#i have the impression it might owe something to
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in the name of science!!
viktor and jinx are friends and are completing a science project together... although it turns into a gossip session (courtesy of jinx)
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"So... are we gonna talk about it?" Jinx leans back in her swivel chair, almost threatening to tip it over and for a second Viktor considers tipping it over himself because of course Jinx mentions it. She never did have any clue what 'personal space' was, or maybe she did and just preferred bothering him. Honestly it could really go either way for her, and for him. The pestering was rather mutual.
He sets down his wrench and pushes the metal object that was previously in his hands aside. They were trying to make an energy generation machine, something that involved the physics of perpetual motion to create energy more easily, but apparently that is going to have to wait.
"Talk about what?" Viktor tilts his head as he turns it to look at her, mocking confusion. Maybe she doesn't even remember, well he could hope at least.
Jinx scoffs, blowing a tuft of blue hair out from her face. "The whole 'Viktor, you're my best friend!' 'Oh, how I couldn't do this without you!' 'I love you so dearly' 'Nothing in the entire world can ever compare to your genius!' " she mocked in a (rather bad) Jayce impression.
"That wasn't a very good impression," Viktor points out. If she's gonna be like this then might as well return the favor
"Pfft- alright-"
"You just vaguely lowered your voice,"
"Alright-"
"I think Vi does it better,"
Jinx got up from her chair and pushed Viktor almost out of his but he caught himself (on his bad leg, whether or not that was on purpose though is a mystery to him).
"Alright, that's enough. We're talking about Jayce here, not my impression of him-"
"Of course not, I could hardly even tell that it was him in the first place-"
"I'm going to push you out of your chair Vik,"
Viktor smiles at her innocently and looks back to their device, touching it as if he were examining it but not actually doing so. He knew what she was talking about. Jinx was convinced he and Jayce had something... a little more friendly going on, to put it into words. Something that he knew not to be true, and something he didn't like entertaining because he knew it not to be so.
"There's nothing to talk about,"
"Really? You could just stand in a dark corner and he'd find a way to praise you for it," Jinx crosses her arms, looking down on him. Viktor opens his mouth to respond before shutting it, he knows that it's the truth because he's practically done it before, giving a speech and then afterwards telling Viktor how helpful it was to have him there as support.
He did nothing the entire time, just watched.
"See! You're not even arguing!"
"Jinx this is due tomorrow we have to get this done-"
"Eh, I'll finish it later," she shrugs it off without a second thought -- typical -- and instead sits on the floor looking up at him smugly. "Anyways let's focus on the main point," she emphasizes.
"There is nothing between us-"
"And my name's Powder," Jinx hisses in retaliation.
Viktor looks at her and narrows his eyes. He might regret what he's going to say next but fuck it. It's nothing that she's not used to by this point.
"Technically it is-" he barely finishes his words before he's tugged down to the floor aggressively with no concern about his leg at all and jinx pointing one of her brightly colored nails in his face.
"Watch it legs,"
Viktor scoffs at the remark. Nothing they haven't said to each other before. She lets him go and he adjusts his seating to something more comfortable.
"You owe me now. Spill, do you find Mr. Golden Boy attractive, and if so why the hell are your standards so low?" It sounds more like a statement than anything. "Because he's attracted to you and at this point I'm gonna start making bets about when the two of you are gonna end up together-"
"That's never going to happen," Viktor says, a little too quickly, but he sees Jinx's confused face and decides that he should give her an answer. "I'm pretty sure that he likes Mel,"
"Mel!?" Jinx half shouts, there's a look in her eyes that makes Viktor regret everything. He just hopes that Mel can survive the constant teasing from Jinx, then again, she is strong. "The one in the debate club? The one on the student council?" She scoffs and this time flicks her hair out of her face. "She is way out of his league,"
Viktor looks at her in disbelief before-- wait.
"Did you just imply that Iâm easy?â Viktor stares at her before Jinx shakes her head.
âI just asked you why your standards were so low earlier idiot,â She leans on her hands, placing them behind her back. âI- quit changing the subject!â She hissed leaning forward and slamming her hands down on the floor dramatically.
Viktor sighs and looks away trying to find an excuse when one came to him (and rather conveniently), his phone rang. He picked it up seeing Jayceâs contact, something that Jinx sensed and instantly began trying to grab the phone afterwards. Luckily though he picked up before she could hang up and continue their little session or whatever that was.
âViktor! Iâm so glad that you picked up! I was wondering if you could meet up right now possibly, I have this really cool new idea and I kinda need your help with it,â Jayce spits out rather quickly.
Viktor looks over to Jinx whoâs looking over to their project (which she stopped doing) as if it was a reason to get him to stay with her. Itâs safe to say that he wasnât convinced.
âYeah, Iâll be right over,â
âYes! Thank you Viktor,â
âOf course, just send me the address,â Viktor hangs up, getting a rather annoyed look from Jinx. âWhat? He needs my help.â Viktor shrugs as if he wasnât looking for an excuse to avoid their earlier conversation.
âUh uh, whatever, Iâm finishing it I guess?â she asks, pointing over to it. Viktor nods rushing out the door.
âThanks!â He calls out.
âNo problem, just tell me if anything spicy happens-â
âNevermind,â
He hears her laughter on the way out the door.
#viktor and jinx#jinx and viktor#arcane#jinx#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#powder#viktor arcane#jayce x viktor#viktor league of legends#viktor lol#jayvik#writing snippet#eternal writes
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KAOS (2024): Oddball black comedy revisionist fantasy, tonally reminiscent of the AMC PREACHER adaptation (albeit minus the gore), about the Greek gods ruling over an alternate modern-day version of the Greek isles. It's narrated by Prometheus (Stephen Dillane), still chained to a rock with an eagle picking at his liver, as the flaky, mercurial Zeus (Jeff Goldblum) becomes increasingly paranoid about a mysterious prophecy that seems to foretell the downfall of the gods, and mortal Eurydice (Aurora Perrineau), who's the unhappy wife of clingy rock star Orpheus (Killian Scott) and somehow tied to that same prophecy, becomes part of a strange situation in the Underworld after being hit by a car.
Goldblum is a hoot, Janet McTeer is amusing as Hera, Perrineau and Nabhaan Rizwan (as Dionysus) are cute, and the show is certainly interesting and strange enough to hold your attention. However, it's weirdly derivative (the depiction of the Underworld borrows unapologetically from Powell and Pressberger's A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH and from LOGAN'S RUN, of all things); it lacks any real emotional throughline; its actual plot is both trite and shrill; it keeps finding new ways to be off-putting (if you watch the first episode, be warned that something bad happens to that kitten!); and by the end, I was just not having fun anymore. I don't find ancient Greek myth terribly interesting, so I'm a hard sell for this kind of smug Tumblr fandom-style revisionism, and creator Charlie Covell approaches it with the attitude of a teenage classics student who considers John Lennon's "Imagine" the height of philosophical insight. Blecch.
CONTAINS LESBIANS? It has some gay guys, the shade of a straight trans man betrayed and murdered by his Amazon community (did I mention this show is frequently off-putting?), and Hera taking Zeus's form to entrap one of his mortal lovers, but no wlw to speak of. VERDICT: You won't be bored, but you probably won't be satisfied either. Also, something bad happens to the kitten, which I find hard to forgive.
