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writefightandflightclub · 9 months ago

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Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Five (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, some smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors / ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: This is SO VERY ANGST. More angst than any other chapter so far. STRAP IN GIRLIES (GN). I'd love it if you feel like sharing what you think - your feedback means the world to me. ILY :-* Reblogs, comments, and asks are literal power-ups in my day and I appreciate every single one!

Word count: 8.3k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

You’re spiralling.

You’re pissed off and you’re hurt and you’re somehow still horny as hell (somehow, perhaps even more horny since Santiago helped you out in that very particular way of his). You feel all in a tizz, like you don’t know which way is up; but even so, you’re pretty sure you’ve simply been going around in circles, and it’s dizzying. Santiago makes it easy to do that when you follow his lead, after all – all the more reason that you’d had to get out finally, all those months ago.

Safe to say, you’re a little bit worked up. Too many thoughts are racing through your head. Resentment that he could get you all riled up like that, have you come undone, and then straight up deny you. Like it was some power play all along and that all he wanted was the satisfaction. On the other hand, a dreadful longing spikes at the thought that maybe he really did just want to protect himself, because he wouldn’t know how to find his way out this time if he got lost in you all over again.

The main thing you’re feeling though – a bitter shard of pain stabbing through any sense of pleasure you may be left with - is a singular fear.

What if he really doesn’t want you anymore?

He wants you, yes, on some level. His admissions in the kitchen about wanting to kiss you confirmed that much. But his desire for you had always felt like an unstoppable force. Like something he couldn’t help or hope to control. Like a raging fire. He had told you that he loved you, wanted you, needed you, all those months ago. And while you are sure that remains true at least in part, you are terrified that all you leaving had achieved was to teach him how to live without you. And, contrary to that, his touch had simply confirmed how hopelessly consumed by him you still are, all your progress - moving on and rebuilding and forgetting - unravelled in mere moments by his fingers.

You resent that too. His power over you, when you always prided yourself on being strong – needing no-one. You have never liked to feel like the one who is compromised, in any situation. You always prefer to be the hunter as, that way, you’re not the one who gets hurt. But Santiago? Santiago is lethal, and he has always known your weak spots.

Maybe that’s why you had stormed angrily to your room, subduing your heavy footsteps reluctantly, only for the sake of your dear buddies sleeping soundly in their beds. Maybe that’s why you had hastily cleaned up, throwing on some fresh clothes from your case – a low cut top and some obscenely tight jeans. A splash of perfume. Some lipstick. All in the hopes of heading out to the local bar and searching for the kind of late-night attention which feels in your control. Seeking a desire which feels manageable. Trivial almost, instead of the kind which burns.

Part of you – a small part of you, at least - recognises you’re being ridiculous, irrational, reactive, even as you zip on your boots. But there is another part of you that simply can’t stay here in this house with him a moment longer, feeling like he doesn’t want you the way you want him.

You feel like, while you’ve been breaking apart for all these months, he was healing. It’s cruel maybe, that you would wish for his desire to burn him as much as it has a hold over you – but perhaps you’re not perfect. Perhaps you’re only human.

Whatever. It doesn’t all need to make sense right now. Your head’s all over the place. You’re not really thinking straight at all. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream or get your brains fucked out (or maybe all of the above - not in that order). And so, you’re definitely not thinking when you throw open the door to the bathroom, recalling that you’d left your necklace on the counter. If you were -thinking- perhaps you would have heard the rushing of the water. Perhaps you would have heard the muffled, bitten back groans emanating from the shower cubicle.

Fuck.

If you weren’t thinking straight before, every thought falls right out of your head altogether when you swing open that door. Namely, when you see Santiago, his body slanted into the wall as he palms his thick, straining length in something of a frenzy.

You should retreat, probably. In fact, yeah. That's exactly what you should do. But, the sight of him there arrests you, and you can’t help but devour every detail of him. Your eyes skim over him only fleetingly, and yet your memory of his body fills in the gaps, meaning you’re able to see far more of him than you could otherwise in the split second your eyes rove over him.

He is stripped down, his body curled into the tiled wall, his forehead and one shoulder bracing himself as the stream of water thunders down on the back of his neck and his broad, lightly muscled shoulders.

His thighs are slightly spread and his full glutes are clenching as he fucks his hard, veined cock into the circle of his left hand, squeezing tight and showing no mercy, his pace relentless.

From the way his nipples are pebbled and the way you observe the tightness of the muscles coiling in his back, you can guess that the water is cold. Perhaps, that he had attempted to cool off after what had happened downstairs, seemingly to no avail. His need is heavy and urgent and burdening his hand, the veins popping in his slick forearm as water sluices over every contour of him and still, his want is evidently raging.

The most important detail of all, however, is that his eyes are closed, droplets of water beading in his long lashes, and a wracked moan sounding from around his own fingers as he shoves them over his tongue.

Fuck.

He’s licking them clean. He’s tasting you. Tasting your juices from his fingers and pumping himself raw from the thought of it.

Holy shit.

He wants you.

You see it now, clear as day. He wants you to the point of desperation. Helplessness. To the point of coming undone with his need for you. His want rages even beneath the stream of a cold shower, taken in hopes of subduing himself. He works himself urgently in his fist, in hopes of finding his release. You find him here, like this.

Unfinished.

You can see it much more clearly now. You see how he wants you. You see what you do to him. What you still do to him.

You see now that saying no to you likely took every scrap of control he had, and now that is gone, there is nothing left for him but you.

As you enter, Santiago hears the door creak open – you weren’t exactly sneaking- and he immediately tilts his body to the wall. It’s automatic - showing his ass rather than his dick in his hand, likely in case one of the boys had just walked in on him. But, when he sees it’s you stood there, all slack-jawed and honey-eyed, he foregoes the need to hide. He turns towards you instead, his length twitching as it grows even more rigid and more ruddy at the sight of you. Santiago’s eyes hooded and desolate with want as he looks you up and down in your ridiculous, come-fuck-me clothes.

Santiago knows fine well that you only wear red when you want to be shown a good time. You feel like a flare, on display, and maybe you’d feel stupid -like scrubbing this red paint from your mouth – if his need was not blatantly on display too. If his predicament did not seem even more dire than yours.

Finally, though, as you look and he lets you, you register the intrusion, and with a series of stunted vowel noises which barely make it past your teeth, you are dragging your eyes away from his. Your legs like jelly and skin flushed beneath your tight clothes, you are clasping the door handle and turning on your heel. Your only objective is to make it out of there, even if you turn to vapour in the hallway after the fact.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Santiago asks gruffly, and you are not sure what he means. Not sure whether he means to ask where you’re headed out to so late, or to inquire why in the hell you’re leaving the room now that you’re here, but God, you’re not sure anymore that you could answer either question in any way that would make the slightest bit of sense.

You’re just not thinking straight. Can you be blamed? Look at him. Look at this, all for you.

So, you freeze, breath held in your lungs as you grip the handle – your back to him, and about to swing the door open to hasten your exit. Instead, though, against every shred of good sense you have, you push the door closed, ever so gently, with you still on the inside. You turn, preposterously slowly back towards him, and when the sight of him stood there, wet and dripping, face all stern and languidly palming himself in the circle of his hand hits you, you flatten your back to the panelled door. Truth is, your legs feel so weak that you could barely stand without it.

And, as if that wasn’t quite answer enough, Santiago continues to look at you insistently.

Well? The quirk of his thick brow seems to enquire. Where the fuck are you going?

Your voice comes out all breath. “Nowhere.”

You’re going fucking nowhere, apparently. Only ever around and around in circles with Santiago “Pope” Garcia – but suddenly, you could care less.

Your eyes lock then, and it takes less than moments for him to be on you, his wet hands fisting everywhere - in your hair and your clothes - and dragging your mouth onto his in a sudden, consuming crush. Your hands snake into his hair, squeezing cool shocks down your forearms as you wring rivulets of water from his grizzled curls, grabbing handfuls of the length at his crown to pull him deeper into you, his tongue hot and supple and buried in your mouth. Your top sticks to you, wet and sodden in all the places he has grabbed up handfuls of your flesh, or pressed his hot body flush against you.

He drives you back, into the door and the awkward mess of towels hanging there on hooks.

“Fuck,” he bites off into your mouth, and you surge forward with this barrelling want, walking him backward and slamming him against the cool tiles with a thwap and enough force that he grunts. Still, it barely slows him down at all, his hands all over you and his kisses still devouring, ripping the air from your mouth.

There is no romance in this, you think. Only need, raw and animal, and you are surprised that you show enough restraint not to tear each other down to the floor and go at it right on the tiles. Still, you barely show any more restraint than that.

“Shit. Fuck. Turn around. Turn around,” Santiago rasps, entirely wrecked already, barely able to get the words past his mouth. His cock looks almost painfully hard, and entirely insistent against your ass as he spins you and roughly bends you over the counter, pots of toothbrushes knocked into the sink and soap rolling who knows who cares where.

“You want this?” he asks as he presses you into position, little precision or ceremony in it – just a rough, raw urgency, entirely untamed.

You can see yourself reflected in the mirror above the sink, blurry and steamy and bent over, and that’s exactly how it feels. Everything; blurry and steamy and close and tight. He’s as hard as the cool marble surface digging painfully into your hips, and you’re as hot as steam and as wet and slick as this mirror and you’re melding into one another – not single bodies anymore but shapes and a mood and a feeling, and there is nothing else.

“Princesa?” Santiago pleads, even as he tugs your jeans down over your ass, removing the bare minimum of clothing to give him access where he needs, the garment still tight and unforgiving around your thighs, not allowing you to move - barely at all. “You need me?”

“Yes. Fuck me. Need you,” you beg, and you hear him spit unceremoniously into his hand -not that he’d need it- and slather it all over his length, groaning as he makes contact with his sensitive, needy dick as though he might spill over his knuckles with the anticipation of stuffing you full alone.

Still, he holds on -by a thread – and your eyes roll back into your head as you finally feel the blunt tip of him notch clumsily at your need-swollen entrance.

Then – ohhhhhh- then, there is the dull ache shortly after as the girth of him pushes through your wanting folds. You grunt at the initial stretch as he works himself inside of you, but pinned between the counter and his surging hips there is nowhere for you to go, and his need sinks into you inch by inch until he fills you all the way.

You succumb to your ragged breaths and mewl for him, you arms practically giving way beneath you as you press them into the cool surface to keep you standing. He fills you, and God, you’ve missed this. Have missed how full you feel with him inside of you - in every sense of the word. The way his hands grip your hips in that specific spot he likes.

You have missed his girth. Could swear you can feel every inch of him pressing outward against the tight grip of your heat as he fucks his cock into your hole, bottoming out with a delicious, wracked, stuttering moan, the sound alone causing pleasure to bloom around the drag of him deep inside you.

Still, despite this fullness - you also feel the give of your walls to him, your slick and eager heat actively suckering him in. He stutters his hips as you clamp tightly around him and then, so help you, he finally begins to move.

Jesus, this feels even better than his fingers, even better than you remember, and you relish every moment as he fucks into you, bareback and desperate, your pleasure coiling up impossibly quick as the straining mass of him works you open, hitting all of your sweet spots. Your legs tremble beneath you with adrenaline and want, and you feel Santiago’s thighs flush against the back of your legs, his hips snapping against the cushion of your ass as the counter edge bites painfully into your hinged hips.

He's not taking his time with you. Not teasing or planning or thinking. You can tell by the undone grunts and groans he’s submitting to you already, that -for once- he is far too consumed by his own need to contemplate yours. Can tell by the sloppy pace of his thrusts and the lack of attention to your clit or your breasts or anything else but filling you - his hands fisting in the meat of your hips as he takes what he needs, gives what you crave – that he’s not even trying to make you come… but goddamn it if he isn’t going to get you there all the same.

Soon too.

God, the head of him is rubbing exactly where you need, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this good with a dick inside you. Your cunt is primed for him, still sensitive from where his fingers fucked you open and it isn’t going to take you long at all to reach your peak.

Even without seeing him properly, in the misted-up mirror, you can tell that Santiago is going feral behind you. Filling you deeply and haphazardly, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin.

You hear a snarl, and see a pearly flash of teeth as his lip curls up from how good you’re making him feel.

“Fuucckk,” he groans, his head tipped back now, that pretty chin pointing up to the sky and his mouth dropping open – you can vaguely see in the mirror

His broad hand smooths firmly down the middle of your back and over your ass - grabbing handfuls of you- before he retraces his path, sliding his hand up between your shoulder blades and winding his hand in your hair, grabbing and pulling until your spine is curled back for him like a bow, your ass arced up and allowing him a deeper angle of penetration which sends tingles all the way to the tips of your toes when he hits just right.

You practically yowl for him, your whole body trembling and shaking, sweat trickling down the centre of your cleavage as the layers you did not have time to dispense of overheat your skin. As your clit is nudged into the lip of the counter in a way that shouldn’t work for you, probably, but totally does, the intermittent slap of Santiago’s hips against you providing a pleasing rhythm.

It’s uncomfortable, and hot, and cramped, and in some ways painful to be rammed up against the surface like this, but you wouldn’t tell him to stop for the world. You wouldn’t tell him to stop because the way he’s taking you feels divine, Santiago burying his want for you as deep as it will go, releasing his punctuated, abortive gusts of breath in time with his thrusts.

You feel drips land on the small of your back, and whether its water cascading from his dampened curls or beads of sweat from the exertion rolling down his temples you do not know or care.

You only know that you want more.

Determined as ever, you plant your hands firmly on the counter as he fucks you near boneless, driving through your hips until you meet his thrusts, working him up higher, finding the angle which hits just right and-

“Unnnngggg.” A whimper falls from his pretty mouth and his thrusts are suddenly far more shallow, slow, nudging against your nervy, sensitive entrance. His breaths are coming in deeper, heavy gusts now and you might be afraid that he was about to stop - if you weren’t so sure that he was, in fact, gearing up.

“Santiago,” you complain as he blunts the sharp edge of your precipice with the break in rhythm. You urge him to give you more, and he uncurls his fingers from your hair and adjusts position.

Obligingly, he wraps his stronger arm around your chest to guide you closer to standing, pressing his chest to your back, his head hooking over your shoulder. And, with his other arm, he reaches forward towards the steamed mirror, using his palm to clear a window from the condensation.

“I wanna see you,” he rasps, a hoarse, gritty whisper in the shell of your ear. “Wanna watch you.”

God, it’s too much. The way his arm is wrapped around your front, strong and yet tender as his forearm braces across your chest and his fingers dance tenderly over your jaw. The wracked, undone voice of him, whisper soft. The contrast between this and the certainty of his thrusts as he finds a new rhythm. As you find a new rhythm together, entirely in sync.

Slowly, so slowly, he draws out of you, ensuring you can feel every single inch of him, the tantalising drag of him through your folds making your quiver. Then, he snaps back into you all at once, so suddenly shoving himself up into you, balls slapping against your ass, each repetition of this pattern building you up. God, you want him to spill himself inside you, and you think vaguely that it is the only thing which could quench you.

It is your undoing when his eyes find yours in the mirror, and this all becomes real. No longer fantasy like your unreliable recollections of him all these months. No longer shapeless, tangled, blurry bodies, but now so very suddenly, you are looking at you and him, with all that means.

