reader again? Yk what I mean???🤭 You can tweak this however you like!

Ty!🤍

"𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠"

a/n: i wrote this and was blushing myself help 😭

also i love the song sure thing and miguel he's such a good artist

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, yukimiya kenyu, mikage reo, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

rin is so serious about this first date it’s almost embarrassing. like he’s literally planning his outfit a week in advance and checking the restaurant reviews like he’s prepping for war.

when you show up looking breathtaking, rin internally glitches. he forgot humans could be that pretty. the most you get out of him at first is a stiff, "you look fine." (it was supposed to be a compliment.)

the date itself is awkward for like, the first 20 minutes because rin is trying SO hard to be normal. you make a dumb joke, and he stares at you like he’s loading. but then, you laugh at yourself and he kinda… softens.

by the middle of the dinner he’s leaned forward, muttering dry, sarcastic comments under his breath, and he looks at you like you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

first kiss? rin walks you home and just STANDS there at your door, rigid. he wants to kiss you, but he’s overthinking it so hard he looks physically pained.

you end up being the one to kiss him, and this boy literally freezes for a second like his brain blue-screened. then he kisses you back so earnestly it’s insane. his hand cradles the back of your head so gently you almost cry.

after you go inside, he literally stands outside your door like an NPC, staring at the ground, replaying the kiss in his mind like a broken record. rin.exe has stopped working.

dying to see you again but would rather perish than text first (he caves after 2 hours).

itoshi sae

first of all, you’re lucky sae even agreed to a “date.” he’s allergic to the word. the second you called it that he gave you a look like you just asked him to help move a dead body.

“it’s not a date. it’s just… hanging out.” (bro was sweating.)

he shows up exactly on time, not a second early, not a second late, dressed way too casually for how hard he clearly thought about it.

you’re a little nervous at first, but sae? sae is the human embodiment of 🧍‍♂️. he’s just standing there. hands in his pockets. blinking at you.

you think maybe he’s bored, but every time you say something even a little funny, you catch him almost smiling before he kills it. he’s not fooling anybody.

throughout dinner he’s casually devastating. when you tell him you were worried about picking a lame restaurant, he just tilts his head and says, “it’s fine. i’m not here for the food anyway.”

he acts so casual, but he notices everything: your favorite dessert, the way you tap your fingers when you’re excited, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

first kiss? sae is horrible at pretending he’s not thinking about it. when he walks you home, there’s this tension in the air. he keeps glancing at you sideways and looking away like you’re an eclipse he’s not supposed to stare at.

at your door, there’s this long pause. you open your mouth to say goodbye and he just… leans in.

it’s abrupt, almost clumsy, but his hand finds your jaw so gently you almost melt.

the kiss itself is surprisingly soft, slow, like he’s tasting the feeling before letting himself have it.

when you pull away, a little dazed, sae just gives you this tiny, smug smirk and says, “finally.” like it was your fault for making him wait.

he doesn't text you that night. he shows up the next morning at your door with coffee like, “you’re free, right?” (he missed you immediately but he'd rather die than admit it.)

kaiser michael

kaiser treats the first date like it’s the olympics. he's showing up with a bouquet so big you can't see his face, wearing designer clothes, and winking at you like he’s already won.

the whole night, he’s borderline unbearable, complimenting you every five seconds, making everything into a flirty joke, acting like the entire restaurant should be jealous he has you.

but every time you laugh for real, he visibly short-circuits and has to glance away for a second like he’s trying to get his heart rate back under control.

first kiss? you’re teasing him at the end of the night, like, “wow, and here i thought the famous michael kaiser would be a better date” and he fake gasps, clutches his heart, and dramatically says he needs a kiss to recover.

you roll your eyes and kiss him just to shut him up and this man literally freezes mid-banter.

his hand finds your waist automatically and when he kisses back it's so much softer than you expect, almost like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

after the date he literally spins around in the street like a disney princess when no one’s looking (zesty ahh).

yukimiya kenyu

yukimiya is SO composed on the surface, like he’s all suave and gentlemanly and giving you that dazzling movie-star smile, but internally he’s PANICKING.

he spent two hours googling “how to impress your crush without looking desperate” before the date.

during dinner, he’s super attentive – asking questions about your day, your hobbies, your favorite color – but the second you compliment him back, he short-circuits like a middle schooler.