#teevee#hateration holleration#kaos#kaos netflix#jeff goldblum#charlie covell#janet mcteer#aurora perrineau#nabhaan rizwan#greek myth#preacher amc#i have the impression it might owe something to#the wicked + the divine#but i haven't read that beyond tumblr osmosis#so i can't comment further
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20 Flirty Remarks to Build Romantic Tension Without Being Overbearing
Feeling stuck trying to give your characters a good flirty one-liner that doesn't sound cringe/overdone? Here are 20 ideas/dialogue prompts for you (that I may or may not have stolen from my own books):Â
âI must warn you: you have a dangerous effect on my heart rate.â / "You have no idea what you're doing to my heart right now."
"If I said I wasnât thinking about you, Iâd be lying. And Iâm a terrible liar."
"You know, I could get lost in those eyes, but I'd probably trip over my words trying to find my way back." (could also double as description/inner monologue).
âI canât tell if youâre really charming or if Iâm just easily charmed.â
âYou have a knack for making me forget what I was going to say. Itâs kind of impressive/infuriating.â
âI think you owe me a drink. When I saw you, I dropped mine.â
âIâve been trying to find the perfect excuse to hang out, but I keep forgetting everything when Iâm around you.â
âI bet you get away with a lot of trouble with that smile.â
âYou must be a magician because every time you walk in, everyone else disappears.â (The right character could pull it off I swear)
"Iâve been trying to think of something clever to say, but all my brain can come up with is how much I want to (kiss) you."
"I saw that little glanceâyouâre not as sneaky as you think."
"How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?"
"You do this cute thing with your hands when youâre nervous, you know?"
âOne more word, and I might just have to kiss you.â
"Finally, there's that pretty smile of yours. I've been waiting for it all day."
"You keep staringâshould I be flattered?" / "Keep looking at me like that and I might start thinking you have a crush on me."
"Do you have any idea how fun it is to watch you try to keep a straight face?"
"Iâm pretty sure you could charm the socks off anyone, but Iâd like to keep mine on for now."
"If laughter is the best medicine, then Iâm pretty sure youâre my favorite doctor."
"Is it bad that I kind of like the way youâre trying to mess with me?"
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?Â
Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok
#hayatheauthor#haya's book blog#haya blogs#writing community#quillology with haya#writing tools#writer things#writing advice#writer community#writing techniques#writing prompt#writing stuff#creative writing#ya writing advice#writing tips and tricks#writer tools#writers of tumblr#writer blog#writers block#quillology with haya sameer#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writer stuff#author help#author advice#author#writing inspiration#writeblr#novel writing#on writing
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any advice for coping with being on the receiving end of a public callout ?
Oh yes:
Do not acknowledge the callout publicly. It will only further its spread, lend it legitimacy, cause you to be interpreted as guilty, and convey to anyone who bears you ill will that you are rattled and feeling socially threatened.
Do not act out of urgency. One of the ways that cancelled people get themselves in far worse trouble is by spiraling due to anxiety and rushing to issue a statement about what has happened, or to attempt to socially manage public impressions about what has happened. Do not do this. Anything that you say will be picked apart and used against you. The situation is truly not as urgent as it might feel. A lot of times, doing nothing and being quiet is the best way to proceed, and the dust will settle better if you do.
Do not issue a public apology. If you truly feel that you have wronged someone, that conflict should be worked out in private with the people you have directly affected. You do not owe the anonymous public audience a damn thing. Do not apologize for something you don't honestly believe that you have done wrong. Take time and really think about what happened, and seek the counsel of people whom you trust in PRIVATE.
Do not attempt to disprove the callout unless you have crystal clear, smoking gun evidence that the person who accused you is actually victimizing you. And even then, probably don't do it. I have only seen a disproof of a callout work ONCE, and that was when Juniper Abernathy revealed the person cancelling her had been abusing her. Even if the facts are on your side, acknowledging the accusations will only make more people aware of them, give your detractors ground to criticize your every word, and will muddy the waters and make people find the situation confusing and troubling rather than clear.
GET THE FUCK OFFLINE. Delete your social media apps for the time being. Turn off notifications. Turn off DMs requests. Change your settings so that you only ever hear from people you already follow (I do this, on the advice of Philosophy Tube). Get away from the computer.
Connect with IRL friends. When you're wrapped up in a cancellation, the negative opinions of a handful of foaming at the mouth freaks loom way larger than they actually are. And social media dramatically skews our sense of social priorities such that the approval rating of complete strangers starts to seem more important than people we actually know, and trust, and who actually know us. Go get a meal with a buddy. Watch a dumb movie. Talk to your grandma about her plans for her garden. Surround yourself with real people you care about and focus on their life and problems, to help put things in perspective.
Find distracting, active, rewarding activities that bring you out of the digital space and into physical reality. Not everyone is talking about you, not everybody hates you, most people have no fucking clue what has been said about you, and most people do not give a fuck about you (that's good). There are so many areas of life that are completely fucking untouched by what a bunch of social media power users have to say online. Go volunteer to clean up a park, run some errands, take an exercise class, foster a dog, regrout your bathroom, knit a hat. Even if the worst case scenario happens and a cancellation sticks, it's really only among a certain very vocal group of miserable fucking people. There is a whole world around you that will not ever care, and you will have a life outside of this.
Good luck!!
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part one
TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail
fem reader
As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You donât know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.
You also get an emailâan invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicelyâwhich he most certainly didnât. Itâs phrased like a notice from your bossâmatter-of-factly, heâs picking you up at eight, wear something nice.
You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you donât want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isnât really all that bad, is it?
Itâs worse, actually.
âYou should have told me you didnât have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,â is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadnât opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driverâs seat waiting.
And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think youâre foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after allâsomething you might as well tell him, âMaybe I just didnât feel like dressing up. You didnât exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I donât believe I owe you anything.â
He scoffs with a grinâface turned towards the road as he starts driving. âYou have a lot more bite without your friend.â
âShe has too much respect for you.â You cross your arms and look out the window.Â
âThatâs for sure.â You hear him chuckle, but he doesnât offer any more of a response. Youâre glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.
You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadnât thought heâd take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while youâre dressed as if youâre going to an office party.
He hasnât tried too hard himself. But still, he fits inâfat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undoneâa nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet itâs one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesnât know the meaning of.
âIs this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?â you sigh as you sit down.
âWe haven't even gotten our menus, and youâre already causing a scene?âÂ
Heâs the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. âMight as well speed this along.â
He chucklesâhis smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way youâd imaginedâthe way youâd remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. âYou know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.â
He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.
âI like that. Most models are dull, but not you.â
âI donât agree. And Iâm a model,â you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.
 âNo? Didnât you see the pictures?â Your attitude doesnât seem to deter himârather, it only seems to egg him further on. âI have them all mounted on my walls at homeâyou should come see.â
This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. âOn your walls?â
âFramed.â He smiles, finally having broken throughâhe only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasnât true. âI just couldnât help myself. I consider it my best work.âÂ
The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertainâspeechless in a sense.
It makes him laugh again. âDoes anything flatter you?â
The wine comes. Heâs poured a glass for testing.
âNot when spoken by men like you.â
His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.
âThatâs a shame,â he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and youâre poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. âIâd like to flatter youâIâd like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.â
You sip your glass. âNo need.â
âIâm not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?â
You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. âHow do youââ
âI didnât.â Itâs a lie, of course, heâd searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. âItâs clear from the looks of youââ
âFuck you,â you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.
He doesnât mind it. âOh, I want you to,â he says instead. âAfter I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.â
Youâre stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. âHow about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.âÂ
His smile doesnât drop, even as you get up to leave. âSettle down, sweetheart.â
âMake me, jackass.âÂ
Youâre on your way to go, but his next words have you halting.Â
âEither you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.â
You turn around to look at him. You donât really know why youâre so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadnât really believed heâd take it that far.