The look in his eyes gives form to this act, as though the love settled in them is the very thing giving form to the way he fills you. He is at once stern - his brow burdened, heavy-lidded with need, his eyes sunk into a pit of desire - yet soft. His strong nose is crushed up against you as his lips caress your neck. His eyes dance over your face, taking you in as you languish up against him.

His eyes are molten when they find you again, dancing with a soft, subtle heat not unlike firelight, long lashes fluttering in disbelief at the sight of you. At the feel of you wrapped around him. No longer just a body or some carnal need, shapeless and intangible.

Instead, Santiago and you, and your bodies moving as one.

His soft lips and rasp of stubble break from the column of your neck as his thrusts become sloppy, and you feel his hot breaths come thick and fast against your skin now.

He missed you.

He missed you, and this is what he’d meant. Had meant he needed to feel you wrapped around his dick. Moaning his name. Needed to see you being his. Missed you being his. God, you missed that too, in so many ways.

A moan rips through you as you approach your peak, and you plead profusely with him.

“Don’t stop. Santi. Please.”

You don’t ever want him to stop.

As you clamp down on him, your fluttering core wrings his own orgasm from him too, and then he’s pulsing his load into you, thick and warm and abundant, his thighs quaking against yours and his arms gripping on to you more tightly – this time for purchase – as though this might be the time his knees finally buckle if he doesn’t hold on to you.

You can feel his racing heartbeat hammer from his chest to yours as he holds you flush to him. Can feel his mouth suck at the column of your neck, his tongue sliding along your pulse point and tasting your perfume.

You come down from your high, thrumming with it. Wet and messy between your legs as Santi drags his softening dick out of you, letting your juices and his seed slip down your inner thighs.

You feel good. Blissed out. But, as ever, with you and Santiago, there’s always a catch. The joy is immense, but, guaranteed that one of you - if not both - will find a way to ensure it is short-lived.

Indeed. All too soon, you begin to feel that creeping sense of regret hollow-out your stomach.

You can see it on his face too. The uncertainty. The lack of understanding of what this all means. About what to do next. It is evident from the way he so quickly moves away from you, picking up his shorts and t-shirt and covering up his body. Similarly, you hike up your jeans without even cleaning up, and as much as you might have hoped for a joyful, intimate moment, you know that it’s already too late for that. The moment that the insecurity, doubt and uncertainty had crept in on each of your faces it had become self-reinforcing. A spiral. Running in circles.

“Shit,” you sound out, in a clear peal of regret, planting a hand over your face in distress - despite everything.

“Sounds about right,” Santiago agrees in a monotone, brows drawn down and his gaze fixing on a spot of tile, unable to look you in the eye, despite having been buried inside you only moments ago.

“No,” you stress, bringing a second hand to your face. There’s something else. Something that makes you feel stupid and sick. “I…. I mean, shit. I changed my birth control up and I… I mean we…” Santiago snaps his eyes back up to you now, alright. You curse when you note the writhing of his taut jaw, set and a little annoyed. Your softly puffed expletive which follows is contrite, but it doesn’t help.

It’s not like you -or him- to make a mistake like that. And yet, you had all the same.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

You bristle at his harsh, accusatory tone. How quickly things sour. “It’s not like you checked!” It is his turn to bristle now, and so you opt to be harsher still. “Besides, I didn’t exactly think you were going to be quite so quick on the trigger, Santi.”

He narrows his eyes at you, his riposte about his stamina not even required. He got you off, didn’t he? So, your attempted distraction is futile, as he manages to stay alarmingly on topic. You fold your arms across your chest as he steps towards you, feeling on the back-foot as his flattened palm nags through the air to punctuate his words. “It didn’t occur to you to mention that before we fucked?”

“I forgot. I switched up my method and I’m not technically covered yet. It’s marginal, you know. Most likely fine. I mean, what’s another 24 hours? Besides, I didn’t exactly plan on this, did I?”

He scoffs, then he purses his mouth until much of the colour drains from his lips. “Oh yeah. Sure you didn’t.”

You raise your eyebrows, and jut a hip out to the side for good measure. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Santiago shakes his head softly. Plants his hands on his wide hips, making himself larger. You don’t shrink back from him, but you note it. “For real?” He flashes his line of teeth now, a lopsided, disbelieving lilt of his lips – no happiness in it. Not at all. “I know you love to pretend like I’m the bad guy, right? That serves your narrative or whatever? Bullshit, honey. You knew exactly what you were doing tonight.” You snort out a huff of air through your nose, your look all steel as you prepare to deny his claims. You falter though, with his next words. “I can’t get off without you, Santiago?” he mimics, and your comeback dies on your lips. “You wanna put this all on me now? Believe me, I gave it everything I had to stay out of-“

“-My vagina? Yeah, great job, Pope.” You throw your hands up in the air and they slump right back down again. “You’ve had everything up in there except your damn tongue.”

“Let’s go then, sweetie,” he challenges, nodding to the rear of you, his voice taut rather than inviting. “Hop up on the counter and spread your legs, I’ll make it 3 for 3.”

It’s unfamiliar to you, this tone of his. It makes your heartbeat rage. You swear you can even feel the pulse of it in your tongue. “Fuck. Whatever. I’m not having this conversation with you.” Your adrenaline spikes at the prospect of another argument and you turn on your heel, looking for an exit.

However, before you can retreat, Santiago’s broad palm contacts your arm to stop you – open hand, no force applied – and you turn your head over your shoulder. “At least tell me you’re going to take care of this,” he bites off, with a clear attempt to restrain his aggravation, expression sullen.

“Of course I am.”

“How?”

You think. “I’ll go to the pharmacy in the morning. I’ll deal with it.” You pump your brows emphatically. “Okay?”

You shrug his hand off of you then with apparent disdain for his touch, and in spite of his (relative) tolerance of your acerbic tone, that is apparently the move which fractures his composure. “You know what actually blows my mind? The way you can be nice to me just long enough to get yours. Pretty fucking convenient.”

You feel your face twist with the weight of a sour expression, mirroring his. “Why are you always like this?” You don’t wait to hear his answer, the adrenalin propelling you away, down the hall and closer to your room, but his footfalls follow closely behind you, hot on your heels. Your voice is a whispered hiss, as, somewhere in the back of your mind, you are vaguely aware of the need to keep it down – the other boys are lights out by now. “Why can you never just fuck me and be happy about it, huh?” You spin to face him, chest to chest and facing off.

“I knew this was a fucking mistake.”

Your pulse is in your throat. “Right. Maybe it was. That’s all I ever was to you, I guess.”

Your voices raise, slowly creeping up in volume as you each get lost in this intimate bubble of angst. Of resentment. On some level, you know you could stop now - before it gets worse and you say things you will only regret (or worse, hear things you’ll wish you hadn’t). You know that you should stop, but it feels… oddly necessary.

Like it’s inevitable. Like you’ve been waiting all this time to fuck and fight because it’s all you know how to do with him anymore. At least, it’s all you know how to do when loving him heart and soul seems off the table.

The space your bodies create is tight, leaning into each other’s circle of personal space.

Santiago’s fingers bridge like a claw and he taps them against his own chest, his eyes needling you like he could sew this up once and for all. Tie off all those loose threads of blame which sit frayed between you. He’s angry. Angry and riled and pissed and even so, there is still this eerie sense of calm about him.

You’ve seen him really let loose. You’ve seen him kill, for Christ’s sake, and yet he’s still measured and restrained in the face of you. That should make it easier to bear the brunt of his sharp edges, but that’s not quite so. There’s something about the precision of his anger when it’s focussed on you. The fact it feels so considered, so targeted only makes it cut deeper. “You know what? I’m tired as shit of always being the fucking bad guy here. You wanna get into it, huh?” His voice breaks now, splitting like shrapnel, lodging in your chest. “I told you I love you and you fucking left me.”

“That’s fucking bullshit!”

He’s not happy that you said that. He rocks from foot to foot like he’s priming for something. Scoops a hand over his jaw, around his taut mouth. You’re close enough to hear it rasp, the fleck of his stubble bristling against his palm. “Oh, it’s bullshit?”

Your voice comes out hot now, your words bitten off between your teeth, flecks of spit cast from your mouth. “Yes! Because if I hadn’t left you never would have told me! You told me because I left you! You told me to fucking punish me. To try and drag me back in.”

“Wow. Jesus fucking...” He laughs, but it is a cold, brief sound. “That’s fucking rich, cariño.” His eyes glint like knife licks, and he plants his hand indignantly against his chest, jutting up his chin. Puffing up his chest and making his body all angles. Protecting himself. “That’s really what you think of me, huh?” You try to look away from him, but his eyes chase you for an answer.

Is it? Is that what you genuinely think of your best friend? Is that what you think he’s done to you? Tried to do?

If so, no wonder you’re so fucking angry. No wonder your body is trembling with it.

But the truth is, when pushed on it, you have no intelligible retort you can form. No evidence you can offer. So, instead, in your panic over losing ground, you opt to minimise. You throw your hand up dismissively and you turn on your heel, stomping towards your door at the end of the hall. “Fuck this.”

This time, his footsteps do not follow, even if you can still feel his eyes boring into your back. You think that might even be the end of things, until…

“No,” he sounds. A forceful, robust note which fills the whole hallway. A command to wait. This isn’t over.

With you and him, it’s never going to be over, is it?

You turn towards him and he is fixed in position, stance set wide and chin dipped down, eyes blackened half moons as he looks at you. “Just let me get this straight. If I’m the one who drags you back in? What the shit do you call what you just did?”

You scoff. “You were a very willing participant, Pope. Or, I dunno. Why don’t you just consider it payback for all the times you fucked me around?”

He’s biting words back as he listens to you now. You can see them, in the tilt of his head and the flare of his nostrils. In the flip and curl of his tongue settled around his upper lip, dragging back and forth just below his filtrum. “Revenge, then? Really? Is that what this weekend has been about for you? You really that vindictive?”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous.” You dismiss him again, as though not one of his complaints about you can possibly be valid. Or, rather, revealing you are currently unwilling to admit it even if they are. After all, you’re as stubborn as he is. Each of you trying so desperately to palm off the blame for how fucked up this became.

Santiago paces towards you then, footfalls rhythmic and steady as he swallows the space between you in the hall. “Jesus. You don’t even give a shit, do you? Think I deserve to have my heart crushed into fucking dust?”

Hot, angry tears spike at the corner of your eyes as you spit your words, jabbing his shoulder with your pointer finger. “Like you give a shit that I left?”

His dense brows draw down, his whole face a grimace, his voice practically booming throughout the hallway, close enough that the sound of it rumbles in your chest. “I don’t know how else I can say it. I never wanted to lose you.”

“Yeah? Well you never fucking had to!”

Santiago is the one who turns from you now, pacing back in a loop, both hands lifting and dragging backward through his grizzled curls, flattening them to his head in disbelief. He rounds back to you, spittle glistening on his lower lip from his tirade. He’s waving his arms now, everything being thrown upward just like the hideous lurch in your stomach. “You’re the one who ran from this!”

Well, that’s the biggest pile of shit you ever heard. You fold your arms to your chest, becoming guarded and taut where he becomes more frenzied. “Oh ho ho,” you scoff. “Now that’s a grade A delusion, right there.” He mumbles something under his breath, shaking his head from side to side in a long, disbelieving drag. In denial. Still. “You’ve been running, Santiago. You’ve done nothing but run from this. Even the whole time I was right next to you. Especially then.”

He steps towards you, driving your body back into the door without making a scrap of contact with you. From the force of him alone. He leans his face in real close, his movements disconcertingly slow - cautious and deliberate. It’s not threatening – you don’t feel physically unsafe at all - but you can tell from the flare of his nostrils and that gunpowder glint in his eye that while his movements may be constrained, he’s still arming himself with a coming barrage.

You flatten yourself – your back to the shut paneled door- and Santiago lifts his hand, reaching up to you. Pincering your chin deceptively tenderly between his thumb and forefinger, making sure you look at him. “Right. And you’ve been so perfect, huh?” His eyes needle you, making it impossible for you to wheedle out of this one. To dismiss him. He’s making sure you take at least some accountability for your part in this. “Fucking other guys to get back at me? Insisting we keep it a secret? Pissing off to another fucking continent, two days early, by the way, before we’d even put things right?” You break eye contact, your vision of him blurred by wilful tears. He releases your chin from his grip then, but the space between you remains tight. Close, even as you feel a million miles from him. “Christ - it’s like you never fucking wanted this to work. Never believed I was worth it. How am I supposed to work with that?”

Hot, spiking tears spill over onto your cheeks. You scrub them away with a flattened palm but it still doesn’t slow them down.

“Please,” you beg limply, shaking your head from side to side. You want him to stop this. You just want this to be over.

“I was never the guy someone would bring home to their mama, was I? Too fucked up and too broken for that? Hands too bloody, right, to be good enough for you?” You balk audibly in protest at his words, but even so, it sends a hot flash of heat to your cheeks.

Is there some truth in it?

Had you been afraid of what he’d done, even though the blood on his hands matches yours? Or… maybe because of it?

Your lower lip begins to tremble as the ire in Santiago’s eyes burns you, hot like coals. But he has more to say. “I get it. It’s easier to blame me for everything that got fucked up, right?” He beats his palm emphatically against his chest and flattens it there. “I’m hardly a fucking Saint, I’ll admit that much. But do you honestly think that I ever wanted to hurt you? That this doesn’t fucking hurt me?”

No. You want to say “no”. No. That’s not what you believe at all, but instead the words that find their way out are cruel and petty. “Well you did. You hurt me!”

You wish you could get rid of it, this anger in your chest. You only want to love him… but you tried that, and since it didn’t work, it somehow feels like the anger is all you have left to fill this hole in your middle.

His eyes tighten, and Santiago jabs his finger back and forth, his voice hoarse as he pushes the words out from the pit of his chest. “It never mattered, what I did or didn’t do. It was never going to be good enough for you.”

“That’s not true. At all!” You spit back. “It’s you who thought that. Not me. Not me. You wouldn’t even fucking try.”

Santiago scrubs a tear away from his own cheek now. His voice creaks and cracks apart. “I tried. I did. But you only want me under certain conditions right. If I quit. If I get out. Maybe if I’m someone fucking else.”

“That’s not fair, that’s not how it is. For fuck’s sake, Santi.”

You are both entirely undone now with this ugly rage, tears wetting your cheeks, and this resentment and blame twisting your words and your faces into something unrecognisable.

That makes it all the worse when Frankie’s torso pokes out of his door in the hallway. You know that the two of you are not yourselves. Frankie’s face twists with disappointment and concern in equal measure, and you fold your arms across your chest defensively, feeling embarrassed that he is seeing you this way. At your worst. Why do you and Santiago always seem to bring out the worst in each other? You’d swear blind to anyone that he’s the best person you know.

“Guys. What the fuck?” Frankie ventures. His voice is grogged by sleep, and you get the feeling he would step out into the hall if he wasn’t entirely nude behind the door frame.

Feeling suddenly ashamed, with the contrasting softness of Frankie’s eyes on yours, you feel the urge to run from yourself and what you’ve become, all twisted up like this. You push past Santiago in the hallway, storming down the stairs as tears now cascade freely down your cheeks. You don’t even make an attempt to mop them up now, letting them course down and drip from the point of your chin.

Then, with an aggravated sigh, Santiago follows you too, in pursuit, despite Frankie’s barked pleas that he “leave it alone, cabrón”.