first kiss? he’s walking you home, holding your hand, and trying to play it cool, but he keeps sneaking glances at your lips.

finally, right at your doorstep, he blurts, "i really want to kiss you right now," and immediately turns red like he didn't mean to say that out loud.

you kiss him and poor yukimiya is so overwhelmed he literally stumbles back a step. ("sorry, i'm just– you’re really beautiful.")

texts you that night: “i had a really amazing time. would love to see you again. if you’re free. no pressure. sorry. okay goodnight.” (he proofread that text five times.)

mikage reo

reo shows up to the date like he’s starring in a rom-com. we’re talking reservations at the coolest new place in town, wearing the perfect outfit, absolutely beaming when he sees you.

he treats you like royalty the entire night. hand on your lower back, pulling out your chair, feeding you bites off his plate, the works.

he is also very obviously smitten. like, he laughs way too hard at your jokes and says “you’re seriously the cutest person alive” like three times without even realizing it.

first kiss? reo gets nervous toward the end of the night because he wants it to be perfect. he’s actually sweating a little, double checking that his breath doesn’t smell like garlic.

he walks you home, holding your hand and swinging it between you like the golden retriever bf he is, and right as you’re about to say goodbye, he just blurts out, “can i kiss you?”

you say yes, and reo kisses you so sweetly and so enthusiastically you both start laughing halfway through because he’s literally smiling against your lips.

immediately texts you after: “when can i see you again 😭😭😭💜” and plans like five more dates in his head before you even reply.

isagi yoichi

isagi is both excited and absolutely terrified about the first date. this man is doing push-ups in his room beforehand to "get rid of the nerves" (it doesn't help.)

he tries SO hard to seem casual but ends up being adorably dorky. like he almost pulls your chair out too far and you almost fall over (he apologizes for the next ten minutes).

but he’s also SO easy to talk to. by the middle of the date, you’re laughing non-stop and realizing that being with isagi just feels right.

first kiss? he walks you home and he’s so obviously trying to build up the courage to kiss you that it’s painful. like he keeps fidgeting, glancing at your lips, then looking away like he’s committed a crime.

you finally have to gently nudge him, and he stammers out, "can i– is it okay if–" before you just kiss him first.

isagi literally freezes with his hands half-raised, then kisses you back so shyly and sweetly you feel like you’re floating.

after you go inside, he literally punches the air in victory and almost wakes up the whole neighborhood.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #kaiser michael x reader #michael kaiser x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #kenyu yukimiya x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #sure thing

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babyleostuff · 1 year ago

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when they take a joke too far | ot13

❥ seungcheol

as much as i love cheol, i don’t think he’d immediately notice that he took the joke too far, mainly because of the fact that when he’s in the moment, surrounded by other people, you know - trying to be funny (maybe attempting on impressing others with his amazing joking skills), he’d be a bit too focused on the people surrounding him. it doesn’t change the fact that the second he notices you acting a tad bit off, he’s all over you asking you questions - if you are all right, if you want to leave, if you need food or water, his jacket etc etc. when he’d find out you were upset by his joke, oh - he’d be so so disappointed and angry with himself, truly. cheol would apologise, of course, and ask you if you needed space (it would break his heart if you said yes tbh, but he'd understand that). he just wouldn’t want to disappoint and hurt you even more.

❥ jeonghan

jeonghan knows he can be quite petty and sarcastic at times, and his jokes can be taken ambiguously sometimes, especially when people don’t really know him and his humour. then again, he’d never tell a mean joke on purpose, he’s not mean like that, but sometimes his jokes do not come out as he means them to. it could take him some time to notice you being upset over his joke because after all you’re quite used to his sense of humour, so he’d never think that you could get upset over it. in his mind his joke is just a silly comment, he obviously doesn’t mean for it to upset you, god forbid. when he finds out you’re bothered by it though, he’d apologise in any way he could - he’d be extra attentive, clingy, and careful with you, but giving you space at the same time.

❥ joshua

immediately feels so bad when he sees your expression fall after his bad joke. does not wait to apologise later or reflect on what he had just said - your visible sadness is enough for joshua to cradle your face in his hands and apologise, as sincerely as he can. even if you’re with friends or other acquaintances, he doesn’t care if people are staring or murmuring to each other, all he cares about is apologising. even if you’d forgive him, joshua would still be a bit more wary around you, making sure to give you space but at the same time still care for you and take care of you, because despite your words - he knew you were still a bit upset.