âItâs my impression you donât want that,â he continues.
You sit back down. He tops your glass off.
âI could make her big, you know?â he offers while pouring for himself as well. âReally speed her career alongâset her up for life. Iâll do the same for you, too, of course.âÂ
He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.
âAnd all you gotta do is come back home with me.â
You donât have the words.
âYou wonât be disappointed,â he promises. âIâm good at it.â As if thatâs your concern. âYouâll never want to fuck anyone else again.â
You hate how right he is.Â
Youâve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. Itâs like nothing youâve ever experiencedâso good, youâre screamingâmoaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.
Heâs on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouthâyour hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.
Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until youâre almost about ready to drop your weight completely.
But heâs made you come undone three times by then, and just canât wait any longer.Â
Heâs spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skylineâhis mouth hot on the shell of your ear, âI told you so, didnât I?â
Your breath fogs the glass with your pantingâknees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms heâs got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your wombâhard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars.Â
âYou wonât wanna fuck anyone else again.â
⥠BNHA â Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ⥠JJK â Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ⥠HQ â Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ⥠BLLK â Reo, Rin ⥠AOT â Levi ⥠DS â Akaza, Sanemi
âĄÂ FEM x M INSERT masterlist âĄÂ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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Soulmate | Carlos Sainz Ver.
WC: 4.8K
Csrlos x Soulmate!reader
Summery: Everyone can feel their soulmate's injuries and pain since the age of 15
Warning: None??
AN: Thank you for all the ideas. I just changed jobs, and it's a full time office job, so it's very demanding đđ
Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver., Lewis Ver.
Masterlist
Carlos Masterlist
The world is built on the idea that soulmates are connected through their physical pain. Everyone knows that if you're injured or in pain, your soulmates feel the exact same pain. This can be seen as a blessing or as a curse. In one way, you know when your other half is injured, but it also brings shared vulnerability. Some believed it was a form of protection, a way for soulmates to be in tune with one another, even if they'd never met.Â
Now, did you know about this from a young age? Yes, you did. Did that stop you from doing all those crazy things that caused you multiple injuries? No. You felt sorry every time, but you're just clumsy by nature. It was from the moment you could walk that you've been a klutz. Bumping into walls, tripping over your own feet, and misjudging the occasional stair, it was part of your life. Growing up, you've gotten used to the bumps and bruises that came with her natural clumsiness, but what took longer to adjust to was the knowledge that someone else felt them, too.
Your soulmate must be a saint because you've rarely felt any pain. Yes, through the years, there have been times when you felt real and strong pain, but it was few and far between.
In a world of soulmates that felt their soulmates through visceral pain, your soulmate did everything he could to never cause you pain.
And for as long as you could remember, youâd imagined what he might be like. Patient for sure, after all, he had to endure your countless scrapes and missteps. You wondered if he was the type to sigh and shake his head when he felt you stub your toe or if he was used to your clumsiness, so much so that it barely bothered him anymore. Whoever he was, you were grateful got him.
Your friends often teased you about it, especially when you had a particularly bad fall or ended up with an impressive bruise. âYou really owe your soulmate an apology.â They would always joke. âHe must be so fed up by now.â
Youâd always laugh it off, but late at night youâd overthink. Did he really mind? Or was he out there somewhere laughing about it, too? What was his life like? Was he clumsy, too? You doubt it. He must be the complete opposite, composed and careful, someone who rarely felt pain unless it was coming from you. Maybe he was a doctor or an athlete, someone who needed precision and strength in his day-to-day life. Your imagination would always run wild, paining pictures of him in your mind. But no matter how many times you tried to envision his face, it remained just out of reach, like the hazy details of a dream.
The older you got the more curious you got, and it started eating at you. Who was he? Where was he? Some people met their soulmate early on, like your childhood friend who had found hers at eighteen. Others never found theirs at all, even though they shared the pain for their entire lives. You tried not to let it bother you too much, after all what could you do? If youâre meant to meet itâll happen on itâs own time.
But still there was that nagging feeling every time you bumped your knee or accidently burned your hand cooking. You would wince and imagine him somewhere far away, gritting his teeth as he felt the same.
âAnother one for you soulmate.â You muttered as you stumbled over a crack in the pavement.
For as long as you lived with the bond youâve been the one giving the worst of pains, sending your soulmate injuries, most harmless, but youâve also broken enough bones over the years.
It started as a dull ache, just beneath your ribs on the right side. At first, you didnât think much of it, assuming itâs a muscle strain or maybe itâs something youâve eaten. You shifted in your seat, pressing your hand against the spot as if to massage the discomfort away, but the ache lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.
Throughout the day the pain grew worse. What started as mild throb quickly became sharp, stabbing sensation, taking your breath away every time you moved, and you started to feel a fever coming. This wasnât like the occasional bump or fall youâre used to, this is far worse than anything youâve felt before. This is different, deeper, persistent and alarming.
By late afternoon, you couldnât take it anymore, every breath felt like a knife twisting in your side, and no matter how you positioned yourself, it wouldnât go away. Sweat was forming on your forehead as you tried to power through the pain, but something wasnât right.
Could this be coming from him?
You never felt pain like this before, certainly not from your own body. Your chest tightened, if this pain wasnât yours, then something is very wrong. The idea that your soulmate could be hurt, really hirt, it made your stomach churn. You could handle minor injuries, but this? This was different.
You rushed to the hospital, the ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. By the time you arrived, you were sweating and clutching your side, each movement like a dagger. You explained your symptoms to the nurse at the reception, your voice wavering with pain and fear,
They rushed you into an examination room.
âWeâll run some tests.â The doctor said after you told him your symptoms, his brows furrowed with concern. âIt sounds like it could be appendicitis, but weâll know more once we do an ultrasound.â
As the minutes dragged on, the pain sharpened, radiating into your chest. You clutched the hospital bedâs metal rails, your knuckles turned white as you waited. Nurses and doctors came and went performing the tests as quickly as they could. After what felt like hours the doctor came back.
âThe tests came back normal.â He began, flipping through the papers in his hands. âThereâs no sign of appendicitis, in fact, you donât have an appendix.â That was news to you.
âWhat? I donât have it? Is that normal?â You asked confused.
âItâs rare but it happens some people are born without an appendix.â The doctor confirmed, he didnât seem too worried.
âBut the pain, itâs unbearable, whatâs causing it?â You asked and dreaded the answer you know the doctor is about to give you.
âThe only answer we have is, the pain isnât yours to begin with.â The doctor smiled sympathetically. His words hung in the air heavy. Your soulmate. Heâs the one in agony, and you were feeling every excruciating second of it.
Carlos hasnât been feeling the best the last couple of days, he thought he was tired from all the traveling and racing and training. It happens. But the moment he woke up he knew something was wrong, he had Free Practice today, so he just pushed through it. However throughout the day, heâs just been getting worse and worse. By the end of FP2 he knew he couldnât just push it off, it wasnât food poisoning, he was starting to burn up.
Carlos with his team went to the hospital so heâd get checked out. He sat hunched over in the waiting room, gripping his side as the pain flared up again, sharper this time. The medics had said it was appendicitis and a routine surgery, nothing major. But that didnât ease the fear eating at the back of his mind. Heâs used to pushing his body through physical discomfort, but never to the point of pain. But this wasnât the type of pain you ignore.
He could feel the ache spreading and tightening like a vice around his abdomen. His hands were clammy, sweat was gathered on his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. Heâs been through a lot through his life, the crash here and there, the pain of his soulmate breaking a bone, and stubbing her toes and all the random bruises she seems to get randomly. This felt like his body was on fire from the inside out, and it wasnât just the physical pain that made his chest tighten.