You push out of the threshold and into the night, the cooler air a welcome relief. You pace away from the house, wanting to leave it, to leave him entirely, but your body will not let you. Will not carry you far enough away, and your steps quickly run out of steam.

When Santiago finds you, you are stood with your back to him, looking out towards the white crash of waves. He comes and stands next to you, hands gently clenched by his sides.

“Look,” he begins, staring out at the expanse of water. You feel your anger cresting and with it comes a wave of sadness. “I love you. But maybe you’re right. Maybe… we’re not good for each other. Maybe we just… can’t make each other happy.”

You shake your head softly. Tip your eyes to the sky to stave off yet more tears. “I just wish we’d never changed things.” You wish more than anything that you could simply swallow it. Go back to how things were before.

“Don’t,” Santi implores, turning to you with his hands cupped as though in offering, soft and haphazard and trying to catch on your elbow, your shoulder, your hand. “Don’t say that. Please. No matter how fucked this got… You’re the best thing I ever-”

But, your anger is not done. Your palms raise in the air, forming a barrier between your bodies - a defence against his brutal love - and you snatch yourself away from him. Your voice is once again harsh as it rings in accusation, words tearing from your lips like bullets. “-Let go?”

There is a beat.

“Seriously. You’re gonna stand there and tell me I could I have fucking stopped you?”

You raise your palms and plant them to your face, splayed fingers tugging in disbelief from your temples, sliding down to your mouth - drawing your cheeks into a grimace. You look at him and his face is once again taut with blame. His mouth a thin, downturned line. But even now….. Somehow, even now, you want to kiss him. Want to kiss him until he is soft again, like you know he can be.

Why would he never turn soft for you - not all the way? Soft in your arms? Why would he never?

He shifts his weight from foot-to-foot under your scrutiny. He sees the anger melt away from your face, but his is not done. “I mean, fuck. What do you want from me, huh? You want me to come with you? Just drop everything?”

“Just stop, Santi,” you plead, weakly, but there’s no way he heard you over his own tirade.

“My whole career. This shit I’ve got going on with Lorea. Pick-up and move here? Huh? Tell me? What do you want from me?”

You fold your arms across your chest, closing yourself off to him. “Please, just drop it.”

“You want me to have dinners with you and your family on Sundays? Take the nephews to the playpark, huh?”

He won’t stop. He won’t stop talking, stop pushing you, and you can’t take it. You’re going to snap.

“Go fucking grocery shopping? And get married and have babies and-?”

“Yes!” you finally yell, your whole body craning forward as you fire your answer out through your throat, the word coming out scuffed and sudden; but nothing if not truthful. Your eyes go wide, quivering with tears as well as the shock of your revelation. The shock of revealing something you can barely even admit to yourself.

That is what you want. With him.

Santiago is evidently as shocked as you are too. Stunned into silence, in fact. He takes a perceptible step back from you, punching out a breath like he’s just been struck with a body shot. All the tension drops from his limbs, and his arms flop uselessly to his sides.

But, instead of backtracking, from somewhere, somehow, you finally find the courage to stand in your truth. “Yes,” you say shakily. “I want that, you asshole.” And, at those words, you interpret the most repulsive thing you’ve seen in his eyes all night. Pity. “And you, meanwhile? You’d rather get shot in the guts than do that with me, wouldn’t you? Something so mundane as being happy? Something so fucking worthless as loving me?” You tear your head away from him, whip your gaze away as you cannot bear to look at him. Cannot bear to see your true wants rejected. With a final question, you stab your pointer finger against your sternum with enough force that it hurts. “I’m not a mission, so I’m not worth it right? Not important?”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor, to a neutral spot between you. His voice all but cracks apart, small and broken. “I told you that I love you.”

“That wasn’t enough!” You bite your words off before you can even think, and his eyes snap back up to yours then. Wounded. Glassy. You regret the words as soon as you have spoken them, but it is far too late to recall them now. You can see that they cut him - and you can even understand why they would hurt. What an awful thing to have said, you think; that his love wasn’t enough.

It was everything.

Everything.

Wasn’t it?

Even so, here you stand, still waiting and hoping that he can offer you something more than that alone. A solution, perhaps. A way to fix this.

Instead though, Santiago simply nods slowly. Contemplatively. In resignation. He stands eerily still. Eerily quiet. Entirely stoic. “Right. Well.” His hand rasps back and forth over his stubble, and his voice is entirely sunken. Defeated. He’s a soldier. Your friend. Your lover. But most of all, now he’s someone who appears to have stopped fighting for you. He looks you in the eye, all of his anger dissipated. Voice scrubbed clean and entirely dispassionate. “That’s too bad then. Because I don’t have anything else I can give you.”

He turns from you now, and you grab onto his arm. “Believe me. The only thing I ever wanted from you… With you, was a future, Santiago.”

It breaks your heart when he quietly, slowly extricates his arm from your grasp, slipping through your fingers like fine sands. Did you really think that you could do that? That you could keep on pushing him, without eventually pushing him away?

A divot notches in his brow. “Mmm-hmm. Well I guess we fucked any shot at that now, didn’t we?”

You search his ashen eyes - almost in desperation - for some of that all too familiar fire. For any sort of spark for you.

Godammit, as soon as the anger has gone, you want it back. You want something; only because it seems a damn sight better than nothing at all.

You can’t handle it - the thought that any future with him is being taken off of the table once and for all. You know - if you step back from this - that you’ve been far from perfect. That you’ve been bitter, volatile, reactive. Maybe even cruel, at times. You know, in truth, that you shouldn’t be so hung up on the past -on what happened all those months ago and beyond- but it’s the only thing Santiago has ever given you to dwell on. How were you supposed to move on, when he’s never been able to look ahead with you?

Still, all of a sudden, being faced with any and all possibilities of a future with him being ripped away from you, it is all you want to talk about. The past and your grievances and the blame now seem wholly irrelevant. You feel bile rise into your mouth. “Listen. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. Just… How do we get past this, Santiago? That’s what matters.”

He stops, halting his retreat back to the house. He turns, slowly. And, Santiago takes your hands into each of his. Looks at you solemnly, as your eyes flit over his face in doubt and fear and regret. He bundles your hands up together, sandwiching them together between his warm, steady palms and he gives them a squeeze - full of finality. “Maybe… Maybe we don’t,” he sounds, flatly, voice scrubbed clean of emotion. And, the only thing worse than hearing his words out loud, is that he looks like he believes them.

For once, Santiago “Pope” Garcia seems cold, and it hurts more than any of his fire has ever burnt you. Maybe the anger, horrible as it feels, is better. Because it is better than nothing. Better than losing him altogether.

After all, what is it that happens when the fire goes out?

Well, you suddenly feel like you’re about to find out.

You suddenly feel like it’s truly about to be over.

And so, you clasp your hands over your mouth and you sob, fleeing towards the interior of the house, because you have no place else left to run but away from him.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #oscar isaac #ride or die series

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xnchxntmxnt · 1 year ago

Note

okay I've finally figured out the prompt situation 😅

congrats on 800 followers and here's to many more to come!!

for the event, could I get a drabble of diluc with the prompts …you realize that you long to see them again and “i’ve been afraid of changing because I’ve built my life around you" (landslide by fleetwood mac) ? diluc's pov if it's not too much to ask for?

congrats again 👍 you are so cool

ok jack. jack remember ily thank you for the notes (this broke my heart)

Coming Home

Character: Diluc Ragnvindr

Warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, a lot of diluc backstory that may not be 100% accurate but I'm p sure I got it

Notes: ok so. The “moment” hit already and he’s home yada yada yada im not following the prompt what else is new /hj I TRIED ok. not proofread I'm sorry

gn reader

reblogs > likes

send an ask to join my taglist

800 event (please join)

It was a long walk home.

The time without you was terrifying. He insisted he needed time away, time to think—to be angry, to grieve, to process it all—without the fear of lashing out on you.

His father passed due to the Fatui’s traps and Delusions and went on a rampage through the country. He couldn’t hold still, he couldn’t think, and you didn’t deserve to be around him and deal with the results of something that wasn’t your problem.

Despite how much he still believed all that, he knew he couldn’t run forever.

He hesitated for a long moment but decided to ring the doorbell. He rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting anxiously for the door to open. When it opened, he gave a small, awkward wave to Adelinde.

Her mouth opened slightly as she struggled to put the words together to speak. “Master Diluc—“

He shook his head. “Please, just….can I come in?”

She put on her best face, taking a moment to steady herself. “Of course. The winery will always have a place for you.”

He followed her a few feet in the doorway when he heard another voice from the top of the stairs.

“Adelinde? Who is it?” you asked, followed by a quiet gasp.

Diluc, using every ounce of strength he could muster in his mind, raised his head to look at you. He didn’t deserve to see you—he didn’t deserve you—but he had to know you were okay.

The next thing he knew, you ran down the stairs to him and jumped into his arms. He tried to cover his groan of pain with a cough—he had more injuries than he thought, initially—but wrapped his arms tightly around you. You were here, in his arms again. It was everything he’d wished he could be selfish and have for years before he had you, and everything he’d dreamed about in the time he spent away.

“Diluc,” you said in a hushed voice, pulling away enough to look at him.

That look said everything. He knew he’d broken your trust, he knew you were upset. If you’d left on a rampage for several weeks to a foreign country and just left a note and occasionally sent letters home, he would be angry too. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew that.

“Go get a shower, darling. You smell like the woods.”

He smiled. Genuinely, actually smiled for the first time in ages. You always managed to pick him up whenever anything was wrong, usually with an ill-timed joke or comforting words. Usually both. He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he muttered, not entirely sure how much he was thanking you for.

Later that evening, after a shower, a proper meal, and Adelinde insisting on helping bandage him up, he made his way to the bedroom you shared before he left. In the time he was still in Mondstadt, he didn’t have the heart to go through his father’s things in the master bedroom.

He knocked quietly and entered, unsure if you were asleep. He knew it was late when he arrived home and even later now that he’d settled in. It was nice to wear the soft, clean clothes Adelinde prepared for him after nearly wrapping him head to toe in bandages.

You were reading, simply lounging in bed. He stood by the door, tense and unsure of what was going to happen from here. He was home, you seemed happy to see him, but he knew you had to be upset. It was completely justified, he knew that it wasn’t fair for him to up and leave like that.

“I-”

“Don’t,” you said softly, closing the book and setting it on the nightstand next to you. Your voice wasn’t cold or harsh by any means—you were calm. And when you looked at him, he only saw his beautiful lover that had always stood by him, no matter if he was in an argument with his immature brother or was injured fighting off hillychurls. Maybe this wouldn’t be much different.

You held your arms out for him and he hesitated. Would you really want to hold him, after everything he did? Everything you didn’t even know he did?

But your eyes silently pleaded with him, so he laid next to you. Immediately, he felt your arms gingerly around him, brushing over the bandages and minimal amount of bare skin between them. He melted into you, having kept himself from that kind of love for so long—he didn't realize how much he missed you until he was there with you again.

Silently, the tears poured from his eyes. His breath shook and he buried his face in your shoulder. As gently as possible, he felt your hands brush through his slightly-damp hair, brushing pieces out of his face and running over his head soothingly.

“It’s alright,” you mutter, kissing the top of his head.

“It’s not,” he tries to argue, realizing very quickly how quickly the exhaustion was hitting him. “I’m–I’m so sorry—”

You hush him gently, tilting his head to look at you. “Diluc, we don’t have to talk tonight. You’re home, you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me—but you’re exhausted. I can see it in your eyes. We can talk tomorrow. For now, sleep. It’s late.”

He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “I love you,” he muttered.

It took a long time for his mind to shut down. He couldn’t stop thinking—there was so much he felt like he had to explain. So much had happened, he’d missed so much since he was home. But he was home now, and he guessed that was the important part. After what felt like ages, he let himself relax against you and eventually fell asleep, enjoying the feeling of you running your hands through his hair. In a world where he now didn’t have anyone, and he didn’t know who he could or couldn’t trust, he knew he had you, at least in this moment.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing

‘Cause I built my life around you

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parkerflix · 2 years ago

Text

—high hopes

ethan landry x gn!reader + hint of chad meeks-martin x gn!reader

wc: 0.8k

genre: angst, love triangle, open ended ending, e2l & f2l, e2l is one sided thought yk the vibes

synopsis: ethan held out hope that his thoughts were wrong.

a/n: for like the 3 people who asked for a part 2 to i hate u <3, ily ! also i am opening requests! send wtv my way and i’ll try my best!

taglist! @l5byrinth @knightinshiningdenimjeans @pedrettilov3r

ethan had always had an inkling of a crush on you. it wasn’t something you had seemed to be aware of, and he was grateful that you weren’t. unlike him, he was perceptive on your feelings & the feelings of others around him.

so when he had introduced you to his friend group, his interest was piqued when chad, the nicest one out of all of them seemingly disliked you.

he hadn’t bothered to confront chad about it, mainly because he just seemed to steer clear of you. ethan knew it bugged you, and you weren’t sure how to fix it. he didn’t want to tell you that chad was acting that way because he liked you, that might just ruin his chances.

he was always acutely aware of how you tended when chad came into the room whenever you were over, or how you would try to converse with him and get chad to join whatever you were doing. ethan figured you acted like that to try to get on chad’s good side, never quite understanding why you weren’t liked by him.

today was different than most days, you hadn’t come over due to having an impromptu study session with mindy. ethan understood that you were busy, but he was missing your presence in the dorm. you were over more often than not, and if you weren’t at his place you was at yours instead.

he was laying on his bed, trying to write his philosophy paper when he heard the jingling of keys. chad wasn’t aware, but ethan had managed to make you your own copy of their key. turning his head, his heart swelled with hope that it was you, coming over even though it was later than you normally came.

unfortunately for him, it was just chad, giving him a wave and closing the door. he was busy seemingly on the phone with someone, dropping the bags of takeout on their wobbly table.

chad made his way over to his bed, flopping onto the mattress, and ethan just eyed him curiously. chad finished his conversation and hung up, taking a quick glance around the room, a frown appearing on his face before it was replaced with a nonchalant look. ethan had caught the frown, not wanting to confront the bigger man.

“where’s your friend?” chad asked, catching ethan off guard.

ethan made his way from the bed to the table, rummaging through the takeout bags. chad had picked up italian (your favorite). he saw at the bottom of the bag what presumably was your food, your favorite from the restaurant.

“uhm, they’re with mindy for a study session.”

chad let out a hum, going back to his phone and letting the conversation die.

ethan grabbed his food, sitting on his bed, fiddling with the container lid trying to sort his thoughts.

“do you like them?” the words had left his mouth quicker than he could register it.

“what?” chad quickly looked up from his phone, eyeing ethan.

“it’s a simple question, do you like them?”

chad rolled his eyes, sitting up on the mattress.

“no.”

“you’re a horrible liar.”

“what does it matter anyways?”

ethan stilled at the question. he had known you for what felt like forever, and he had yet to make a move. he wasn’t even fully sure if you shared the same feelings, not with you focusing on chad every time he was near.

“it just matters.”

“that’s a shit answer dude.”

“and?”

“you can’t just question people if they like someone out of the blue for no real reason.”

“it mattering is reason enough.”

chad exhaled loudly, a sign he was starting to get agitated.

“it’s really not, do you have something to say to me?”

“do you like them?” ethan asked, hoping to get a truthful answer out of his roommate.

chad ran a hand through his hair, quiet for a moment before answering.