❥ jun

wouldn’t be sure whether to pack up his things and move out of your apartment, bury himself under the sheets, or to bawl his eyes out. the worst part is when he doesn’t even realise that he upset you with his joke, because what do you mean that he made you sad and he proceeded to go about his day like nothing happened? HE DIDN’T KNOW, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. it’s never, ever jun’s intention to make you upset (duh), and it makes everything so much worse - he’s the one who’s supposed to make you laugh, not sad. when he realises that he took the joke too far he’s not sure how to approach you, because if he could he’d apologise immediately, but then again - what if you hate him now?

❥ hoshi

this man is the epitome of “saying before thinking”, and while he’d never tell a joke to offend someone on purpose, shit happens and not all of his jokes come off as jokes. he also gets easily distracted so it could take some time for him to notice you being upset, but at the same time he’s such a simp for you, so he’d either realise you were bothered by his comment an hour later or the second the joke left his mouth. would be the type to fall to his knees, hug your waist, bury his face in your stomach, and proceed with an at least hour apology because he feels that bad. his dramatic behaviour (and the even more dramatic apology speech) would make you laugh so hard, you’d forget about the joke in seconds. still, hoshi would be extra caring with you because no excuse could justify his joke that was lame and unfunny in the first place.

❥ wonwoo

to be honest, i don’t see a world where wonwoo would take a joke too far, he’d notice you being uncomfortable before you’d even know you were upset by the joke yourself. BUT, if it (somehow) happened, his apology would come straight away. there is no way he’d be able to proceed with his day without apologising at least fifty times - he’s so in tune with your emotions, it’d be like he could feel you hurting because of the joke himself. wonwoo would feel very ashamed of even thinking, let alone telling such a joke, he’d feel very disappointed in himself, and he’d beat himself up for that for days.

❥ woozi

would apologise immediately - jihoon doesn’t like bullshitting around stuff, there is no way he’d wait with apologising, not only because he doesn’t like getting into conflicts, but because you deserve that apology. it’s never his intention to upset you, and he wouldn’t be able to proceed with his day without saying something. like, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? after incidents like those (not that they happen often), he’s a bit more cautious around you, making sure to not overstep any boundaries, and letting you have some space.

❥ dk

not happening, sorry - there is no way seokmin would take a joke too far to the point of upsetting someone, especially you. no. freaking. way. he’d rather set his body of fire than make an upsetting joke.

❥ mingyu

there’s also a slim chance of mingyu taking a joke too far, he’s too good of a person to upset anyone with his jokes. if it happened, he’d immediately apologise, probably in one of the most dramatic ways ever - throwing himself on his knees, yapping about how sorry he is, and how he didn’t know how such a joke could even come to his mind, while he’s eyes would be screaming “FORGIVE ME PLEASE”. he would be so disappointed and angry at himself for saying the joke, like it would take him days to get over it, even if you said you forgave him. there’s just something about taking a joke too far and making your significant upset because of it that breaks mingyu’s heart.

❥ minghao

he can be very blunt and petty, his humour is not for everyone, but that still doesn’t mean he’d upset anyone on purpose (unless that person is rude, then they get the full on xu minghao treatment). when he notices he took his joke too far regarding you, he’s kind of clueless on what to do next - it’s not like he can ignore the fact that he said what he said, and he feels so ashamed for making you upset, in fact - too ashamed to apologise immediately. all of his confidence and bluntness suddenly leaves him, because how is he supposed to keep his head high when he just made his significant other upset with a joke, he decided to think of and then say.

❥ seungkwan

our savage boo can be a tad too savage at times, and sometimes his remarks can be a bit upsetting. good thing is that he quickly realises when he oversteps the boundary of what is funny and what is not, so it wouldn’t take him much time to understand that you got genuinely upset over his joke. would take your hands in his, and with a lowered head (he’d be too embarrassed and ashamed of upsetting you to look at you), and try to apologise as sincerely as he could. seungkwan would make sure to give you some space, though it would break his heart - but he knew that that was what he had to do for you to forgive him completely.