It was her, his soulmate.
As long as he could remember, he had shared pain with you. The worst when you had broken your leg. And heâs grown accustomed to the random flicker of discomfort over the years, wondering what kind of person you are. He imagined you being clumsy, maybe even a bit absent-minded, but he never minded. In fact, it had always made him smile, knowing that somewhere out there, you were living your life and through those little jolts of pain you felt close to him.
But today, he was the one that was causing you pain, pain like you both have never experienced before. That realisation made him nauseous. How much of this were you feeling right now? Were you suffering as much as he was, lying somewhere clutching your side in agony?
Carlos wiped the sweat from his brow and closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain. He thought of you, his soulmate.
You walked out of the hospital room, walking slowly. Since the pain you were experiencing isnât yours, pain meds will do nothing unless your soulmate takes some. You were clutching your side as you walked, not really paying attention, that and being the clumsy person that you are you bumped into someone while you were passing one of the waiting rooms. You stumbled before your knees hit the floor, hard. You winced, the same time someone else did.
âIâm so sorry are you alright?â An accented voice asked, you looked up to see a man with a moustache, he was dressed in red.
âYeah, yeah, Iâm sorry, I wasnât paying attention.â You replied instantly and took the manâs hand to stand up. You were unaware of the other Spanish eyes on you.
Carlos shared a look with his dad beside him, Carlos Sr. saw everything happen. He saw you fall and he saw his son wince when you did.
âPinch yourself.â He muttered to his son, not taking his eyes off you.
âW-what?â Carlos frowned at his fatherâs words, but he didnât wait Carlos Sr. pinched his sonâs arm and you let out an âawâ and held your arm where he pinched his son.
You frowned, not understanding what was going on with your soulmate.
âAre you hurt?â The man in front of you asked seeing how you held your arm.
âYeah, soulmate.â He lets out an âahâ in understanding.
Carlosâs eyes went wide when he saw you feel his pain, your hand went back to your side, the same he was holding, and even though he was still in pain he felt relieved, his heart much lighter and he couldnât help but smile. His dad nudged him with a smile of his own. And Carlos stood up and went to his friendâs side. Gigi was confused why Carlos was coming his way, and why he was smiling when he had to go in for surgery in less than two hours. But he wasnât looking at him, he was looking at you.
You only noticed him when he came to stand beside the man you bumped into.
âHi.â Carlos said simply and you frowned confused.
âHi?â It came out as a question, you looked between the two men in confusion. âIâm sorry but i-â
You were cut off when you groaned as a wave of pain hit you, the same time as the stranger in front of you winced and held his side, the same side youâve felt the pain. Gigi then knew what happened, and he too couldnât help but smile, he looked at Carlos Sr. for confirmation and he just gave him a proud nod.
You looked at the new man who was holding his side, your heart skipped a beat. Is he? Could he? This is almost too good to be true. You bit your tongue slightly.
âWhy are you biting your tongue?â The smooth voice of your soulmate asked, your eyes went wide, Carlos chuckled at the expression on your face. âHi.â
âHi.â This time it was breathless; your eyes didnât move from his face as you took him in. He also was waring a red shirt, but he also had a hat on top of his head, covering parts of his face but your eyes met his, nonetheless.
âIâm Carlos.â Carlos said and put his hand out for you to shake.
âY/n.â You said taking his hand, the rush you both felt is unexplainable. You felt warm, your heart was beating faster and you were tingling all over. âItâs really you.â
âItâs me.â Carlos said and you both didnât let go of each otherâs hand.
âCarlos, itâs better you go to your room.â Gigi said, once the nurse told them his room was ready. Carlos nods, but it takes him a few moments to let go of your hand and look away.
âCome on.â Carlos said and he leads you to his room following the nurse. Once the door is closed leaving the both of you alone, you turned to face him once more.
âI never thought Iâd meet my soulmate in a hospital of all places.â You said and smiled.
âReally? With how much you like to hit the floor, it was more than likely.â Carlos teased, he took off his hat and ran a hand though his hair, it was so fluffy you wanted to run your hands through it.
âYeah, sorry about that.â You mutter suddenly not meeting his eyes, feeling guilty for all the pain you caused him.
âHey, I didnât say I minded.â He said but you still refused to meet his eyes, so he went on. âEvery time I felt your pain, I knew you were out there somewhere, living your life and that I wasnât alone, even if once or twice the timing wasnât the best, is till cherished it.â
âReally?â You asked meeting his hypnotizing brown eyes.
âReally.â Carlos confirms, his smile is sweet and kind and warm.
âWhatâs wrong with your appendix?â You ask your hand itching to touch where you know he feels the pain most.
âI have appendicitis, will go into surgery in an hour or so.â Carlos tells you and feels himself riddled with guilt, knowing you felt the pain of his illness. âWhy are you here?â
âCame to check if itâs my pain or yours I was feeling.â You could see the guilt eating at him. âI rarely felt pain coming from you, youâve always been so careful, and here I am falling every day.â
âGuess we balance each other out.â Carlos said and you smiled.
âGuess so⊠also I discovered Iâm born without an appendix.â You suddenly tell him and smile up at him.
âSo weâll match then.â Carlos laughed at the coincidence. You both stayed silent for a long moment, just basking in each otherâs presence. âThereâs so much I want to ask you.â
âMe too.â You tell him honestly. âLike why are you wearing red? It looks like a uniform, same with the guy I walked into.â
âIt kind of is a uniform, itâs team kit, weâre required to wear it.â Carlos says and runs a hand over the back of his neck, heâll have to explain what he does to you.
âLike a sports thing?â You asked raising an eyebrow.
âYeah, exactly that.â You mouth forms an âoâ shape, and you nod to yourself.
âWhat sport?â
âFormula 1.â You rack your brain over if youâve heard of it before, Carlos saw the confused look on your face, he was about to answer your un asked question when someone knocked on the door. He called out for them to enter and in walked his dad and Gigi.
âYou have to get ready.â Gigi said and Carlos sighed he was just starting to talk to you, you smiled at him.
âIâll be here.â You promised and he nods.
âIâll introduce you then. This is y/n, my soulmate.â He said is so proudly, smiling at you, a smile that you shared. âThatâs Poerluigi, known as Gigi and this is my dad Carlos Sr.â
âOh, I didnât know you dad was here as well, itâs nice to meet you sir.â You say and go to shake his hand, Sr. smiles and shakes your hand.
âNice to finally meet you.â Carlos Sr. said with a smile he gave you a quick one-armed hug while your hands were still clasped together. âCarlos has been anxious to meet you lately.â
âPapa.â Carlos Jr. warned his dad, he didnât want any embarrassing stories to reach you before he even gotten the chance to officially sit and talk to you. Sr. winked at you and you giggled, Carlos gives you both a warning look, before you leave the room so they can prep him for surgery. Meeting your soulmate right before he has to go into surgery isnât really ideal. The three of you were allowed to wait in his room once Carlos was wheeled out.
âSo what exactly does Carlos do?â You asked, and that opened the flood gates. They told you about how Carlos Sr. is a rally driver, all his achievements and how Carlos decided to get into Formula 1, that heâs a driver for Ferrari. They showed you some videos of him on track, deciding not to share anything personal and leave it to Carlos to share and say what he wants to.