“not that it matters, but i do. but i’m not expecting nor do i want something to happen.”

ethan knew chad was lying with that second statement, he had seen the way chad secretly took care of you, not wanting you to know. he let out a sigh, running his hand over his face.

“i knew it. fuck why do you have to like the same person i like?”

both of them got quiet after that, a beat of silence before they both heard the sounds of your tamogachi keychain, signaling you were there.

you opened the door, and waved to both of them, neither one of them moving. after closing and locking the door, you made a beeline for the table, picking up your food.

“my favorite! you guys are seriously the best.”

chad had a pained look on his face, making your heart clench for some reason. ethan seemingly had enough of whatever moment you were having with chad, grabbing his coat and walking out the front door, muttering something unintelligible.

you stared at the door, not knowing who you should check on, whether it be ethan or chad.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fic #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry angst #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #jack champion x reader #mason gooding #jack champion #scream #scream 6 #scream fanfic #scream imagine

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mlwritersguild · 1 year ago

Note

Adrinette roommates AU with "there was only one bed" please (ily mia)

Fervor Lullaby, by @chy-tea93

AO3 link; Just One Bed, Roommates AU, Aged-Up Characters, Post-Reveal Pre-Relationship, Mutual Pining, Reverse Love Square AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

“So… looks like we’re sharing a room then.”

Marinette nodded in agreement. “And a bed.”

---

It really should have come as no surprise. They’d gotten a small place to keep rent costs down after all. But the listing had said two bedrooms. What it really should have said was one-bedroom and extra closet. If it could even be considered a closet, there was hardly room for one twin bed and a small dresser and that was if you didn’t like seeing the floor.

Gabriel’s accounts had all been frozen post-defeat and Adrien had only the funds made when modeling – before he decided to quit. Marinette had a little in savings as well from working at the bakery. They both had just enough to pitch in on the security deposit. Whoever had taken the photos of this place did an impressive job, the ‘second’ bedroom looked at the very least, useable online. It was the only available apartment on a top floor in their price range, so they had taken it sight-unseen.

“So… looks like we’re sharing a room then.”

Marinette nodded in agreement. “And a bed.”

Not like they could back out now anyways, money had been paid and they needed this – to be independent. Even if it was going to be more awkward than ever before.

“Don’t worry, I don’t wiggle too much and at least the bed is larger than either of us are used to.”

“It’s quite large, yeah.” She was worried, but not because of him.

Her nights usually ended with the blanket somewhere down on the bottom of her room back at the bakery, head hanging off the side and more often than not, there was drool. And that was when she didn’t have nightmares, she was ten-times worse after one. How on earth was she going to make it through one night without embarrassing herself?

“Honestly, I’m kind of excited. It will be like having a sleepover every night.”

“Heh. Yeah. A sleepover! I sleep love-overs!”

Adrien gave her a quizzical look and dang-it if that signature chat-like glint in his eyes didn’t make her weak in the knees.

“Ookay then. Um… I’m going to go unload my suitcase and then take a shower. We can figure out dinner afterwards?”

“Sure. Yeah. Okay. I’ll unpack the food my parents sent.”

Marinette felt his arms wrap around from behind and pull her into him, his breath tickling as he nuzzled her neck. “Thank you for moving in with me, Mari.”

She stiffened, willing the goosebumps to back down. They didn’t. Adrien hummed behind her before pulling away and heading into the bedroom. Their bedroom. She was doomed. Completely doomed.

---

“It was so nice of your parents to send cookies!”

“And cheese croissants!”

“You two are insatiable.”

Tikki and Plagg had quickly made themselves at home in the middle of the kitchen table, both munching on the aforementioned treats. Marinette could tell how much they absolutely loved being able to be around each other out in the open. Despite the strange atmosphere that had hung around her and Adrien ever since finding everything out, seeing the two Kwamis happy had been worth it.

“So, Pigtails, Tikki here says you are in love with a certain cat boy I know.”

“Shhh Plagg! I told you that in confidence!” Tikki all but yelled.

“I thought there were no more secrets! I’m going to need an extensive amount of camembert if this is how it’s gonna be.”

“Would both of you quiet down? This apartment is small!”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Kitten gets really into his shower routine.”

“I… didn’t need to know that. And yes. To answer your question, I am and kind of always have been… but it won’t be an issue! He made it clear that in love with someone else and I want him to be happy. Once we both get better jobs, we can find a bigger place with our own rooms.”

The two Kwami stared at each other with knowing looks.

“Right. Like I said. Camembert, stat!”

“Plagg! Be nice!” Tikki tossed a crumb towards the tiny cat that he easily dodged.

Marinette opened the fridge and grabbed a wheel, popping the container open and placing it on the table, much to Plagg’s delight.

She decided she might as well start unpacking her suitcase (they would slowly move the rest of their things over the weekend) and made her way into the bedroom. The one thing this place had going for it at least was the sheer number of pillows stocked in the closet. Those would make a nice barrier to prevent Adrien from being kicked off of the bed. Maybe.

Foregoing her bag for the moment, Marinette collected every last pillow she could find, including a couple from the tiny not-a-bedroom bedroom across the hall, and began creating a wall down the middle of the bed. Getting it right took some wrangling as some of the pillows were just too soft to really create much of a barrier, but after a few tries it looked – decent.

Surveying her work, Marinette leaned against the dresser opposite the foot of the bed. She could do this. Sharing a bed with her best friend who turned out to be her other best friend that she was most definitely not in love with (she totally was) would be easy, especially with the pillows to prevent any sort of contact.

“Wow Mari, your work rivals the great wall of China.”

Adrien’s voice caused her to squeak and look towards him. Her arms flailed as she felt herself tip backwards from the momentum of her turn only to be caught by her partner’s arms.

“Sorry, Mar. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Psh. Me? Scared? Nah. Just felt like flying!”

He raised a brow. She was truly on a roll tonight.

“Well maybe save the flying for the suit, no?”

“Good idea.”

“So, what’s with the pillow wall?”

She felt her cheeks flush, which was just absolutely lovely. “I, uh, kick a lot so I thought it might be safer for you this way.”

“Oh.”

Why did he look so disappointed? She needed a distraction, or the kicked kitten look he suddenly had was going to break her.

“Dinner! We need to have dinner! Otherwise, we won’t sleep well!”

He looked surprised at her sudden change of subject but thankfully didn’t comment on it, instead following her train of thought. “Want to order some takeout? I’m not really good at cooking at the moment and it’s been a long day with signing paperwork and everything.”

“Takeout would be great.”

🗝️🗝️🗝️

Adrien was used to Marinette’s usual quirkiness, but tonight she seemed more on edge. He figured it had to do with the fact that they were unexpectedly sharing a room and a bed. In all honesty, he was excited at the notion. With everything that had gone down after his father had been defeated there hadn’t been much time for them to just be together and he missed the way they used to just hang out and relax.

They had put on a movie to watch during dinner and though things had mostly been comfortable, tonight was more strained, both eating in silence rather than engaging in their usual banter. Hopefully the jitters of moving into their first apartment away from their parents for the first time would wear off quickly.

He was incredibly grateful to Marinette. Before they’d officially revealed themselves, she had supported him after Gabriel was publicly outed. She never once made him feel like he was less of a person for being related to the tyrant. That’s why, when he accidentally saw her detransform on her balcony one night shortly after a now non-eventful patrol, he didn’t hesitate to leap down and reveal himself. This amazing woman who had remained by his side, no matter how bad it could possibly look for her future career or what other people said, turned out to be the savoir of Paris. It made him love her all the more.

“I love this movie.”

“Can we get three kittens? Please? Marie can be yours!”

“Don’t let Plagg hear you say that he might be offended.”

“I’ll just get him more cheese.”

Her laugh rang out and oh how he loved that sound. It was more addictive than any drug in his mind and he quickly decided he needed more of it. Leaning across the couch he reached for her sides and began tickling. It worked like the luckiest of charms. Lured in by the melody of her laughter, Adrien scooted closer to her, reaching up to get her underarms and neck. She squirmed and giggled as he drew closer, until he had her completely pinned underneath him.

Marinette looked stunning with rosy cheeks, eyes alight and a smile on her face. This was how he always loved to see her, something that he hadn’t experienced in months. So caught up in the moment, he let his guard down long enough to allow her to tickle him in return and make him go tumbling to the floor, laughing all the way.

“Crap! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m good!”

“Stinker. You play dirty.”

“Nah. All’s fair.”

He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, you okay cleaning up?”

“Absolutely.”

She didn’t move from her spot, both of them sharing a look that felt more intimate than most. He should just pull her to him and kiss her. Really, what was stopping him from doing just that? It had been a few years, but she’d once said she loved him as Chat. He had told her he was in love with someone else, having fallen for Marinette all those years ago on his very first day of public school. There was a chance she still felt the same way, right? She hadn’t dated anyone in all their years as friends, of this he was certain.

Right as he gathered up the courage and began to sit up, she rose. Try as he might, the disappointment was sure to show.

“I’ll be in soon, just let me know when you’re decent.”

“Will do.”

He watched somberly as she softly closed the bedroom door behind her.

🗝️🗝️🗝️

Heart racing, Marinette sat on the bed for a moment attempting to collect her thoughts. Every point of contact he’d made on her had left lingering flames. She needed to dial it back because there was no way in hell she was losing her best friend over her stupid feelings. No way at all.

Her mind wandered back to that night on her balcony, mere months ago. She had landed after an outing with Chat, something she was worried would become less and less now that their main enemy had been defeated, and quickly detransformed. The thud of his boots on the deck behind her had made her jump, but as his detransformation fell she could only smile in pure adoration. Her two favorite people in all the world had turned out to be the same person and she had never loved him more.

Unfortunately for her, she knew Adrien was in love with someone, and that someone was not her. They’d managed to make it through, even if things were more awkward and, with her parents’ blessing, had decided on renting the apartment together.

Adrien could hardly afford to rent even a studio by himself and without hesitation she had suggested they be roommates. Would it absolutely destroy her when he finally brought that special girl home? Yes. Was she going to go through with it anyways? Yes. The whole ‘just one bed’ thing really was a curveball she hadn’t seen coming.

Sighing, mostly to herself, but partially in hopes that Tikki would hear (she didn’t), Marinette changed into her pj’s and did the rest of her nightly routine in the small two-piece bathroom attached to the bedroom. Time for the strangest sleepover she’d ever had.

---

“You’re really sticking with the pillow wall, then?”

“It’s for your safety, trust me.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“I assure you; she is!” Of course, Tikki made an appearance now.

“Oh?”

“I have a habit of kicking and ending up in odd places on the bed.”

“I mean… I could just hold you so you can’t go anywhere.” He winked. She blushed.

“Ha! Funny one.” She climbed into her side of the bed, forgetting the comforter that was still on the floor from her earlier construction.

“You, uh, gonna be warm enough, Mari?”

“Mmhmm!”

An involuntary shiver gave her away and Adrien laughed softly as he brought the blanket up and over her, tucking it in around her shoulders.

“There. Snug as a bug in a rug.”

A snort escaped her.

“You know you love me.”

He had no idea.

Adrien turned off the light, though the city lights illuminated the room enough that she could still see everything clearly. They would definitely need to invest in some black-out curtains. The bed dipped as he climbed into the bed, causing her to tense as she kept herself from rolling towards the center and into the makeshift barrier.

“Huh. The pillows are quite supportive when I’m on my side.”

“Mmhmm.”

She felt one push into her back a little.

“Squishy too.”

“Goofball.”

“But I’m your goofball.”

“Goodnight, Adrien.”

“Goodnight, Mari.”

---

That morning she woke up by some miracle in relatively the same spot as she had fallen asleep in. It would seem that the pillow wall had remained largely intact as well… except for the arm that had made its way through it and was currently wrapped around her waist. That would explain why she hadn’t moved.

Gently, she lifted said arm and slid out of bed placing her personal pillow underneath, so she didn’t wake him. After gathering some clothes for the day, she stole a glance at him before heading to the main bathroom to shower. Adrien was smooshed up against the barrier, golden locks hanging in his face, mouth partly open as he slept. He looked so incredibly peaceful, something he had long deserved.

She could get used to waking up to this every day.

---

And she did.

A week had gone by with her waking before Adrien, his arm breaking the barrier to snuggle her. Somehow, she had managed not to completely karate kick him off the bed yet, though there had been a few mornings where the blankets were a complete mess.

Today had been long, the bakery busier than usual due to an influx of tourists for the season. Marinette was a walking zombie at this point, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep.

“Welcome home!” Adrien stood over the stove, cooking what looked to be a box of pasta and something else, with a large grin on his face. He wore the light pink ‘life is what you bake it’ apron that he had gotten her on their friendiversary last year.

“Hey. Thanks.”

“I watched a video on how to make pasta. Tikki helped me with the marinara so it’s a little bit on the sweet side. But I haven’t burned the place down yet!”

She walked over and dipped her finger in the sauce to taste. It was on the sweeter side for sure, but in a good way.

“Thanks, Adri.”

“You’ve been working hard lately, and I wanted to try and do something nice.”

“Well, I am certainly not complaining. And lucky for us, my parents sent home some bread!”

“I might have called and asked them to set some aside…”

“You’re too sweet. I’m going to go get cleaned up and then I’ll join you.”

His smile did nothing but melt her heart. If only he realized what it was he was truly doing to her.

🗝️🗝️🗝️

Adrien had been super excited to make dinner but watching Marinette actually enjoy what he had prepared made him giddy. She’d been putting in extra hours at the bakery, trying to save up money for when they were in school next year and couldn’t work as much. He’d been trying to find somewhere to work but didn’t have many qualifications at the moment, aside from modeling. His dream was to teach le primaire music. Not to mention, it was hard to find someone who would hire him, being the son of a former magical terrorist and all.

Much to his delight, the one bed thing hadn’t turned out to be much of an issue. The first night he had tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable spot until he’d finally decided to snuggle the makeshift wall. He’d awoken that first morning with his arm shoved through and holding Marinette’s Pillow. He could only conclude that he had snuggled her throughout the night and that she hadn’t wanted to wake him or make him feel bad. After that he had tried his hardest to fall asleep facing the edge of the bed but always woke up in the same position.

He was surprised at the fact that she hadn’t been as violent in her sleep as she and Tikki had tried to get him to believe. There had been a couple of mornings that she had yoinked the covers right off of him and wiggled around but nothing near as crazy as he had imagined. Tonight, however, she seemed to be thrashing more than she had been the last week.

“N-no. Cht. Pllse dnt do ths.”

Her mumble startled him, more-so because she had mentioned him than her voice itself.

“Mari?”

“Please, no!” Her voice came out as a strangled yell.

Facing away from him, she lunged backwards, nearly knocking him off the bed as she began to kick and knock both the covers and bottom half of the pillow-wall off the bed. Righting himself, he leaned up to look over the leftover pillow. Her arms were wound around her chest as her feet continued to kick, almost as if she was running from something.

Out of the corner of his eye, watched Tikki as she flew over and rested atop Marinette’s head, gently stroking her chosen’s hair.

“Nightmare?”

“She has them about once a week. It only gets worse from here.”

“Oh Jeeze.” His heart was racing. “Is there anything I can do?”

“She’s going to hate me for this, but I think it would help if you held her. She’ll begin to call out for you soon and sometimes will sleepwalk in search of you.”

His heart sank at that. He’d had no idea.