❥ vernon

vernon isn’t known for coming up with loud and bold jokes, so he immediately catches himself after telling the joke that clearly wasn’t a good one, especially because it was directed towards you. his first instinct is to watch you to see your reaction, he wouldn’t want to say anything right away, afraid that it would make the situation only worse. he’s very cautious when approaching you, he’d understand if you’d need some space, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wait with his apology, because he feels really, really bad. he's also really good at apologising - maybe taking the full accountability for a bad joke is the bare minimum, but then again finding the bare minimum is very hard lately.

❥ chan

chan is usually quite good at controlling what he’s saying, he’s very cautious of the emotions of the people around him, and how his words might affect them. sometimes shit happens though, and not all of his jokes come out as he’d wish them to. chan’s a simp and he’s a loser for you, so he’d catch on to the fact that he took his joke too far quite quickly, and wouldn’t know how to act. he just made you sad, no - he just offended you. his joke, his words made you upset, and that’s a complete failure of his boyfriend duties, because his jokes are supposed to make you laugh, not upset. wouldn’t know how to approach you, would try to apologise through acts of service.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei

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beejunos · 1 year ago

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SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin.

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid.

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh.

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel.

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment.

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath.

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it.

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption.

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat.

Alastor, the infamous radio demon.

He had ... not been what you had expected.

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours.

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks.

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear.

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it.

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice.

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again.

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!"

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on.

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you.

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent.

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex.

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak.

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard.

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear.

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure.

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer.

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?"

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes.

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you.

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched."

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red.

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago.

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?"

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be.

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too.

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating.

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head.

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear."

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat.

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible.

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?"

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before.

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely.

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome."

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer.

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with.

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened?

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you.

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up.

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit.

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet.

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds.

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back.

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do."

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door.

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved.

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny.

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47.

Ugh, this is taking forever!

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came.

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out.

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them.

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience.

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart.

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear."

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling.

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any.

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me."

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire.

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?"

"Yes."

"Yes, and?"

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing.

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?"

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture.

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now.

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants.

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger.

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down.

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions.

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure.

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl.

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh.

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?"

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger.

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you.

"What did I say about not touching me?"

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head.

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it.

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you.

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert.

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from.

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for.

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure.

Closer, closer, and then you fell.

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead.

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love."

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut

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kiryoutann · 7 months ago

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An idea where Simon is a guy who posts tutorials on YouTube in his spare time outside of deployment. It was Johnny’s idea, originally—gossiping about how “th’ internet’s made increasing ‘money easy. All ya need is a wee bit of brains and a half-decent camera,” on a night when the team decided to hit the pub for a pint or two. The Scot continues, “Hell, ye dinnae even need a brain, people just shake their asses on camera and call it a day.”

And at first, Simon wasn’t interested. But somehow, he ended up posting his first tutorial video, uploaded with a half-assed, messy title. No one's going to watch it, anyway.

Until, his old laptop dinged with an email notification—someone had left a comment on his video, “Great video. Precise and thorough. Earned a sub.” Zero became one subscriber, then two, ten, until he had 98. It was a random channel, actually; it didn’t focus on one type of content. He posted whatever he wanted to post—and it ended up being something like fishing, survival tips, DIY engine modification or something like that. And sometimes even cooking.

Simon thought of making a video about disassembling and assembling different types of weapons, but ended up not doing so to avoid comments about the military. So, he uploaded that video of him cooking the easiest thing he could—English Breakfast. And you. You stumbled upon that video.

It’s funny, that this gruff-voiced, tattooed man who keeps his identity anonymous by staying behind the camera has his own way of cooking his sausages, paying attention to the details of his scrambled eggs and flipping his toast to the perfect crispness. He slips in a few tips, a few lame jokes that end up being funny because of the chuckle you hear in the video. You don’t usually leave comments or even like videos on YouTube, but—

“I never thought I’d crave a full English breakfast until now. Love the step-by-step instructions. And just wanted to say, the voice and the accent… *chef’s kiss*”

When you wrote that, you weren’t thinking anything. After all, you weren’t the only one saying that—the comment section was filled with compliments, and four of them also mentioned how his voice made them crave something and it’s not the food.