You in turn were asked about what you do, your hobbies, why youâre always getting bruised and just random talk. When Carlos is brought back in the room, heâs still unconscious, the doctor informed you that it went well and that heâll recover in no time. Carlos Sr. went out the room to call his wife and inform her of Carlosâ well-being.
when Carlos wakes up, youâre all kicked out of the room for the doctor to check on him, before youâre allowed back inside. The doctor reconfirms that Carlos is okay and well and that heâll be able to recover fast. Something he was happy to hear about.
âHow are you feeling?â Carlos Sr. asked his son.
âGood.â
âI think the pain meds havenât worn off yet.â You say, feeling not an ounce of pain through your connection. Carlos smiles at you and you smile back.
âYou stayed.â
âOf course, I did.â You say with a pointed look, heâd be stupid if he thought youâre about to leave him when heâs going into surgery, no matter how easy it is.
Gigi takes a picture of both Carlosâs for Instagram, for the fans. He did manage to snap a few of you both, but those were private, for now at least.
âWhere are you staying?â Carlos asked and when you gave him your hotel room, he laughed.
âWhat?â
âYou were so close all along.â Carlos says and he smiles thinking about how even if he was okay, you properly wouldâve met. âIâm staying there too.â
âGuess fate intended for us to meet one way or the other.â You smile at the thought, youâre mean to be, and you were bound to meet.
Carlos is required to spend the night, and his dad decided to stay with him. Meaning you and Gigi went back to the hotel, and agreed to meet in the morning so you could head back to the hotel together. In all of the rush of things, you forgot to ask Carlos for his number, but Gigi gave you his number for the meet up in the morning.
can you send me Carlosâ number? đ
Gigi
Sure đ
You ignore the winky face and save Carlosâ number once you received it.
Stop moving around so much đ€š
Soulmate â€ïž
sorry, I canât find a comfortable spot to sleep
ask the nurses for painkillers if youâre in pain
Soulmate â€ïž
Iâm alright, itâs not too bad
Do you feel pain? If you want I can take pain killers for you.
no Iâm good, itâs alright
I can feel you
Soulmate â€ïž
I canât feel you
do you want me to pinch myself or something?
Soulmate â€ïž
No, now the tables are turned.
I guess so
Soulmate â€ïž
what?
im sad that youâre the one in pain
Thatâs my job in the relationship!
Soulmate â€ïž
Relationship? đ
You felt a blush cover your face; you want to cover your cheeks even though he canât even see you.
I think thatâs enough for today
you should go to sleep.
Soulmate â€ïž
fine, Iâll let it slide
this time
see you tomorrow, hermosaâ
see you tomorrow.
The next morning you meet up with Gigi, who had a bag of clothes for both Carlosâs. the drive to the hospital you spent talking about unimportant things. When you got to the hospital, Carlos Sr. took the bag and went to change, and Gigi excused himself to go get coffee.
âHow did you sleep?â Carlos asked you.
âI slept alright, how about you?â You asked glancing to where they did the surgery.
âI slept better than ever, dreaming about you.â You couldnât fight the blush and turned your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. âDonât hide your face from me.â
Carlos moved so his feet were dangling off the bed, he wanted to walk up to you and pull you in close. He hasnât been able to hug you yet, and he wants to desperately. Carlos puts his hand out and you walk closer to him, you put your hand in his and he pulls you closer. Youâre standing between his legs; Carlos doesnât wait and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment before you lean into him, your arms much closer around him than his around you. But you lean your head onto on his shoulder.
âI wanted to do that since I saw you.â Carlos mumbles, his voice coming out right next to your ear, making you shiver.
âOnly this?â You ask, now that youâre face is hidden, you found the confidence to say that to him.
âIf we werenât here, Iâd show you all the things I want to do to you.â Carlos whispers and kisses right under your ear, you close your eyes basking in the feeling of him around you.
âCould have waited until I wasnât here.â Carlos Sr. says coming out of the attached bathroom. You pull away from Carlos and your blush is back. Carlos only chuckles and rolls his eyes at his father.
Carlos changes and comes out, him and his dad start talking in Spanish, you sip on the coffee Gigi has gotten you checking your notifications on your phone. You look up when you feel the conversation getting a tad bit heated, Carlos is standing in a pair of jeans and his team kit his hat is on the bed.
âWhy are you in your team kit?â You ask confused, Carlos Sr. moved his hand in your direction, indicating to his son to tell you whatâs going on.
âIâm going to the race today.â Carlos said and you frowned.
âWhy? Are they making you go?â You asked seeing no reason for him to be anywhere, but back in the hotel and resting until his flight.
âNo, but I want to be there.â Carlos said simply and his dad muttered something under his breath.
âYou just got a surgery not even 24 hours ago.â You say standing up.
âI know, but like I told papa, I want to go be there for the team, and I wonât be doing an media or anything, it wouldnât be different than me staying in the hotel.â
âDoubt it.â Sr. mutters. You think for a moment, not liking this at all.
âOkay, but remember I feel your pain, at the first sign of it weâll be out of there.â You tell him with a pointed look, daring him to disagree.
âOkay, fine.â Carlos says and Gigi smirks.
âI like this one.â
Both Carlos Sr. and Jr. walked to the motorhome first, and you and Gigi followed after, you had a Ferrari with 55 hat on, your head was done as instructed as you followed the man in front of you. There has been a dull pain in your side as the pain killers wore off, but it wasnât too bad so you said nothing. Getting to the garage, Gigi sticks to your side and shows you around, Carlos is busy, which isnât the resting he said heâd do.
Gigi soon introduces you to Alex, Charleâs soulmate, you both talk about your soulmates. Unlike you she knew about Formula 1 before she dated Charles, but her knowledge was limited before that. She was super nice to you, as she explained a few things about the race, she also pointed out where Carlos is in the garage. You may have known him for so little time, but seeing him work, showed you a different side to him. Heâs very dedicated and clearly loves what he does.
You find yourself in the back of the garage in a staff only area, itâs like a cafeteria. Carlos was standing to the side eating from a plat in his hand while you talked with Charles and Alex.
Carlos drops his fork on the floor and in a reflex move he bends to pick the fork up. Your side suddenly flares up and you gasp clutching your side. Both Charles and Alex look at you in concern.
âItâs Carlos.â You tell them and move to get to your soulmate, when your clumsy self decides to hit the side of a table with your hip making you stumble and now hold your hip. Carlos curses and he moves to get to you only ending up hunched over from the strain he puts to his side.
âYou both, need to stop moving!â Carlos Sr. says and goes to see Carlos and make sure he hasnât popped a stitch or something. Charles and Alex were at your side pulling you up.
âYou are clumsy.â Charles says with a teasing smile, and Alex hits his shoulder, giving herself the same pain, but it makes him stop.
âMade for each other you two.â Carlos Sr. says and you and Carlos meet eyes, you both smile and chuckle, this recovery is going to be harder than you both expected.
It took you two weeks to allow Carlos to do any kind of kissing, and still, you stayed away from his side when you did. Carlos had you in his home to get to know you while he was in between races. He just came back from a race that he won, first winner of the season, that isnât Max. it took more than usual out of him, which was understandable. But now that he was cleared to race, here you were on his bed, him leaning on the headboard and you in his lap, kissing. I never felt this good. Every bite ever suck was felt by the two of you. It left you gasping and moaning for more. Both your lips are puffy and bruised, Carlos moves his lips to your neck in wet kisses before he finds your sweet spot that had you moving over him. He groans and starts sucking, so lost in the moment.
The next day you wake up first and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, Carlos hears the water and wakes up. He walks in the bathroom and stops when he sees himself in the mirror, he lets out a curse. You poke your head out hearing him curse.
âWhatâs wrong?â You ask and he turns to show you his neck, you burst out laughing. â
âBut it looks good on you.â Carlos almost whined and you couldnât help but continue laughing.