Tossing the rest of the pillows to the floor, Adrien sat up slightly before moving closer to her, cautiously reaching out and rubbing up and down her exposed arm. Marinette stiffened before quickly turning to face him and wrapping her arms around his torso. Thankfully her kicking seemed to have slowed down.

“Kitty. You came back.”

“Always, love. Always.”

He held her tight as her dream seemingly played out, listening as she mumbled incoherently. After what felt like hours, she finally stilled and began breathing evenly once again.

“That was amazing Adrien. She has never calmed down that fast.”

“No?”

The little red kwami shook her head. “No. You remember when she told you about you being akumitized as Chat Blanc?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s what her nightmares are usually about. First you destroy the world, then, sparing her, you destroy yourself. She always tries to stop you but never makes it in time.”

“Oh wow. I never knew it had affected her so much.” He lightly brushed the hairs that had collected around her face away, tucking them behind her ear.

“I think having you here is going to be a really good thing. You both need each other, she’s just too scared to do anything about it.”

Scared? Marinette? He had never known her to be too terribly scared of anything. Nervous, sure, but never scared. Even when she had told him the story of his akumatization, she’d been calm and levelheaded. Marinette began to stir in his arms, pushing against him slightly, her brows arched in confusion, seemingly unsure of where she was.

“Mari?”

Her eyes slowly blinked open.

“Adrien?”

“Yeah, its me. You had a nightmare.”

“Oh. OH.”

“You alright?”

“I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all, love.”

She looked up at him, confusion written in her eyes.

“Tikki filled me in. She thought that my holding you might help, and she was right.”

“Love?”

“A new nickname I thought I’d try… if you like?”

She frowned and looked away for a moment before locking her gaze back on his.

“Love. But… what about…”

“Mari, there’s no one else. It’s always been you. From the moment we met.”

Her eyes widened as the information sank in.

“M-me?”

“You. I love you Marinette.”

Though he didn’t expect what came next, he would forever be grateful it had. Marinette’s arms wrapped around his neck as her lips crashed into his, desire and longing coursing through her. His hands reached up to cup her face, pulling her closer as he deepened their kiss. It was everything he had ever dreamed of and more, the woman of his dreams here in his arms holding him like she never wanted to let go. Deep down he knew she never would.

🗝️🗝️🗝️

Life so far had been a whirlwind of emotions and crazy clichés, but lying in Adrien’s arms, knowing he loved her just as much as she loved him, Marinette had never been more thankful for this little home they’d quickly made, complete with ‘just one bed’.

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ereardon · 2 years ago

Note

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

💖 What made you start writing?

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

💔 Is there a fic of yours/or someone else that broke your heart?

ILY <3

Oh hello boo 🥰

✍ I don't have a formal one, but you know that I send you snippets all the time from WIPs and always feel free to send constructive criticism back! Part of this is answered in the next question, and part is because I (egotistically) feel like a pretty strong editor given my professional background so I don't usually feel the need to have a copy editor!

🙋‍♀️ Actually no! I wonder is that's the case for many people on here? I'm pretty private about my writing (the stuff that isn't published journalism) and I tend to keep things close to the vest because I get embarrassed easily! I'm always worried whatever I write isn't good enough and people will judge me!

💖 I've loved writing for as long as I can remember! In college I was the editor of our paper (just like Victoria), I was a journalist for 3 years in New York after I graduated and it's my life goal to write a novel!! It's always been an outlet for me and something I just love, even things I write that will never get read by anyone else. What made me start writing fics here was actually when I was doing research for (what I hope to be) a novel I'm working on! TGM inspired it, I do have a snippet here, but it's about a relationship between a female naval aviator and a Naval ship surgeon who meet while on assignment — but, plot twist, she got engaged three weeks before the run. I found some Jake fics on Tumblr that felt like great inspiration and helped me learn more about the Navy, and I was instantly hooked!

🤩 Obviously gotta be our boy Jake! He's just so easy for me to write, not sure why. I did a Bradley series and loved it but I won't lie, it took a lot more time/energy to figure out what to write there. I do think I'd like to try to write longform for him again, or even Bob!

💔 Ugh I think (SPOILER) Bradley's death in "As It Was" will always haunt me?? I am a hoe and I just read the epilogue of TiP and it RUINED me but I hadn't read the entire series so that's on my todo list for this week! I don't usually read things out of order, but it was on my dash and I couldn't resist. I love angst, what can I say.

🤲 Putting this last because it'll be longer! From the next chapter of ATF:

“It’s dark out,” he warned. “And late. Come on, let me give you a ride. I don’t want you to walk home alone.”

You shrugged and stepped forward toward the path that led up the hill. “I’ve walked home alone a hundred times, Seresin. I’ll be fine.”

And then you turned away from him. You couldn’t see Jake’s face fall, or the way he stayed and watched you climb the hilly path until you were out of sight.

You and Jake Seresin were not friends. You felt guilty that you had to remind him of that fact, but it seems that somewhere along the way he had forgotten. You were simply reminding him of the reality of the situation.

It didn’t explain why, though, when you entered your apartment and sat on the edge of your bed, pulling off your sneakers, you felt the sickening thread of guilt spread through your stomach as you remembered Jake’s face when you had said it.

You shook your head to clear the memory, but it clung, like condensation to a coaster. And no matter how hard you tried to superimpose another thought, another memory, another face, all you could picture was Jake.

#fanfic writing #answered asks

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ritzyu · 2 years ago

Text

𝙰 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙳𝚊𝚢.

💮 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚋𝚎𝚘𝚖𝚐𝚢𝚞 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

💮 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝

💮 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜; MDI!! soft!dom Beomgyu, suggestive content, teasing, fingering, cussing, cunnilingus (if I forget anything please do tell me<3 thanks!)

💮 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛(𝚜);

the header and divider(s) in this post were made by me, so please don’t come at me for "not giving credit"<3

this does not represent txt’s member, Choi Beomgyu, in any way!! Anything that this post contains are pure fiction! please don’t take anything too seriously<3

💮 𝚊/𝚗: hey baby, are you having a tough day like me and just need someone like Gyu to magically pop up at your doorstep and take care of you? Well baby, here you go<3 btw, smut starts and ends when you see these; !NSFW AHEAD! (and ꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦) That’s all, I hope you’re doin’ alright, ily baby, thank you and enjoy! mwah<3

You were on your way home, your head fuming due to too much anger that you were holding in. You were gripping so hard on your car’s steering wheel, you were sure as hell that there would be scratches and nail indents visible on it later on, but that you couldn’t help it.

Once you stopped at a red light, you took a second to close your eyes and take a deep breath, an attempt to calm your nerves. “Alright,” you sigh, feeling yourself cool down slowly. “I’m ca-” the sounds of loud horns honking right behind you made you take back what you were supposed to say.

People were yelling that you were taking a long time to drive away, not noticing that the light had turned green sooner than you had estimated. You could’ve sworn you popped a nerve but you also felt so embarrassed to even pick a fight when it was your fault that you kept the people waiting. So, without a word you immediately stepped on the gas and drove as fast as you can to your apartment. Wanting to just bury your face in your pillow and cry your stress out.

You hurriedly open the door and slam it shut, loudly. Beomgyu, your boyfriend, whom was playing on his ps5 on the living room couch, waiting for your arrival, was shocked.

He stared at you with a confused look as you angrily stomped your way to your shared bedroom, closing the door the same way you did with the first. You didn’t even bother saying ‘hi’ to the boy, let alone look at him.

Your face was all red, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall any second, hands formed into a fist. He had never seen you this upset before. He wondered; what could get you this worked up?

He figured he shouldn’t immediately barge in the room right now and ask you what’s wrong. He wanted to give you space so that you could let cool yourself down for a moment. In the meantime, he arranged a few things that he thinks could at least help you a little bit to release steam.

Twenty-five minutes passed and he finally knocks on the bedroom’s door. Softly calling out your name before waiting a second or two to open the door and let himself in.

You were already knocked out on the bed, laid to the side, almost curled into a ball while you hugged the stuffed animal Gyu got you as a random gift. He carefully closed the door and silently tip-toed to your corner of the bed, bending over to take a good look at your face, the lamp on the night stand providing more than enough light as aid.

Moving a few stray strands of hair from you face, Gyu noticed that your cheeks still had evidence that you cried yourself to sleep. He scanned your body for a second and noticed that you also didn’t bother to change your uniform. The scene of you just plopping onto the bed furiously and cried yourself to sleep that second played in Gyu’s mind for a mere second.

He sighed and went out of the room for a second. Coming back in, he brought a little bowl with lukewarm water and a small white towel that were hanging from the rim of the bowl.

Sitting down next to you, he gently fixes your form. You were now laid down on your back, the stuffed animal still in your possession. Beomgyu dipped the towel in the bowl of water and drained it before gently wiping your face with it, proceeding to do the same thing with the rest of your body. Both of you trusted each other so much and were comfortable enough to do things like this.

Beomgyu was almost done with wiping your body with the towel, and the only thing left to do was to make you wear your pajamas, but you eventually woke up, sitting down, and looked at yourself for a moment before actually processing things. You stared at the man in front of you with slightly wide eyes and a heated face. Gyu quickly stood up, both his arms raised in defense.

“Look! It’s not what it looks like, okay! I... I was just trying to clean you up and change your clothes since I noticed you didn’t change yet and--” you burst out in a soft laugh at the boy’s attempt to explain himself. You waved your hand at him and shook your head.

“Don’t worry Gyu, no need to explain so much, thank you so much for taking the time to take care of me, I appreciate.” You tugged on his shirt, making him sit back down, leaving a peck on his cheek. That caused a tornado of butterflies to whirl around his stomach, his body getting goosebumps.

He cleared his throat and then spoke, “Since you’re now awake..” he stood up, a hand reaching out for yours, “Come on, I have a few things set up for you.” he winked, making you blush a bright red. You nod and take his hand as he led you to the bathroom.

He yells out a little; ‘ta-da!’ once you enter. You stood there, astonished at the scenery that was displayed right before you. Scented candles were around the tub and rose petals were scattered almost everywhere, there even a few petals inside the tub filled with warm water and some bubbles floating here and there.

You looked back at Beomgyu, whom was clearly avoiding eye contact, feeling a little shy by the grand gesture he made.

“Aww, Gyuuuu” you cooed, swinging your arms around his neck, a hand making him face you, “You did all this for me?” you said innocently. Gyu responded with a nod and finally looked at you, a soft warm smile was plastered on his face.

“You should go and get in before the water gets cold,” he proposed, a hand pressing down on your waist for a second as he eyed your figure before looking back to meet your eyes, “I’ll go set something real quick, okay baby?” you nod, giving him a quick smooch before letting him go. He closed the bathroom door behind him as he left, giving you more privacy. You smiled at how caring and sweet Beomgyu could be towards you. It made you let out a cute little squeal matching small jumps of excitement.

You removed the rest of you clothing and put your hair up with a clam, avoiding getting it wet as you step inside the tub. You sighed once you body was fully dipped in the warm water, causing your body to relax. Just then, you heard someone knock, hearing Beomgyu’s voice follow as he called out your name.

“You can come in, Gyu,” that was all he needed to hear before opening the door. You let out a small gasp when he entered. In his hand, he was holding a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses in the other.

Your surprised expression softened as he came closer to you. “Mind holding these for me, Hun?” the corner of his lips twitched upwards, a smirk visibly shown on his face, handing you the two glasses. You obliged. Your brows frowned yet your lips couldn’t help but hold a smile as you took the glasses from your lover.

You watched as he opened the bottle of wine and poured its contents in each glass. He looked up at your expression, then scoffed, shaking his head as he poured the last ounce of wine in one of the glasses, “What’s with the look?”

You shrugged, “Isn’t this a bit too much though? You really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Oh, but I want to.” he places the bottle on the carpet and sat down there, taking one glass from you. “You deserve to just relax once in a while. I’ve seen you come home all tense and drained almost everyday. So don’t complain. Can’t I spoil my lovely, hard-working girlfriend every now and then, hm?” he leans in over the rim of the tub, giving you a slow, passionate kiss.

Once you both pull away from the kiss, your foreheads connected, both of you staring deeply into each other's eyes, you don’t know why and how but the way he looked at you made your world stop and your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you so much Gyu, you’re the best,” you nuzzle your nose with his, closing your eyes, he responds by doing the same.

“I know.” you lightly slap tap his cheek then caressing it with your thumb. He lets out a dramatic gasp, holding your hand that was on his cheek. “Damn, I do all this for you and you just slap me like that? I am offended.” overexaggerating his sentence, making you let out a little groan.

“I’m kidding,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it, sending butterflies to go wild in your stomach.

After a while, you finally finished the wine and got out the tub, Beomgyu of course left the bathroom even though you said you didn’t mind him being inside.

You were checking yourself in the mirror as you fixed your robe that was snugged around you before you heard a knock on the bathroom door before it opened behind. You looked at Gyu’s reflection in the mirror as he came closer to you.

He wrapped his arms around you waist, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He was peppering your neck with sweet kisses, making you squirm a bit under his touch.

“I have something for you in the bedroom as well.” he said, continuing to pepper your neck with kisses. Your hand flew to his hair, slowly tangling your fingers in it.

“Hmm?” you hummed in curiosity, “What is it?”

“I guess you just have to wait and see for yourself.” he winked at you in the mirror, both his hands straying from your waist to interlock with yours. He then spun you around as he started to hum a melody, with that; you both waltz your way to your bedroom door.

---- ❕NSFW ahead❕----

He gently lets go of your hand and opened the door, bowing playfully. You stared inside your shared bedroom with Beomgyu. There was a small table on one side of the bed, a tray on top of it, containing little bottles of.. oils? and a towel.

“Gy-”

“Just get naked, lay down on your stomach and put that towel over your ass.” he demanded, still not changing his position from earlier. You gulp and get inside. You don’t know why but the way he spoke turned you on so much.

You did what you were told, you didn’t even wear anything underneath your robe so you didn’t take too long to plop on the bed and lay on your stomach, messily placing the towel over your ass.

“D-done..” you mentally slapped yourself, why did you stutter? Stupid! you thought.

You felt Beomgyu get on the bed, his knees placed on the side of your waist. You see from your peripheral vision that he takes one bottle from the tray, and opens it, the scent of lavender filling the room as he poured the substance on his hands then rubbing it all over his hands.

He started to then massage your back, starting from your shoulders all the way down to your waist. The whole time he massaged you, you couldn’t help but grip onto the sheets on your bed from time to time and let out small high pitched moans when his large hands pressed harder down your small figure.

Overtime; you felt the heat in between your legs get stronger and stronger. You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together to release the tension. But still making to sure to not over do it, not wanting Beomgyu to notice what dirty shit you were doing.

Unfortunately for you, he did notice. He let out a dark chuckle seeing how pathetic you look rubbing your thighs together. He wanted to point it out, but he stayed silent and decided he wanted to tease you for a while.

“I’m gonna go lower, ‘kay?” you nod and hum in response, despite not actually fully comprehending what he told you. All you knew that you were down for whatever this man told you. He had you in the palm of his hands and both of you knew it.

Beomgyu slowly started to go lower as he massages you, he stops for a second at your hip, four of his fingers on each of his hand slyly going beneath your body and pressing a little harshly to were you hip bone was, while his both of his thumbs were pressed just above your ass.

He continued to tease you by making his fingers accidentally brush by the skin above your clit. You moaned uncontrollably under his touch. It was like he knew all the places that could make you feel good. And places where he knew would make you crazy.