You weren’t expecting anything until a ding caught your attention from your laptop the next morning. A new email – from Youtube. A reply from Reaper777. Who's that? Oh, oh.

“Glad you liked the video. Maybe I’ll make more videos just for you then.”

… Reaper777, are you flirting? The corners of your lips tug as your smile spreads; your fingers fly to your phone screen and you quickly type a response.

“Can I make some special requests then?” and send. Then, another ding.

Reaper777: Let’s hear it.

And that was the beginning of a long thread of comments under a Youtube video on how to make a full English breakfast.

[author note: i need to get this off my system!! | CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST. WRITING COMMISSION. CHECK OUT MY ONGOING SIMON FIC!]

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x fem reader #x reader #reader insert #cod men x reader #cod x reader #call of duty men x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader fluff

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letsyapthenightaway · 6 months ago

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The Hockey Boys reacting to you being shipped with another player

Matt Rempe- a Hughes out of all the people who you could get shipped with it had to be Luke Hughes. He's ticked about it but doesn't straight up say it but it shows. He gets even more clingy always pulling you in closer, his head on your shoulder. When he sees reasons as to why you two are being shipped he adds himself into the narrative. "Just because you two fit the tall and skinny + Short and Plus size duo? That's literally us too so..'" I feel like you would get posted a lot more on his socials when this ship starts getting talked about.

Luke Hughes- He will get so annoyed! It's a little funny like "They are shipping you with Matt Rempe! Rempe, out of all people!" Rolls his eyes every single time he sees a tweet. If he sees a tweet about how Matt could carry you while Luke probably can't. He is causing HAVOC proving everyone wrong! he can carry his girl and is showing it off. At a game specifically after a win. Straight out of a movie skates over, picks you up, and spins you with the biggest smile. So smug when those ship posts start to go down and are now being replaced by how cute you two are.

Jack Hughes- "FUAKING TREVAH?!" All of this is because you said you liked his tattoo. I don't know Trevor but from how fans describe him I'm gonna say that he will tease Jack but still in a way that's respectful with his girlfriend. "Mr. Steal your girl" "Shut up, Trevor" He wouldn't take it to heart, would be a silly joke between all of you. "I'm taking your girlfriend on a date!" The dude offered to drop you off at your place. If it's an off day he would softly mention it, only a little insecure but it was still on his mind. Some loving and reassurance will help him real quick. Would make a public comment about how Trevor's tattoo is actually lame, but it's a joke.

Quinn Hughes- With his brother, really? Looks at the tweet and laughs Jack and you would never do that to him. Plus he has way better hair than Jack you said so yourself. I don't think Jack would joke about it, he would probably pull away a little. He wouldn't want that ship blowing up more, he respects you and Quinn. This is about Quinn but I don't think he would let this get to him at all, it would get more to you and Jack. Jack will think of something to get you and Quinn more cuddly in public so the people talk about you two. "look at my brother AND HIS GIRLFRIEND! HIS!!" Oh, how did that picture of Quinn's hand on your butt start trending? The world may never know...

Connor Bedard- Honestly? Wouldn't find out on his own. Someone had to tell him, he walks into the room and just does his default stance "When did you ever say you like older men?" Awkward silence because you have no idea what he is talking about. "They are shipping you with Jack Hughes" idk I feel like as he says that he is walking over making you lay down for a sudden cuddle session. Feel like he would hide his face in your neck with his arms wrapped around you. You would feel him laugh and a muffled "as if" looks up at you with that Bedard smile/smirk pulling you in tighter.

I wish I was lying when I say I spent more than 5 minutes laughing at the fucking Trevor. I was in tears and it isn't even that funny.

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cece693 · 5 months ago

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Kiss, Marry, Kill

pairing: jasper hale x male reader tags: human reader, jasper being hurt over small things, Emmett being his joking self, party games, crack fic?

Streamers of gold and cream swirled from the high ceiling of the Cullens’ mansion, and the soft glow of fairy lights made everything look like a magical dreamland—well, at least to your human friends, who couldn’t stop gawking at the place. For you, it was home away from home. After all, you spent so much time here with Jasper that the polished floors and glittering chandeliers had become more familiar than your own dorm room.

Still, tonight felt different. It was your birthday—the last you’d celebrate with a beating heart. Next year, you’d be fully immortal, forever attached to Jasper’s side. But first, you had a party to survive.