âWell did you come into here to stare at yourself in the mirror, or?â You asked raising an eyebrow before turning and getting back under the shower head. Carlos forgets all about the hickeys covering his neck, collarbones and chest. He did a number on you last night.
Â
Letâs just say it was easier for you to cover them than Carlos. The next race, the fans spotted them fast.
âLooks like you had a fun night.â Jensen commented while interviewing Carlos with a knowing smirks on his face. âWild girl?â
âUh no, I wouldnât sag that. I did them myself.â Carlos admitted his face warming up a bit. You watched the interview from the sides, your neckline and hair covering up all the bruises he left on you.
âDid them yours- oh, oh, congratulations, mate.â Jensen bro hugged Carlos, realising what he meant. âWe all had to learn where to stop.â
You rolled your eyes bit still smiled, Carlos already knew where to stop, evident by the fact that more bruises ended right under his neckline.
Â
It was all just a time thing, with your clumsiness and Carlosâs love of kissing. But your identical bruises caught on cameras, as well as you hitting something and Carlos reacting was a sign enough for everyone that youâre his soulmate.
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@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#carlos fic#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz gif#carlos imagine#carlos sainz#cs55 fluff#cs55 imagine#cs55 x reader#cs55 x you#cs55 x y/n#cs55#carlos sainz soulmates au#f1 soulmate au
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Thinking of being Ghost's fiance and making invite the 141 over for dinner to finally meet them and he begrudgingly accepts because anything to make u happy and they're still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that he's engaged
mmm omg your mind đ«¶đŒ
finally getting older bf!simon to have the 141 around your dinner was the equivalent of pulling teeth.
come to think, pulling teeth wouldâve been easier.
âwell fuck me for wanting to meet the people the man iâm marrying spends 90% of his time withâ
âsweetâart yâknow i donât like bringing work âomeâ
then youâd gone and put your hands on your hips with just one (1) eyebrow raised-
and the lads were knocking at his fucking door.
âgidday- donât fuckinâ start wâmeâ
âsome bloody way to greet yâguests, big manâ
as he corralled all their snide little remarks about âdidnae know yeâ owned a nice shirtâ everyone managed to find their best behaviour upon your appearance.
it mightâve had something to do with the stunned silence.
when heâd begrudgingly invited them, theyâd all been in a little bit of shock- first of all, ghost had a fiancĂ©? second of all, ghost is letting us into his home?
then it all round off with, third of all-
ghostâs fiancĂ© was a fucking looker, thatâs for sure.
sweet, nice, bloody easy on the eyes- how the hell had he managed that?
you were just happy to meet the closest things to friends that simon had.
price took lead by drawing you into a hug, thanking you for your hospitality. followed closely by a sweet talking gaz who was already making your cheeks warm with his manners.
naturally, johnny had to chime in with some stupid little-
ânae wonder L.t disnae want us knowing about yeâ, iâd keep yeâ all tâmaself tooâ
heâs too slow to avoid simonâs flat palm coming up the side of his head, but it doesnât dissuade him much.
heâs peachy fucking keen to meet you.
simon eats his tea with a tense jaw, rolling his eyes every time someone makes you laugh a little too long, tells another âembarrassingâ story about him.
he also keeps his palm firmly on your knee, nervous twitch of a thumb running circles over your skin.
when you pop out to the kitchen to fix dessert, theyâre on him like starved dogs.
âall this time and not so much as a bloody photo?â
âkindaâ photos iâm gettinâ arenât fâyou lots eyesâ
johnny nearly falls out of his seat.
you can hear them whispering all the way from the kitchen, for a bunch of SAS guys- theyâre not very subtle.
simonâs got one ear on the shit chatter coming from his team and the other on the kitchen, waiting for the slightest sign that he might be able to join you.
it comes- in the form of a gasp from you followed by âow fuckâ
simonâs out of his seat like a bullet.
âwhatâs wrong- what âave yâdone?â
you know the 141 are watching, doesnât take a genius to see the way theyâre all craning their necks around the kitchen doorframe.
âiâm fine, si- just a little burn from the panâ
âlemmeâ see, gimmeâ yâhandâ
so the 141 see their ghost, unshakeable mountain of a man- a face they never see-
and they see his face, and they see genuine fear on it.
they see simon.
your simon.
âiâm telling you itâs fine, siâ
âiâll make that call, alrightâ
and theyâre all looking at each other across the table, trying to decide whether to be impressed or even a little jealous- theyâre leaning towards jealous.
so instead they settle on taking the absolute piss out of him.
not that he minds-
before you could even reach your chair he was pulling you into his lap- having you eat dessert perched on his thigh.
as you settle back into his chest, you could swear you feel him laugh.
that hand settles back on your knee again but there arenât nervous circles anymore.
more like gentle squeezes.
your simon.
right at home.
#domestic simon save me save me domestic simon#older bf!simon#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesnât find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)
Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)
Worst Day Ever
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader
CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD
WC: ~1100
âThis is the worst day ever.â
Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. âYou sound like a toddler.â
Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. âWhat does she see in that dirtbag?â he makes a face of disgust.
âI guess she sees his abs.â Natasha shrugs.
Bradley gives her a flat look. âNot you too.â
âWhat?â she exclaims with a laugh. âIâm not denying that heâs got a shit personality.â She glances over at you and Jake. âBut heâs easy on the eyes, what can I say?â
âMaybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,â Bradley muses.
âDude, weâre in the military.â Natasha shakes her head. âPush ups are not going to impress her.â
âBut his abs did the trick?â
Natasha purses her lips. âHave you seen him flex?â
âMaybe you should bag him,â Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, âActually, thatâs not a half bad idea!â
âNo,â Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.
âCâmon, Trace. I will owe you.â Bradley trails after her. âI will pay you.â
Natasha stops just short of the door. âTo do what?â
âWeâll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman ââ
âNo,â Natasha repeats, exiting the room.
âI thought you had my back!â Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.
âSomeone leave you hanginâ, Rooster?â Jake asks playfully as he walks by.
Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that youâre walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly â for the first time ever â and then glances back at Jake irritably. âDonât worry, Bagman. Thatâs still your undisputed domain.â
Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.
âHey Bagman!â Natasha calls from down the hall.
Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.
âYou guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?â she asks casually.
Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesnât respond right away.
Thatâs when you say, âSure! Weâll be there!â
âŠ
âDrink as much as you want, Phoenix,â Bradley says giddily. âItâs on me.â
âYou bet your ass it is,â Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. âIâm going to need it.â
Bradley doesnât have a chance to laugh because thatâs when you and Jake enter the bar.
The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natashaâs table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.
âHey!â Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.
Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.
âHowâs it going?â you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear theyâre the three sweetest words heâs ever heard in his life.
âGreat,â he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.
âSo good,â Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. âI need a refill.â
Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. âWhatâre you drinking?â he asks.
Natasha grimaces at him. âI can get my own beer,â she responds, also getting up.
Jake gives her a phony grin. âI guess youâre used to it,â he bites back.
You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. âBe nice,â you warn him.
Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that youâre familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time youâve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.
âIâm glad you guys came,â Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl whoâs more or less spoken for.
You smile at him. âYeah, thanks for the invite!â
âOf course,â Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.
âJakeâs pretty excited.â
Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake whoâs at the bar with Natasha. âHeâs got a weird way of showing it.â
You laugh. âOh, heâs far too âbadassâ to show it.â
Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. âI like you,â he says before he can stop himself.
You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.
âI mean it,â he says.
You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. âYour low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,â you say.
Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. âYou saw that?â
âIt was hard to miss.â You cringe slightly. âCyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.â
Bradley winces. âYeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.â He lets out a chuckle.
You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.
Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I donât know what you and Bagman have going on ââ
âUmm,â you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because heâs fairly certain youâre about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, âYou know heâs my brother, right?â
Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, âShut the fuck up.â
You start laughing. âWhat did you think?â
Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. âThatâs why you like him.â
âWell, I wouldnât go that far,â you mutter sarcastically.
Bradley nearly chokes. âYouâre hilarious,â he says.
You lean into the table toward him. âAnd youâre cute.â
Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. âIâm so glad you think so.â
âAlright kids,â Bradley hears Jakeâs voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. âWeâre gonna call it a night.â
âWhat? Already?â Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natashaâs hand. âOh,â Bradley adds, meeting Natashaâs gaze with an amused grin. âWell, this is turning out to be an alright day.â
Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.
âBradshaw,â Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. âKeep your hands to yourself.â
Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, âYou have yourself a good night, Seresin.â
Rooster Tag List:
The rest of the list will be in the comments.
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@olliepig
@xoxabs88xox
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A Step too Far
Kinkvember Day 9: Spanking
NMIXX Jang Kyujin x Male reader
AN: I woke up with a bit of a fever today, so Iâm not quite at full power. But Iâm still here and determined to keep the daily challenge going! Today's story might be a touch softer than usual and a little lighter on the smut.đ
Ugh, whatâs taking him so long?
Kyujin lingered in the doorway of the garage, the warmth of the late afternoon sun pouring in around her, casting a golden halo that softened the edges of the worn tools and scattered equipment. Her gaze was steady, focused on you, as you worked intently on your motorcycle. With each turn of a bolt, each slight adjustment, you were lost in the world of mechanics, your concentration so intense that it seemed like she barely existed in your orbit.
You hadnât noticed her yet. She leaned against the doorframe, an amused smile dancing on her lips as she bit down gently, trying to quell the impatience stirring within her. There was something maddeningly captivating about the way you workedâthe steady rhythm of clinks and clanks filling the air, mingled with the occasional soft grunt of effort. These sounds formed a backdrop that only made her want you more, made her want to break your focus and pull you back to her.
Her gaze traveled over you, lingering on the way the muscles in your back flexed beneath the thin layer of your shirt, which was damp with a fine sheen of sweat. You were deeply focused, your shoulders steady as you leaned over the bike, hands skilled and precise as they moved from tool to tool. The heady scent of engine oil, gasoline, and the lingering sweetness of summer mixed in the small, enclosed space, filling her senses. It heightened everything, amplifying the awareness she had of each moment she spent watching you.
She admired your dedication, the way you could immerse yourself completely in whatever you were working on. Normally, that focus of yours was endearing, even impressive. But right now? It was a problem. She wanted your attentionâneeded it, actuallyâand the longer she stood there waiting, the more that need intensified.
Finally, she stepped further into the garage, clearing her throat softly as she called out to you, a playful lilt in her voice. âOppaaaa, youâve been working all daaaaay! Donât you want a break? Spend some time with me?â
Her words filled the small space, but you barely responded, your gaze never lifting from the bike. âAlmost done, Jagiya,â you murmured absently, your voice calm but distant, as if youâd hardly heard her.
Kyujinâs lips pressed into a thin line as her gaze sharpened. Almost done? Youâd been telling her that for hours now, ever since you had set to work, each part needing a new adjustment, each bolt requiring the perfect amount of torque. She shifted her weight, her arms crossing over her chest as a pout began to form. Didnât you realize sheâd been waiting for you this whole time? That she was here, right now, needing you?
Taking a deep breath, she tried again, softening her voice, her tone now dripping with sweetness and affection as she cooed, âCome oooonnn, I need attention, Oppa,â her voice slipping into a soft, playful whine. âYouâve been ignoring me all day⊠donât you miss me?â
There was a pause, and she thought maybeâjust maybeâher words had reached you this time. But you simply hummed, nodding slightly as you replied, âI do, honey, but I need to finish this. Be patient, okay?â Your hands moved over the bike in smooth, practiced motions, your attention locked entirely on the work before you.
Her heart fell just a bit, frustration mingling with the ache of longing. Patient? She had been more than patientâsheâd been watching you in silence, waiting, the entire day. She wanted you, here and now, and your request for more patience felt like a brush-off. A spark of mischief flared within her, and she felt a grin slowly forming on her lips. If you werenât going to give her your attention willingly, maybe sheâd have to take matters into her own hands.
Letâs see how much patience you really have, she thought, her gaze flicking over to the light switch on the wall beside her. You were still completely engrossed in your task, seemingly oblivious to her scheming, to the slight excitement building in her chest.
With one quick flick, she plunged the garage into darkness, watching as the warm glow of the sun instantly vanished, leaving only shadows. A soft, mischievous giggle escaped her lips as she quickly flicked the lights back on, peeking at you to catch your reaction.
Your hands froze mid-action, and your shoulders tensed slightly, but you didnât turn around. âHoneyâŠâ Your voice was low, carrying a gentle warning that felt almost half hearted, as if you were trying to keep the focus despite her interruption.
Kyujinâs pulse quickened at the thrill of pushing you, her amusement growing as she watched you try to maintain composure. She loved testing your boundaries, nudging you until you broke from that perfect focus. And so far? You hadnât even turned to look at her.
Alright, a wicked grin forming on her lips as she reached for the light switch again. This time, she flicked it off and let the darkness linger a bit longer, relishing the silence and the tension before snapping the lights back on. Her laughter bubbled up, louder this time, spilling into the quiet garage.
A sigh escaped you, deeper and more audible, and she watched the way your hand tightened around the wrench, your posture just a bit stiffer. âJagiya, Iâm serious,â you said, your tone firmer but not without a hint of exasperation. You still hadnât turned around. âDonât push me today. I need to finish this so I can get to work on Monday.â
She smirked, biting back another laugh, hearing the tension weaving its way into your voice. You were trying so hard to stay calm, so hard to keep focused on the bike, but she could see the tiny cracks forming. And the thrill of itâthe way she could unravel you bit by bitâmade her heart beat faster. Her gaze drifted over to your workbench, where your tools lay neatly arranged, each one in its place. An idea sparked within her, her fingers twitching with anticipation.
Her eyes landed on a small wrench at the edge of the workbench, one youâd no doubt reach for soon. Smiling slyly, she slid over to the bench, reaching out with light fingers as she gently picked up the wrench, hiding it behind her back. She moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, her heart pounding as she waited for you to notice.
And then, after a few more focused adjustments, she saw you extend your hand toward the spot where the wrench was supposed to be. Your fingers met only air, and she watched your hand hover there for a moment, realization dawning in your posture as you froze. Slowly, you turned, your eyes narrowing slightly as you finally met her gaze.
Kyujin widened her eyes in mock innocence, her lips parted just enough to suggest she knew absolutely nothing about what had happened to the wrench. The stolen tool was hidden behind her back, her fingers wrapped around it with barely contained excitement.
âWhere is it?â you asked, voice calm but with an edge of authority, your eyes scrutinizing her expression.
Her heart raced, her pulse thrumming with the thrill of teasing you. Flashing her best innocent smile, she replied, âWhereâs what? What are you talking about?â
You straightened up, wiping your hands on a rag as you leveled her with a steady look. âBaby,â you said, your voice lower now, laced with a quiet but unmistakable warning. âI know you. Give it back.â
Her grin widened as she felt the tension rise between you. This was her favorite momentâthe way she could push you, the way you allowed her to dance right at the edge of your patience. She loved seeing that intensity flash in your eyes, knowing she had pulled you out of that work trance you always fell into. That was her magic, the power to unravel you, to bring you back to her.