After a while, you weren’t aware of what actions you were making, you started to grind on the bed, yet it didn’t ease out anything. Beomgyu then decides to go to your thighs, starting above your popliteal fossa and then stopped when he reached your inner thighs.

Adjusting his body; he placed both his knees in between your legs as he carefully spread them out. He noticed that the towel was now slightly lifted, him being the pervert he is right now, he tilted his head to the side to get a better look. He grinned after seeing the little pool of your juices was visible and your pussy was now clearly dripping.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, groping your clothed ass, but he made it seem like he was just using the towel to remove any other excess oil from his hands, which he partially was.

He ran a two fingers up your wet folds, making a shiver run up your spine. He was playing with the substance with is fingers for a second or two before bending over to show you his index and middle finger, dripping with your wetness. “You’re this wet? All for me? But I was barely even doing anything to you, bunny.” you were blushing like crazy, not being able to answer him verbally out of embarrassment, you just not as you looked to your side.

Gyu backed away and scoffed. He started to toy with your clit, his middle finger brushing where you needed him the most.

“Gyu, pl-please.. I need you to touch me, please, please..” you plead, breathlessly.

“Since you were asking so nicely, I’ll give you want you want, princess.” and with that, he delved his digits into your core, the movements of his fingers were; like as if he was trying to allure something inside of you.

“You like that, pretty?" he was watching your every reaction to each move he made, trying to look out for reactions like if you were enjoying what he was doing so that he could mentally take notes. If not he could stop immediately to avoid causing you any harm or discomfort.

You nod in response, your head suddenly throwing back as the pleasure that washed over you became overwhelming as it built up. Beomgyu quickens the pace not too long after seeing your reaction. Feeling the coil inside you was about to snap at any moment, your hands instinctively fly to Beomgyu's nape, your fingers tangling in his dark locks.

"Mm.. 'm gonna cum.. please l-let me cum.." you begged as you gently tugged his hair.

“Gonna cum princess? Then do it.” And so you did, making a complete mess. Beomgyu's hand was almost completely decorated with your cum as some of it was dripping from your core and some was splattered on his shirt. He slowly pulled out his digits, staring at his fingers' that glistened so prettily with the aid of the light that the lamp on the nightstand provided.

His eyes suddenly shifting to look at your fucked out expression. His member was getting so hard at the sight that it hurt. But he chose to ignore it.

With his dry hand, he gently grabs your jaw and turns your head to look at him. You watched as the digits of his other hand taps on his lips before giving it kitten like licks then basically clashing off your juices from his hand.

"Mm.. You taste amazing, Hun." he then leans over to you and kisses you, making you taste yourself as you let his tongue explore inside your mouth. You felt his member against your heat as he deepened the kiss.

You start to grind against him, trying to give him a hint that you also wanted to help him out. Pulling away from the kiss, Beomgyu stares at you, darts in his eyes pierced yours as you stared back with doe eyes.

"And what do you think you're doing, bun?"

"I want to help you.." you say with a soft, sweet tone. Beomgyu swore he bit his tongue as he felt his member twitch inside his boxers by how you stated your sentence, added with how you looked at him. It was painful but he wanted tonight to just focus on you and you only.

So he placed a hand on your hip and pressed it down so that you could stop grinding. "It's alright Hun. Let me take care of you, yeah?" You protested yet it was no use convincing, so you hesitantly nodded your head.

He kisses your forehead before he traveled back down to your lower half. He massaged your inner thighs with his thumb as his face slowly inched closer to your core.

Beomgyu then started to give your pussy some kitten like licks, taking a while before picking up the pace so that you wouldn't feel too overwhelmed at first.

The slick sounds of Beomgyu eating you out was mixed with your moans and heavy breaths that already filled the warm room. A minute or two passed, you suddenly felt the coil inside you was about to snap once more, so you tugged on Beomgyu's hair a little too tighter compared to before, making him groan against your pussy. But he didn't mind.

Your hips instinctively started whine and jerk up when his tongue swiftly hits specific parts. Beomgyu didn't like that. Your body suddenly jolted up in surprise once you felt Beomgyu's slap your ass. He snickered at your reaction as you whine, feeling the stinging sensation.

"Try to stay still, yeah?" caressing your ass, he continued to eat you out. You just hummed breathlessly in response.

You feel your orgasm was about to wash over you any second now. Beomgyu noticed just from your body language. "Go ahead and cum, Hun. Cum in my mouth." almost before he even finished his sentence you were already a millisecond ahead of him.

After you were coming down your high, Beomgyu looked at your expression from in between your legs. You looked so gorgeous. Hair; a total mess. Stray strands of your hair were stuck on your neck, forehead, cheeks and shoulders. Your labored breathing and the way your chest bounced up and down had him wanting to toy with you more. But seeing your already; too fucked up expression, he wanted you to rest for now. He just couldn't get enough of you.

He stood up and went outside your room before coming back with a towel in hand. He then started to clean you up, his other hand caressing the parts of your body where he thought he did too much. After cleaning you up, he took out some of his pajamas in his closet and dressed you up.

You were silent the whole time. It's not because you didn't like the treatment. It's because; you just didn't know what to say. You also didn't want to believe that you were so lucky to have a boyfriend like Beomgyu.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

When he laid down beside you, you immediately scooched closer to his side and hugged him like there was no tomorrow.

"Hm?" Beomgyu hummed, looking at you a little confused.

"Nothing, Gyu," you said softly as you nuzzle your face into his arm. "Thank you for everything, Gyu." you mumbled under your breath.

"It's nothing, baby." he shifts his position to now laying on his side, facing you. "You should go sleep, yeah?" he said, kissing your forehead. You nod and bury your face into his chest.

You whisper an "I love you", but it was loud enough for Beomgyu to hear. He smiled softly and hugged you tightly, a hand flying to your hair, caressing it as he says, "I love you most, my cute little honey bear." And with that; you drifted off to sweet dreams in no time with a smile on your face.

A/n: hello sweetie, if you made it all the way here I would like to thank you sososooo much for reading my work<3 if you like this please just reblog/reply and tell my your thoughts, I would appreciate that soso much<3 that's all sweetie, thank you and babye<33

#beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu fluff #beomgyu #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu smut #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt soft thoughts #txt choi beomgyu #txt smut #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt hard hours #choi beomgyu #riri's writing<33 #zurimochi

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sn4pdr4g0n · 3 years ago

Note

protective;soft dom wilbur smut?

afab and she her prns pls

“it’s like you’re dating them or something”

if you could base the plot off of that quote I would really appreciate that thank you ily /p

"It's like you're dating them or something"

Ily2 anon <3 /p

°•♡•°

Upon entering your shared apartment, you sigh quietly, looking at Wilburs tense form. "I don't get why you were so irritable for the whole night."

"You know why..." he pushes you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him and slipping off his shoes. "Can you get on the bed for me, love?"

You slip your heels off and sit in front of the pillows, arms crossed over you chest and a slight pout on your lips. "It was just a fun night out with friends. I get that Lisa can drink a little too much sometimes but it's a nightclub, it's what you're supposed to do."

"Are you also supposed be all over other men as well? It's like you're dating him!" Wilburs hands wrap around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he settles on the bed.

"I didn't mean to make you upset, Wil, but-" his lips pressed against yours softly, teeth biting gently at your bottom lip making you gasp slightly. Rough hands tugged up your dress and bunched it round your hips. You quickly get the message and start undoing his belt, pulling away from the kiss panting quietly not wanting Wilbur to know how he leaves you breathless.

"You know what to do, don't you, baby?" He teases, pressing your hands against his growing chub, "show me that you don't want anyone else, love, and I'll show you that you don't need anyone else." Hastily, you nod, spitting in your hand and slowly dragging it up and down his dick, teasing him. "My pretty princess would never tease me, would you." He grins, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.

"I wouldn't dare," you tease back, letting saliva drip from your mouth and onto his cock. Gaining pace you hear Wilbur groan above you, his hands grabbing at your wrist and pulling you off. "What was that for? I wasn't done."

"Sit back, baby, I told you that you didn't need anyone else now I'll prove it." Your panties were tugged down and tossed aside, quickly forgotten as Wilbur's fingertips traced soft circles over your clit.

"Wilbur, c'mon," you start to plead, not quite giving in yet.

"I'd you want something you have to ask for it." He chided, fingers just dance over your heat, not enough but everything at the same time.

"Please fuck me, Wil." He was quick to obey, his middle and ring finger slipping inside of you and his thumb resting on your clit, pressing against the swelling nub.

"Of course baby, since you're asking so nicely." His fingers pump in and out of you, letting your fluids drip down onto the bedsheets. His other hand kept you hips steady and keeping them from bucking up towards him.

Wilbur fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, but only for a moment as you feel something thicker lining up against your entrance.

"Can I?" He asks, tone sugary sweet.

"Please." You gasp loudly as he pushes in, the stretch aches in the best way possible and you head rolls back against the headboard.

"Eye's on me, love." His pace is steady but harsh, leaving you grasping at the bedsheets. "Remind me who you belong to."

"You, Wilbur," you whimper out, slick lewd noises filling the room in-between your loud moans.

"Only me?" The brunettes lips suck at your neck, littering bruises over your collar bones.

"You, only you, Wilbur, just you," you babble nonsensically, hands finding Wilburs hair, wrapping the curls tightly between your fingers and tugging.

"Good, you just mine, all mine and no one else's," He murmers against your skin, rhythm faltering as he gets closer to cumming. His thumb draws tight figure eights into your clit, driving you further towards the edge. "My good girl, all for me. Doing so good."

"I'm gonna cum, Wil," you groan out, rolling your hips back against his thrusts, whining louder as he pinches your nipples and gropes at your breasts.

"Cum for me, baby, cum on my cock," you let yourself fall over the cliff, riding out your orgasm as Wilbur pulls out and cums on your stomach and thighs. "No one can do this to you can they, love?"

"Only you, Wilbur."

°•♡•°

Hope this is what you wanted Anon!

#wilbur x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur smut #dsmp x reader #dsmp smut #sn4pdr4g0n writes #x reader #n$fw

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huntingingoodwill · 3 years ago

Note

i want you to write a blurb about... ⚠️ a love triangle with a character making their final choice

please include this dynamic... 🤎 royal x commoner (well, posh instead of royal perhaps lol)

with a little bit of... 🛏 only one bed

Tommy x Reader? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

you can ignore this, love you 🥰

thank you so much for sending this in 💕 incredibly cash money of you ily 💞

send me build a blurb asks :)))

masterlist

pairing: tommy x reader

“Thank you for letting me stay the night, Tommy.” You slid your fur coat off as you scanned his bedroom, a cosy refuge from the harsh cold. “You’ve a lovely home.”

“Lovely’s a generous description. Not as grand as your house, right, princess?” You rolled your eyes. He adopted the nickname for you as soon as you met, always biting it out with a slightly irritating, mocking viciousness. You took it in stride- he was just trying to get under your skin. He wouldn’t succeed that easily. “Can’t let a lady freeze on the streets. But looking at that pelt you would’ve survived.”

“I’d let you try it on if you asked politely.” You teased, folding the coat neatly over a chair.

He ignored your attempt to annoy him. “I’ll get your car fixed in the morning.” Your wretched car, breaking down on a night as cold as this, leaving only Tommy to pity you enough to take you in. He moved toward the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You aren’t sleeping here?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. Or in the betting shop-”

“You’ll catch a cold!”

He scoffed. “I’ll live.”

You felt an awful guilt as he turned away. You reached out to him, feeling his shoulder tense in surprise under your hand. “We could share the bed, couldn’t we?”

You laid your coat on the bed, the soft, warm layer of fur making it look so much more appealing. You sat on the edge, patting the space on the mattress beside you. You laid down, and he hesitated before sidling up next to you.

The two of you huddled together, and you sighed comfortably at the warmth of the bed, the warmth radiating off Tommy.

“What would that boy of yours say, if he saw us in bed together?” He mumbled.

You looked at him, confused.

His chest rumbled with laughter. “Follows you ‘round like a puppy. Saw him with you at the races.”

“Spying on me, are you?” You poked him in the side, his mouth curling into a smile. “That’ll be Stephen.” You clarified. You’d known him since childhood, your parents being business partners. He was a good man, and prompted by both your parents’ unsubtle nudges, you’d been spending more time with each other. They’d always assumed you’d marry each other, and you figured you’d do it eventually. It wouldn’t be bad. Stephen was a gentleman, good-looking, always looking out for you. He was nice, a perfectly suitable husband. Wouldn’t be too bad for business, too. You could imagine your families’ eyes glittering, thinking of your combined fortunes, everyone’s pockets growing fatter. An appealing future, you supposed. “He’s…kind.”

“And I’m not?” Tommy joked, his eyes betraying his jealousy.

“You’re kind. And I believe you’re far sweeter than you let on.” You smiled.

You were both silent for an achingly long moment.

“D’you love him?” He whispered.

The question shocked you, as if Tommy had rolled over and plunged a knife through your heart. Did you love him? You stayed silent.

“He’s good, isn’t he? Good for you, your family, business. He’ll give you everything, keep you secure. Nice boy from a respectable family. I’ll drive you home tomorrow and he’ll be there. Give you a line about being worried sick. Make you tea.” He mused. You frowned, puzzled. “You his woman?” He asked.

You shook your head as his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. He paused, fingers drumming across his chest. Fearless, cocky Tommy, nervous.

“Good.” He swallowed. “Kills me seeing you with him.”

“Why?” You muttered. You struggled to keep up with his train of thought, failing to understand why he was bringing all this up.

“Don’t go with him, alright? Stay.” You stared at him, speechless. His calm, steady voice was tinged with an almost imperceptible desperation, brow creasing. “I can’t give you everything he can. I’m not… good. Like he is. But I’ll love you, yeah? Take care of you. Work for… us. Girl like you deserves security, the big fuckin’ house, a proper bed.” He chuckled. “I’ll give it to you. Just let it be me. Not him. Say it’ll be me.” He finally turned to look at you, and his eyes were different, softer, filled with promise, the lamp behind him casting a golden halo around him.

You remained completely still for a second, processing what he just told you. Slowly, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“It’s you.”

He sighed, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “This bed’s never been warmer.”

#build a blurb asks #asks #moots #lily <3 #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurbs #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #buildablurbaskgame

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darkmulti · 3 years ago

Note

Hiiii Naina! I really like your blog and I appreciate that you are giving content to us thirsty armys, lol... so was wondering if you could do a hc with yah!tae being a ceo who is head over heels for slut/prositute reader? Like I’m not sure how I want the plot to be but it’s your wish... and ily 🤟 💜

⚠️: YANDERE!TAEHYUNG, PROSTITUTE!READER, spanking, rough sex, marking, possessive sex, hair pulling, daddy kink

-> ilyt 😘

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Fuck! I’m close!” Taehyung growled, spanking your ass once more while pulling your hair harder

“D- Daddy close! So close, don’t stop!” You moaned, eyes rolling back because of the great amount of pleasure you were feeling

He pushed in deep inside you and covered your walls with thick ropes of cum

You collapsed on the bed, shivering from all the pleasure you just received

Taehyung hovered over your figure again and kissed the top of your head

“Do you mind if I crash here tonight? I’ll pay extra.”

You flipped onto your back, still breathing heavily

“I’m sorry, Tae. Not today, I have a client coming in at 10.”