You had just finished eating a perfect slice of birthday cake (courtesy of Esme’s unwavering drive to make it tasty for even someone who despised cake) when Jessica's voice boomed across the music:

“Birthday boy! Get over here! We need you!”

Her tone made you freeze. You recognized that brand of enthusiasm. It usually meant trouble or embarrassing party games. With a resigned sigh, you left the comfort of the food table and found Jessica huddled in the living room with Angela, Mike, and a handful of other curious onlookers.

“We’re playing Kiss, Marry, Kill,” Jessica announced, flipping her hair as if she was unveiling some grand plan. “And you’re up first!”

Your stomach sank like a stone in a lake. An array of wide, excited eyes turned your way, including Mike’s—who offered a sheepish wave. You prayed to whatever powers exist that Jasper wasn’t within earshot. “C’mon, Jess,” you said, forcing a laugh. “Don’t you think I’m too old for this?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re twenty-one, not eighty-one! Besides, Emmett is all fired up just hearing about it.”

You heard a low chuckle from across the room. Emmett, leaning casually by the DVD shelf, flexed his biceps with a wink. Rosalie smacked his arm in mock annoyance. Great—there went your hopes of keeping this discreet.

“Alright, fine,” you relented, your cheeks heating. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jessica cleared her throat dramatically and raised a tiny notebook where she’d jotted down names. “So, Kiss, Marry, Kill…” She paused, letting the suspense build. “Mike, Emmett, and Tyler!”

You snorted. Of course she’d drag Emmett in. And Tyler? The guy who you briefly had a fling with before getting with Jasper? Oh boy, now you desperately hoped Jasper wasn't even in the house.

“Okay,” you began slowly. “Let me, uh…weigh my options…”

Immediately you thought of killing Tyler. No way would you announce you'll hypothetically kiss or marry him, it was tough enough to break your friends-with-benefits relationship. You didn't want to give him false hope when that ship has sailed. Mike was potentially clingy, might send you heart-shaped candies on Valentine’s Day with bad puns, but he was overall harmless. And Emmett, there would never be a boring day in your life, it was Rosalie you were worried about. She'll definitely kill you if you even dared to steal him away.

As these thoughts zipped through your mind, you realized the circle of friends was waiting with bated breath. “Alright,” you said, “if I have to choose, I'll kiss Mike…”you said, pointing lamely in his direction.

You heard him choke on a soft, “Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you glanced at Emmett, who was now wagging his eyebrows. "I'll marry Emmett. He’s entertaining, funny, strong, and got a great sense of humor..." you rattled off, trying not to laugh as Emmett bounced in his spot like a child. “You hear that, Rosie? I’m marriage material!” Rosalie simply rolled her eyes.

"And I'll kill Tyler. No offense man, but you did almost take out Bella with that van years ago, so maybe it's karmic justice. Rest in peace.”

While your friends erupted into laughter, especially at the idea of your 'marriage' with Emmett, you maneuvered your way through the crowd, itching to find Jasper. While it was merely a game, you knew it would rub your cowboy the wrong way to hear you'll marry his brother. Looking everywhere for him—his room, the kitchen, the living room, hell, even the bathroom—you had just returned to the kitchen where Edward suddenly flashed in front of you.

“Jeez, Edward!” you exclaimed, pressing a hand to your chest. “I'm still human, remember?"

He just shrugged with a knowing smile. “He’s in Carlisle’s study. I’d go talk to him if I were you.”

His expression told you everything you needed to know—Jasper was not in a good mood. With a nod, you headed toward the study, ducking under a few gold streamers.

You found Jasper sitting at Carlisle’s desk, arms folded, staring intently at the wall. His blond hair fell into his face, casting shadows across his darkening eyes. The moment you stepped in, he flicked his eyes up, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to see you or avoid you.

“Jazz?” you said softly, closing the door behind you. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

His expression darkened as he let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I heard everything. You’re apparently planning to marry Emmett now.” Though the jealousy stung your heart, his wording was so ridiculous you almost snorted. But one look at his face told you laughter would not help.

“It was a joke, Jazz. You know that.”

His Southern drawl grew sharper. “A joke, sure, but it sounded pretty convincing. You did have reasons lined up for why Emmett would be such a great husband.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious right now?”