Taehyung’s blood boils thinking about another man coming here and fucking you

It bothered him so much but he didn’t know what to do about

It wasn’t any of his business and he was scared that you didn’t share the same feelings as him

He got up and left without saying goodbye which was unusual

Usually, Taehyung’s a lot nicer but you assumed that he was upset because he couldn’t stay the night

Nonetheless, your other client came at 10 and you did the samething with him all night long

The next morning, you woke up and your client was long gone

You put on your robe and head to the kitchen for some breakfast, only to find out that you have little to no food in your fridge

You decided to clean up your apartment and room, before cleaning up yourself and heading to the grocery store to pick up some food

While you were throwing some pancake mix in the cart, your phone started ringing and you saw that it was Taehyung

“Hello? Taehyung?”

“Hi angel, how are you?”

“I’m good, just doing some grocery shopping. Is there a particular reason why you called me?”

“Ah, yes there is. Would you be able to book me in for today. I wanna be your last client.”

“I’m sorry, Tae, but my last client is coming at 11.”

“Then I’ll come at 12. Be ready.”

“Wait- No!” Taehyung immediately hung up the phone, ignoring the fact that you were “busy” during that time

You tried calling him multiple times throughout the day to tell him you can’t but he never answer the phone

Finally 11 rolls around and your client shows up a little late, but you still end up having sex

This particular client wasn’t exactly in a good mood however which resulted in aggressive sex

You didn’t mind it, but this man was fucking you good enough that you were shaking

It didn’t take him much time to ruin you

11:48 he finishes up and leaves you with your fingers shaking in pleasure

You were exhausted and wanted to go to bed but at exactly 12am, the door bell rang and you knew exactly who it was

You were gonna turn Taehyung away because you were sore but once you opened the door, he didn’t even let you speak

He immediately started kissing you then picked you up and took you to your room

He threw you onto the bed and ripped his shirt off

“Do you have any idea who you just fucked?”

“What?”

“Answer me, Y/N! Do you know his name?!”

“You mean… Jimin?”

Taehyung chuckles mockingly before grabbing your neck and squeezing it

“That fucker is my main competitor and here you are opening your fucking legs for him. Don’t you know that man is engaged? Don’t you feel ashamed fucking a man who’s taken?”

Your eyes widen and you jaw drops

“I- I didn’t know! I didn’t know he was your main competitor, he just-”

“Save it.” He cuts you off and rips your robe off

He plunges three fingers in you and scoops out the cum left behind by Jimin

“Disgusting whore. Having an engaged man’s cum deep in your womb.”

Taehyung took his under off and nailed into you with no mercy

You were still very sore so a couple of tears escaped as he started fucking you right away

Your legs were pressed against your chest as he had full access to your hole

“Let me show you that I can fuck you a lot better than he can. This little hole of yours will be aching for my cock every night.”

Taehyung continued fucking you while marking your breast and chest even though you had a strict no hickey rule because a lot of your clients didn’t like seeing hickies on your body

Taehyung massaged your breast while his hips smacked into you at a fast pace

Your breathing became heavier and sweat was glistening on your forehead

The bed was shaking fast and the skin slapping continued to get louder and louder

Suddenly, his tip pushed against your cervix a little too hard causing you to go over the edge

You hissed in pain and released on his cock

Taehyung leaned down and gave you a rough kiss, full of saliva

“Tomorrow, you’re gonna cancel all your “appointments” with your clients and move in with me.”

“No, but-”

“You don’t get a choice.”

#taehyung smut #yandere taehyung #bts smut #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere bts smut

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy's Little Girl

Request 10: Dad!Schlatt angst with the reader trying to protect Tubbo because the reader is his older sibling?

Requested By: Anonymous

TW: Abuse

Do you want angst? I’ll give you angst. Never challenge me again. /J

ily /p

(Hints of Wilbur and Techno x reader if you squint)

Growing up with Schlatt as your father had its ups and downs, on one hand, he was hilarious and let you get away with anything you wanted, but on the other hand, he had a drinking problem. When you were a little girl his drinking wasn’t too bad, some days were worse than others but most of the time he was semi cognizant. However, when your baby brother Tubbo came along everything changed, for a while he was sober. He was clear-headed, held a stable job on the SMP, and even helped you with your homework, but alas all good things come to an end. As soon as Tubbo started school, and your mom left he started up again, you weren’t happy. Your horns had begun to curl around your head around that time and your baby brother was enamored. He would wrap his chubby hands around them to pull and trace his fingers over the ridges, Tubbo would declare his horns were going to be just as magnificent as yours one day. You would flush at the praise and ruffle his hair, and told him you could already feel his little nubs growing in, he was overjoyed at the news.

Before Tubbo, Schlatt would never lay a hand on anyone, but something inside him crumbled. You had a few close calls, Tubbo bothering your father a little too much and Schlatt raised a hand to the boy. Luckily, you were always there to diffuse the situation and direct your father’s attention away from your baby brother. You were old enough to know just how impulsive and uncaring drinking made him, you tried to keep Tubbo as occupied as you could while keeping up with your work.

When Tubbo was ten years old he made his first friend.

Tubbo told you the kid’s name was Tommy, and he shared all the new information about his friend. He informed you he had two older brothers named Wilbur and Technoblade, who were about a year or two older than you. Tubbo desperately wanted to introduce you to him, but with your dad to keep an eye on you had to decline, at least for the time being. Tubbo pouted at your response and gave you, your biggest weakness puppy dog eyes, you relented. Promising to go with Tubbo to Tommy’s house in a few days to meet the brothers and supervise his play date with Tommy.

You just hoped your dad would be alright.

The day finally rolled around for you to meet the elusive Tommy and his brothers, you informed your dad that you and Tubbo would be gone for the rest of the day, he said it was alright. You think he just wanted to excuse to drink more while both of his children were gone.

“Come on (Y/n), let’s go already!” Tubbo called with a groan, you hushed him softly,

“Put your jacket on first.”

He reluctantly slipped on his jacket and grabbed his bag, you followed him out the door. Tubbo was buzzing with excitement holding his bee plush close to his chest, going on and on about how great Tommy was and how much he hoped you’d like Wilbur and Techno. Eventually, the both of you came upon a small cabin in the middle of a clearing, it was surrounded by lush pine trees and a little boy in a red and white shirt stood by the front gate.

“Tubbo!” The boy you assumed was Tommy shouted rushing over to the gate,

“Tommy!” Tubbo shouted with a laugh, he looked like he wanted to run towards him but first, he looked up at you. You smiled softly and gave your brother a nod, his face lit up and he charged towards Tommy. They met in the middle and Tommy immediately tackled Tubbo to the ground, a young man with glasses opened the window and began to shout at the blonde. He picked his head up and spotted you in the distance, his entire face flushed red, you sent him a little wave. The boy adjusted his glasses slamming the window shut, you titled your head to the side before seeing him and a taller boy with pink hair. While Tommy and Tubbo wrestled in the dirt the older boys walked up to you, they introduced themselves as Wilbur and Technoblade. They both were hybrids like yourself, you immediately felt at home, no wonder Tubbo liked it here so much.

Through the power of conversation you found out Technoblade was a piglin hybrid and Wilbur was half nymph, Tommy was just a plain human. Either their dad got around or some of them were adopted, you’d ask Tubbo later, figuring it was rude to blatantly ask that question. You found out the entire family thrived off of bulling one another it was quite funny to watch Technoblade roast the ever-loving shit out of Wilbur, unknown to you whenever you let a giggle or two slip past your lips Wilbur would flush and Technoblade would smirk. The end of the playdate rolled around and you found yourself not wanting to leave your new friends, Wilbur offered for you and Tubbo to sleep over but you politely declined. Technoblade shot Wilbur a concerned look when with a smile you said your dad would have your ass if you and Tubbo stayed over.

A few years went by since your first meeting, Tubbo and Tommy became inseparable and honestly, you and his brothers were in the same situation. Although you couldn’t see Technoblade and Wilbur as much as Tubbo could see Tommy the three of you were attached at the hip. Wilbur would constantly write you letters, sometimes the handwriting would switch and you noticed Techno put his blunt opinions into the conversation. Tubbo found one of the letters once and insisted that both boys must have a crush on you, you denied that with a soft laugh, just like your father you were under the impression you were unlovable.

Speaking of your dad, he was rarely ever sober at this point, rather being numb than feeling anything significant. Luckily he could be slightly functional, but mostly it was you raising Tubbo and protecting him from your dad’s off days. Speaking of an off day you had just gotten back from a trip of visiting your favorite boys, it was late and Tubbo was asleep in your arms. He was scratched up a bandaid was on his nose, and a bandage wrapped around his arm, he had taken a particularly nasty fall while wrestling with Tommy. Luckily both you and Wilbur were skilled in patching up rambunctious little brothers and he was fixed up in no time flat. You noticed the light on in the living room and grew concerned, your dad was always passed out in his bed by this time of night, was he alright?

Tubbo mumbled something in your arms and you pulled him close to your chest as to not wake the boy. “Dad?” You called softly wandering into the living room, much to your surprise he was very much awake. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure he reeked of whiskey and cigarettes, so tonight was a bad night.

Noted.

“You reek.” You commented adjusting the sleeping Tubbo in your arms, your father shot you a dirty look.

“Where the fuck have you been with the brat?” He hissed baring his teeth at you, “Do you know how late it is? Do you know how worried I was!” You hated the way your stomach churned with guilt and relief, at least he noticed his children were gone. He shouldn’t be praised for the bare minimum, Technoblade would’ve told you gruffly if he knew the full extent of your relationship.

“Out with Tommy, Wilbur, and Technoblade. Phil’s kids remember?” You responded with a soft sigh and he sent a dirty look your way standing up from his recliner. You backed up a few steps, the man towering over you eyeing Tubbo who was beginning to stir in your arms. Hesitantly you placed a hand over the back of his head, keeping it pressed tightly against your neck and shoulder. It only seemed to make Schlatt’s face scrunch up more,

“He looks so much like your mother.”

“I know dad.”

“Why’s he beat to shit?” He slurred reaching his hands out towards Tubbo, “You let him get hurt?”

“Tommy and he were just wrestling. Just being kids. I patched him up, he’s just sleepy.”

“So you let him get beat?”

“Dad no did you not hear me-” He grabbed one of your horns roughly yanking them down. You yelped in pain dropping Tubbo in the process, he hit the ground with a hard thud crying out from the rude awakening. “Dad you’re hurting me-”

“(Y/n)? Dad?” He murmured groggily barely processing the situation unfolding in front of him.

“Tubbo go to your room.” Your dad hissed at him, spit flying everywhere, Tubbo looked terrified. He looked at you and nodded the best you could with your dad’s iron-like grip on your horn, he scurried away and you felt your eyes fill with tears. If only he was a little older, he’d maybe be able to help you, but he was a child and didn’t need to see what was going to happen. “You’ve been running around without a care in the world, you’ve been going free for way too long. You’ve been a bad girl and now your getting punished.” Your blood turned to ice as the gip on your horn tightened,

“Dad, please I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure we get home on time from now on, you’re drunk. Please don’t do this you’ll regret it come the morning.”

“Shut the fuck up (Y/n)!” He spat his tobacco spit flying all over your face, you grimaced trying not to choke in disgust. “You think you know everything about the world but you don’t, you’re a stupid naive child!” He slammed the side of your head against the brick wall of your house. You yelped in pain feeling something crack against the wall, but it wasn’t your skull, it was your right horn.

“Dad- Dad please stop my horn-” You pleaded as he dragged you back by the hair and slammed you into the wall again. Your horn cracked once more and you screamed in pure agony, blood began to stain the wall where your head it, and your horn began to crack. “DAD!” You sobbed out as your horn broke off falling on the ground with a thud. Blood began to drip down the side of your head, your sobbing seemed to snap Schlatt back to his senses as he let out a soft call of your name.

“Fuck. Fuck baby I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked pulling you into his chest, he pressed his hands against the stub of your horn. You whimpered in pain and Schlatt shushed you softly, “I’m so sorry baby girl. My little girl, I didn’t mean it.” His head pressed into the crook of your neck, just where Tubbo’s was moments prior. “I’m such a fuck up. I’d never hurt you...I can’t do this…”

“It’s okay…” Your voice cracked eyes wide and glassy, it wasn’t okay but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Can I go to bed now…”

“Lemme patch you up first. You might bleed out...scare Tubs.” Schlatt grumbled and you nodded numbly. He helped you to your feet and you swayed, your dad haphazardly bandaged the side of your head and cauterized your horn. That might’ve hurt even more than losing the horn on its own, you held back your whimpers as your dad apologized even more for the pain he caused. “Get some rest alright…I love you.”

“Love you to dad,” You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, you waited until he slipped into his room before you made your way into Tubbo’s. The boy was downright sobbing under his blankets, you pulled back the covers to find him desperately clinging to his bee plush.

“(Y/n)?” He whimpered looking up at you with wide eyes,

“Hey, Tubs…” Your smile was tense and he frowned, “Mr. Bumbles protect you okay? Just like we talked about?” Tubbo nodded lip trembling, he reached his hand up to touch your bandages. You flinched at his touch,

“Where’s your horn.”

“Unimportant. Just got into a little scuffle with dad, nothing your big sister can’t handle. Tubbo why don’t we go see Mr. Phil.”

“But it’s so late?”

“It’s okay. Go pack up a bag, you’ll be there for a while.”

“What about you?”

You sent him another tight-lipped smile, “I can’t stay there with you, unfortunately.”

“Then I don’t want to go!” He huffed defensively, your smile was wiped off your face.

“Not a suggestion-”

“NO! I’m not leaving you!” You grunted feeling him slam into your middle wrapping you in a tight hug. “Not with him...I need you. Who’s gonna protect me? Or read me bedtime stories? Or kiss me goodnight!” He began to cry through his protests and you knelt in front of him, you placed your hand on his cheek.

“Technoblade and Phil can protect you just fine. Wilbur would love to read you and Tommy’s bedtime stories. You’re too old for goodnight kisses-”

“Am not!”

“I can’t protect you anymore, not from dad.” Your voice shook a little before swallowing thickly, Tubbo’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. He’s never seen you look so scared, you were serious. “You deserve to grow up normally and happily, with a good dad and family.”

“You're good family.” Tubbo insisted grabbing your bigger hand with his own, you let out a wet laugh and held your other hand to your mouth. Swallowing again before responding to Tubbo’s heartfelt compliment,

“I’ll always be your family and I’ll always be your big sister. But for now, you’ll temporarily be part of Tommy’s family. Just until I’m old enough to take you away from all of this.”

“Promise?” He held out his pinky,

“Promise.” You responded interlocking your pinky with his own, he seemed much more satisfied and willing to listen to you now. “Now go pack up alright? We gotta go before the morning,” Tubbo nodded at you and began to gather his things in his bag. Eventually, he was all packed up and you both snuck out towards Tommy’s home, the side of your head was throbbing and you felt completely off balance stumbling over your feet a few times. Tubbo grew concerned but never actually voiced said concern, the two of you came up on Phil’s doorstep. You loudly began to knock at the door and Technoblade answered sword drawn, glasses were haphazardly thrown on his nose,

“(Y/n)? Tubbo?” He blinked blearily, “it’s like three am what-” Adjusting the glasses he finally got a good look at the both of you, Tubbo was still in his footie pajamas and you had officially bled through your bandages. “Who did it.”