He held your gaze, frustration and hurt swirling in those golden irises. “If you wanna go marry him, go ahead,” he said bitterly. “It’s your birthday; maybe that’ll be my gift to you—freedom from me.” You took a breath, forcing yourself not to snap back. He was centuries old, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally having the emotional meltdown of a teenager.

“Jasper, you know I love you,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “The only reason I said I’d marry Emmett is because Tyler and Mike are the other two options. And I definitely wasn’t going to marry them.”

He ran a hand through his honey-blond hair, exasperation evident. “Still. Hearing you talk about Emmett like that…it wasn’t pleasant.”

“I’m sorry, but in the game, someone had to be Marry. And I—”

A loud creak announced a third party: Emmett barged in, wearing the dopiest grin. “Hey, fiancé!” he crowed, waggling his eyebrows.

Jasper’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Emmett, I’m really not in the mood.”

Emmett tossed his hands up. “Okay, big guy, cool it. I just wanted to see if the wedding was still on or if I should start ripping up the invitations.”

You blushed furiously. “Emmett, get out!”

He laughed but obeyed, tossing a mock salute as he backed out, calling down the hallway, “Hey, Rosalie, we’re canceled… I mean, no, I’m not actually…It was a joke—don’t give me that look!”

When Emmett finally left, the door clicked shut, leaving you and Jasper alone again. You watched him quietly for a moment, noticing how his shoulders slumped with residual tension. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, stepping closer. “You mean everything to me—this game was Jessica’s silly idea, and I just got roped in. I swear, I never would’ve said it if I knew it’d hurt you.”

His jaw worked, and you could see he was trying to contain the waves of jealousy. You placed a tentative hand on his arm.

“I chose Emmett mostly for comedic effect, okay? Mike is…Mike, and I have history with Tyler. If I’d said I’d marry him, I’d be sleeping with one eye open. Emmett was the lesser evil.”

A flicker of amusement ghosted across his face—very brief. “So, you really don’t wish you had a ring from Emmett?”

You nearly laughed. “God, no. I’m sure Rosalie would kill me if I tried. And I only want your ring, anyway.”

He exhaled, some of the tension leaving his posture. Carefully, you slid your arms around his waist, feeling his cool body against yours. “You’re the one I want,” you insisted. “Always. Soon, we’ll be bonded forever—vampire to vampire. That’s bigger than a wedding.”

His eyes softened, and you could tell he was tuning into your sincerity—possibly even reading the waves of guilt and affection roiling off you. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. “I just…don’t like the idea of sharing you.”

The door swung open again, this time revealing Alice, Bella, and Edward peeking inside—like a cluster of meddling siblings. “Are we good here?” Alice asked, twirling a piece of confetti between her fingers. “Because the party’s over, and I’m thinking of scheduling a no-more-dumb-games vow for the next birthday.”

Bella attempted a sympathetic smile. “We tried telling Jessica that it might not be the best idea.”

“Also, Emmett’s writing up a wedding registry,” Edward piped in, wry amusement in his tone. “You might want to stop him before he goes too far.”

Jasper let out a disgruntled sigh, rising from his seat. “I’ll put a stop to that.” You followed him out, hand in hand. The tension of the evening lingered in the air, but the weight was lifting, replaced by relief and some lingering embarrassment.

Back in the foyer, Emmett was dramatically dictating a registry list to Rosalie, who stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Definitely want a waffle iron, and maybe a lifetime supply of hair gel for the big day—”

Jasper cleared his throat, and Emmett turned to see the two of you standing there. “Aww, the happy couple!” he teased, pressing his hands together.

“Emmett, enough,” Jasper hissed, though you could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and swatted Emmett with a leftover balloon. “You’re impossible.”

You let out a chuckle and caught Jasper’s eye. The corners of his lips lifted in a soft smile—an olive branch of sorts.

Alice, never one to miss a cue, fluttered over. “Now that the crisis is averted, how about we officially call it a night? There’s more cake on the table if you want it, but I doubt you do,” she teased, knowing full well none of the Cullens would partake.

“I might,” you joked. “Still human, remember?”

Jasper slid an arm around your waist, leaning down to press a cool kiss to your temple. “You might be human now,” he whispered, “but soon enough, we’ll have our forever.”

You smiled, heart full and light. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

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