“Technoblade please-”

“Who. Hurt. You.”

“I’m so tired, please just go get your dad.” You pleaded locking your eyes with his own, they softened considerably before muttering under his breath.

“Fine. But I’m getting Wilbur to look at your horn.” He demanded marching away from the door, you gently urged Tubbo inside and you both sat down on their couch. Tubbo yawned sleepily and leaned against your side,

“You can go to sleep. You’re safe now Bumblebee.”

“But you’ll be gone when I wake up…” He held Mr. Bumble closer to his chest and you brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I want you to have Mr. Bumble!” Tubbo held the toy out to you, your lips dipped into a little frown.

“Tubs he’s your favorite-

“He protected me from dad. So I’m sure he’ll protect you too.” You wanted to sob as you took the bee from his hands, you were going to say something else when Phil and Wilbur walked into the room. Phil gave you a pitying smile, before calling Tubbo over to him.

“Hey mate. Let’s get you settled into the guest room for now yeah?” The older man smiled at your brother and he nodded sleepily walking over to Phil. He gave you a look that said we’ll talk later as Wilbur walked over to you, the frown on his face was rock solid.

“You gonna explain yourself?” He scolded you like a parental figure would, you bit your lip and shook your head. Wilbur sighed the bags under his eyes were dark and you murmured a soft apology. He reached out and took your cheek in his palm, he leaned close and you felt his breath on his lips. You felt your cheeks turn pink and he leaned in...to take a better look at your horn.

God, you were so stupid why did you think he was going to kiss you just now?

“Jesus Christ…” He murmured as he unwrapped your wound gently. “They fucked you up honey,” Wilbur said softly, his voice dripping with pure concern, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m alright...It’ll get better.” You smiled a tight-lipped smile that only caused Wilbur’s eyes to flash with pure rage, “Seriously Will. Please just let it go.”

“I’ll never understand you.” He muttered grumpily, much like his brother did when he greeted you at the door. “How can you not want justice for what they did to you? I don’t understand-” Wilbur blinked a few moments pulling away from you, you refused to meet his eyes. “-Did your dad do this to you?” He saw the fear spark in your eyes, “that fucking piece of shit! TECHNO!”

“Wilbur please no- no please he didn’t mean too he was drunk!” You slapped your hands over your mouth and he looked at you with horror. “Wilbur please don’t do anything he didn’t mean to do it, I have to look out for him!” Your breathing got short and rapid, immediately Wilbur felt bad for being so aggressive, “He’ll die without me.”

“It’s not your job to look after your father.” Wilbur looked at you with pity,

“Yes, it is. He’s my family.”

“Family doesn’t do this to you.” He motioned to your missing horn, the motion now made you feel wildly self-conscious, “they don’t hurt you.” You bit the bottom of your lip so hard it began to bleed,

“Just don’t tell Technoblade. He’ll kill him. You know he will, I don’t want that.” Wilbur didn’t look happy about the situation but he agreed reluctantly, but only if you stayed the night alongside Tubbo. You told him you would,

But you’re a liar.

Phil came back into the room a little later and asked to talk to you privately. He asked you what was going on and you explained the entire situation to him, practically pleading for him to take your baby brother in while you got Schlatt under control. Phil of course agreed, but he was not happy about you going back to your dad, especially since you were already injured. You assured him all would be okay, your dad meant well and with Tubbo out of the house, you can put all your energy into fixing him.

Phil let you go that night, and he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

No one in the Minecraft household heard from you again after that night. You seemed to slip out of everyone's memory, Wilbur met Sally and she and his son consumed his life. Technoblade moved out of the house to spread his wings, and the only person who even seemed to care that you were missing was Tubbo. Yet, even so, you began to slip out of his memory too, barely remembering your face. It broke him to pieces that he couldn’t remember his sister, and when he asked Wilbur about you the man's memory was just as fuzzy. The only thing he had was the letters the both of you sent back and forth to one another, he’d gifted them to Tubbo after he discovered them again under his childhood bed. Tubbo thought that maybe, just maybe, word of their new nation would cause you to come out of hiding.

It didn’t.

Eventually, he had to leave his memory of you behind and focus on helping Tommy and Wilbur. He hoped wherever you were you were proud of him, you wouldn’t want him to be miserable and dwell on you, you’d want him to live.

When he saw his father upon the podium the day of the election all he wanted to do was confront him about you, but there were other things to worry about like the fact that Wilbur and Tommy had just gotten exiled. Schlatt died before he got to ask about you, then right after that Wilbur died by Phil’s hand and everything was blown to shit, he had Tommy and that was all he needed.

Wilbur woke up to the soft chirping of birds and an angel sitting on a hillside. He couldn’t feel the grass under his palms or his heartbeat, but he felt something warm flood through him when he saw the angel. She turned towards him, his memory of her was fuzzy but her name wasn’t, “(Y/n)?”

“Hi Wilby, long time no see.” You smiled softly, both horns were missing but your soft ears twitched eagerly.

“Where...are we?” Wilbur whispered walking over to you to sit by your side, “What happened to you?”

“I lost another horn being stupid. Died from an infection while dad was away on a trip.” You pulled your legs close towards your chest, “you’re dead Will. We’re dead. It’s been quiet here for so long.”

“Dead…” He breathed out the negative memories flooding into his brain; he squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Are we ghosts?” You shrugged your shoulders,

“I don’t know, never tried to...go back,” Wilbur watched as you ran your hand through the grass even though Wilbur knew you couldn’t feel it. “Tubbo would be disappointed in me. So upset I died, I’d rather he not know. Makes it easier on everyone I think.” You turned to him, hair falling in your eyes, they were empty and your skin was so pale, he couldn’t imagine what he looked like in comparison. “Are you going to go back?” You spoke again after a few moments of silence, there was a tense atmosphere that filled the room, you didn’t want to be lonely.

“If you’re here, that’s where I’m going to stay. At least for a little while.” Wilbur looked at you, your eyes wide with shock, a brilliant smile spread across your cheeks.

“Promise?”

“With all my heart honey.”

#dadschlatt x reader #platonic schlatt x reader #platonic tubbo x reader #brother tubbo x sister reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #platonic dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x you #abuse #fanfiction #fanfic #trigger warning: abuse #angst

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

haikyuu!! boys with a s/o that becomes clingy/affectionate while drunk

characters: kyōtani, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa and bokuto

thank you anon for this marvellous request mwah

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

tw// drinking, suggestive themes, sexual references, swearing

Kentarō Kyōtani

kyōtani was used to having a cool, laid-back s/o who was just as awkward about physical touch as he was

i mean, that’s kinda a part of the reason he liked you so much - so y’all could get over your awkwardness together

so imagine his surprise when his usually level-headed, calm s/o came stumbling out of the club, a blubbering mess and threw themselves into his arms, wailing something about a maths test

THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS THAT FLOODED HIS MIND IN THAT ONE MOMENT OMFG ADFGHJKL

he was like ‘omg why are they touching me? i kinda like it- wait are they crying? tf? i ain’t ever seen them cry before- should i help them? lord everyone is looking at us now. so what the fuck do i do- AYE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE’

so he had no choice but to dip with you flung over his shoulder lol

he took you back to your shared apartment and forced you to drink some water and instead of ordering a take-out, he just gave you his leftover burrito which he took to the club smh

it was probably cold

but that was the best he could think of at the time bc he simply needed to shut you up with food bc the alcohol in your system was causing you to become especially touchy, hence resulting in kyōtani getting especially aroused

but the last thing he’d do is fuck you while you’re drunk and i firmly believe that despite the fact kyōtani is a bit of a lout - he still has like a basic moral compass

but i mean if you kept being so damn suggestive then it was gonna be a lot harder for him to resist his urges

you were rubbing him up and shit, calling him every pet name in the book so ofc he just stuck a burrito in your mouth and went ‘stfu 😡’

the painful part was that he was silently enjoying it too (┬┬﹏┬┬)

(though, he was red from blushing lol, not anger)

and he wasn’t used to it either so obviously he was gonna get flustered, i mean, everything was happening all at once

oh and you told him ‘i love you’ and he literally combusted like lord have mercy on this man

just that morning you were calling him your ‘annoying rat boyfriend’ (jokingly, ofc) and now you love him?-

that wasn’t the first time you told him that you loved him but he was still blushing none the less

and he stammered out a ‘love you too’ PRAYING that you wouldn’t remember any of this the following day

anyway, he cuddled you to sleep and railed you as soon as you sobered up - the end ❤

Kenma Kozume

pov: you’re kenma happily being a wallflower in the club then your s/o approaches you, demanding for you to fuck them

- ok, end of POV -

anyway, your speech was slurred so kenma wasn’t really sure if that was what you were asking him to do but if it was, he would’ve happily obliged if it wasn’t for the fact you were clearly drunk

mans was blushing though

bc y’all hardly ever do it but now - all of a sudden - you were tightly wrapped around him, garbling erotic threats into his ear

kenma was worried at first but you were like..really weak

so it wasn’t hard to get you off his torso, usher you out of the club and grip your hand as he ordered a taxi

also kenma had read enough wattpad fanfictions to know how to deal with someone while they’re drunk

but none of those fanfictions ever mentioned a single thing about how to deal with yourself while your partner is drunk

like seriously..he was in pain

both from the throbbing erection he had and the aching embarrassment he felt - both stemming from the fact you tried to give him a lap dance in taxi ✋ please oml

anyway, he took you back to his apartment and insisted that you have a few slices of the left-over pizza in the fridge along with a glass of water

after you changed into your pyjamas, you had clearly sobered up slightly as you could now compose coherent sentences

but that wasn’t any better for him bc now you were draped over him, whimpering into his ear about how much you love him

‘i’m so lucky to have you, kenma. i love you so much. you remind me of my first cat - you’re such a cat- i mean, blessing..you’re such a blessing.’

ngl, at that point he would be at a loss for words, just deciding to hug you until you fall asleep

like he finds it so cute that you’re finally opening up to him about how you feel as you’re usually quite composed and restrained

but also- what does he do now?

you eventually fell asleep in his arms and the next day, you woke up to kenma having made breakfast and telling you how much he adores you which was..confusing, to say the least

he told you about how you acted when you were drunk and to say you were embarrassed would be an understatement

also, he’ll tease you about it for the rest of your life ;)

Hajime Iwaizumi

literally all you had to do was send him a text like ‘iwa...,,.,...ily so mycj ❤’’ and he’s already waiting in the line to get into the club lol

he marches in there, finds you, grabs your hand and drags you home

let’s hope that your friends know what iwaizumi looks like so they don’t have to just watch a random guy haul you out the club-

and tries to act all like angry iwaizumi >:( but when you are trailing behind him, muttering about how amazing he is, he becomes more like angy iwa grrr (* ￣︿￣)

by that, i mean that angry iwaizumi would bring you home and lecture on how irresponsible it is to get so intoxicated

but angy iwa just takes care of you but with a disapproving scowl

and angry iwaizumi would make nasty, bitchy remarks about how inappropriate your outfit is

while angy iwa would be like ‘babe, your outfit is lovely but maybe wear something different next time, idk....’

either way, he takes good care of you

he makes sure you eat (and he cooks good food btw - he doesn’t make you eat leftovers lmao)

he lets you change into more comfortable clothes

he ensures that you don’t die in the shower

and he forces you to go to bed

but all of that is rather difficult when you’re clinging to him like your life depends on it, raving on about how sweet of a boyfriend he is and covering his face sloppy kisses

his original plan was to go train some more in his gym (yes, there is a gym in y’alls house-) but when you were peppering his cheek in kisses, begging him to stay with you for whatever reason, of course he didn’t have the balls to leave

so he ended up laying like a log in bed as you cuddled up to him like koala, resting your head in his chest and allowing him to run his hand through your hair as you slept

in that moment - as he stared down at your tranquil figure - he realised how grateful he was for moments like these, as he finally got see a side of you that he knew you’d almost never exhibit when you’re sober

like yeah, you often tell him how much you love him but he can always tell that it’s as if you’re setting aside your pride to say such a thing but now, you’re gushing on about it with the most genuine look in your eyes, he can tell that you’re being completely sincere

and to say that he adores it would be an understatement

so yeah, you were kind of a pain while drunk but you were also the most adorable thing that iwaizumi had ever laid his eyes on (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Issei Matsukawa

ok so the only reason matsukawa wasn’t getting drunk with you was bc the first time y’all got drunk together he got fined for public indecency and you got done for public intoxication

so you decided that it was best (for your wallets) if you took turns getting tipsy

emphasis on ‘tipsy’ bc you both went to the bar together (along with a few friends) and you promised matsukawa that you’d only have a few drinks

so please explain to him why he is now having to carry you bridal style out of the bar because you are too hammered to walk properly

and he was kinda grumpy bc he had to leave his friends mid-conversation bc not only were you pestering him but also, the erotic things you were whispering in his ear caused him to get a boner

and he was getting weird looks from people as he carried you home but that was the least of his problems tbh- he didn’t even notice lol

the biggest issue on his mind rn was the fact that you made him hard yet you can’t help him bc you’re drunk smh

like he was tempted at first bc you seemed down to do it but he quickly came back to reality and realised how morally incorrect that’d be

so he was mumbling curses the whole way home just to tune you out bc if he paid any more attention to the racy promises you were muttering in his ear- he’d explode

he’s alright at taking care of you like he isn’t iwaizumi’s level of caring but he’s a close second, i mean he’s gotten drunk plenty of times so he knows the basics

he was like ‘drink water idk lol ’

anyway, once he handled himself he wasn’t too fazed by your lustful advances

and he was so smug about it too deadass like ‘keep talkin’ me up, (y/n), you ain’t getting shit until you’re sober.’

smh ANYWAY he thinks you’re so charming when you’re like lovey-dovey drunk but SO annoying when you’re horny drunk bc like- he can’t get some (T_T)

Kōtarō Bokuto

best for last 👌

ok anyway he’s an athlete and he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time- he’s forever drunk tbh- drunk on life :)

so while you’re getting hammered with your pals, he’s doing stupid shit while sober lol

once you both rendezvous outside the club to head home and you’re absolutely steamin- he’s just like ‘hi, babe! how’s your night been?’

SO OBLIVIOUS OML

anyway, he drives back to y’alls house and since you’re fatigued at first, you spent 90% of the car ride sleeping

but when you get home, more awake, you’re all up on him

but you’re not like sensual drunk- more like..emotional drunk but with love 🥺

so basically you are sobbing into his chest about whatever and bc he is an such empath he will start crying too, or at least get a bit emotional

you could say something like, ‘omg, bo. i hardly get to see you because you’re at work so often- i wish i could spend more time with you. i miss you so much’ ╯︿╰

and he would deadass reply whole-heartedly while weeping into your shoulder, ‘I’M QUITTING VOLLEYBALL, (Y/N)!!’

(ok, so maybe he was a bit tipsy too- but like..definitely not has drunk as you)

he has no idea where to start when it comes to taking care of you but he tries (´◡` ‘)

at the very least, he ensures that you don’t having any more alcohol and that you don’t die somehow

he’s v overprotective though

you could be getting a fork to eat your instant-noodles with and he’ll be like

‘apologies ✋ but i cannot allow you to handle such a dangerous weapon while intoxicated. maybe eat with a spoon instead, idk.’ /h

other than that, he just cuddles you to sleep and deals with you in your badly hungover state the next day

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