âI still donât know what youâre talking about,â she replied sweetly, feigning innocence as she took a small step back, keeping the wrench hidden behind her back.
Your expression shifted, a hint of frustration flickering in your gaze as you let out a slow, controlled breath. âIâm not in the mood for this,â you replied, your tone dipping to something serious, each word carrying weight. âThis is your last chance. Show me whatâs behind your back.â
The thrill in her chest intensified, the playful glint in her eyes sparking even brighter. She loved thisâthe anticipation, the way your patience was slipping, how your usual calm was fraying ever so slightly. Smiling, she took a single step forward, her movements slow and deliberate as she leaned in, raising her arm ever so slightly to reveal the wrench, but still keeping it just out of your reach.
With a challenging gaze, she murmured, âOh, this? You need this, donât you?â Her voice was soft, teasing, pushing you just a little more, daring you to take it from her.
The serious look in your eyes sent a shiver down Kyujin's spine, though it did nothing to deter her; instead, it only made her pulse race faster. She had you right on the edge, that threshold she loved to push past. The thrill bubbled up inside her, electric and relentless, as she took a small, teasing step back, widening her smile in silent challenge.
Come on, heart racing as she looked up at you, her gaze mischievous, what are you going to do?
You held her gaze, jaw clenching just enough for her to see your patience slipping. Taking a step forward, you spoke slowly, a deadly calm in your tone that sent a thrill down her spine. âIâm going to count to three,â you said, your voice dangerously level, each word firm and steady. âAnd if you donât hand it over by then, youâre going to regret it.â
Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing like a drumbeat as she bit her lip, clutching the wrench tighter behind her back. This was the moment sheâd been waiting for, the moment where your resolve would break and sheâd finally see you snap. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, anticipation building like a thunderstorm. Her breaths came faster, excitement mingling with a tinge of apprehension. You were so close to breakingâso close.
âOneâŠâ you started, your gaze locked on hers, unwavering.
Her pulse quickened, breath catching as her mind raced, weighing whether to push just a little further. She felt the rush of adrenaline surging through her veins as she watched you, waiting, her heartbeat a dizzying tempo in her ears. Not yet, she thought, barely holding back a grin. Just a little more.
âTwoâŠâ The tone in your voice darkened, the tension thick enough that she felt it pressing down on her, making her body tingle with both anticipation and thrill.
Her stomach flipped as her body responded to the weight of the moment, an exhilarating thrill sparking through her as she kept her grip firm on the wrench. She wanted to see just how far she could go, to push you to the very edge beforeâ
âThrââ
âOkay, okay!â Kyujin laughed, pulling the wrench out from behind her back, her eyes gleaming as she flashed you a cheeky grin. âHere, happy?â
You took the wrench from her hand, your expression hard to read as you inspected it briefly. Your jaw clenched as you placed it back on the workbench with a bit more force than usual, the sound echoing through the garage. She watched you, her heart still racing, her body buzzing from the thrill of the game. Sheâd pushed you, teased youâbut it wasnât quite enough. She could see it in your expression: you were close, yet still holding on, your self-control just barely intact.
What will it take to finally push him over the edge?
Her gaze drifted back to the workbench, and her eyes landed on an older, more worn-looking wrench lying near the edge. Unlike the others, this one seemed different, cared for and used over the years. Curiosity pulled her in, and before she realized what she was doing, she reached out, her fingers closing around it. The metal felt cool and heavy, its weight more substantial than the others. She spun it absentmindedly between her fingers, the texture rough against her skin, as she continued to watch you, her mind still caught up in the thrill of pushing you to your limits.
Then, before she could register what was happening, the wrench slipped from her fingers.
Clank.
The metallic sound rang out sharply, filling the silence of the garage as it bounced against the hard floor. Her eyes widened in horror, her gaze shooting downward to the wrench lying at her feet. A small chip had broken off the side, the tiny piece of metal sitting on the floor beside it.
Her heart sank.
Oh noâŠ
You went completely still, your entire posture rigid. Slowly, with an almost terrifying calm, you turned to look at her, your eyes narrowing as they landed on the damaged wrench at her feet. The weight of your gaze made her stomach drop, the realization settling heavily within her. This time, she knew sheâd gone too far.
âKyujinâŠâ you said, voice low and controlled, a chill in your tone that made her chest tighten. You didnât call her Jagiya now, not with the usual affection. The use of her name sent a clear messageâthis wasnât a game anymore.
âI⊠I didnât mean toâŠâ she stammered, her voice trembling as her mind scrambled for words. âI didnât knowââ
You knelt down, picking up the chipped wrench with careful hands, your expression hardening as you turned it over, inspecting the damage with a cold, quiet intensity. âThis was my dadâs,â you said, voice tight, each word laced with restrained emotion. âOne of the few things I have left from him. And now itâs chipped because you couldnât stop being a brat.â
The words struck her hard, guilt flooding her as the weight of what sheâd done settled in. She hadnât known how much this wrench meant to you, hadnât realized the sentimental value it held. âOppa, Iâm so sorry,â she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. âI didnât mean to chip it⊠I didnât knowâ
You cut her off with a steady, disappointed look. âI warned you,â you said, your voice flat but brimming with frustration. âI gave you all these chances, and you didnât listen. You wanted my attention so badly? Well, now you have it.â
Before she could react, you reached out, your hand firm yet gentle as you took her wrist, guiding her toward the low bench in the corner of the garage. Her heart raced, a blend of apprehension and regret flooding her as you sat down and pulled her gently but firmly across your lap. She felt the reality of the situation settling inâsheâd crossed the line, and now she was about to face the consequences.
âOppa please, Iâm sorryâŠâ she whimpered softly, her voice fragile, barely above a whisper. âI didnât mean toâŠâ
âSorry,â you replied, your tone unyielding, âthatâs always what you say after youâve gone too far. But this time, sorry isnât enough.â With one smooth motion, you lifted the hem of her skirt, exposing her, and tugged her cute pink printed panties down to her thighs, leaving her bare and vulnerable. She squirmed slightly, but your hand pressed firmly against her lower back, holding her in place as her heart hammered in her chest. âYou need to learn your lesson.â
Kyujin lay across your lap, the weight of your words sinking in as guilt and anticipation mixed within her. The lighthearted playfulness from before had vanished, replaced by a sobering awareness of just how far she had pushed you. Each breath felt heavy as she lay there, exposed and vulnerable, her mind spinning as she finally realized the full extent of what she had done.
âI⊠I really am sorry,â she murmured, her voice small, each word filled with remorse as she lay still, her heart racing.
Your voice was steady, firm, with a touch of kindness beneath it that somehow both reassured and unsettled her. âHow many spanks do you think you deserve?â you asked, your tone calm, yet carrying an edge that made her pulse quicken.
Kyujinâs breath hitched as she considered your question, her mind a swirl of emotions. Her cheeks flushed deeply with both embarrassment and anxiety as the silence stretched between you, heightening the tension in the room. She swallowed, looking down, and then whispered, âT-Ten?â Her voice was small, uncertain, as she glanced at you, silently hoping that her answer might soften your resolve.
But you shook your head slowly, letting out a low chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine. âToo low,â you replied, your tone almost teasing, yet leaving no room for negotiation. âLetâs double it. You deserve twenty, and youâre going to count every single one.â
The words settled over her, heavy and electrifying, as anticipation twisted her stomach into tight knots. Twenty. Her breaths came quicker, an intoxicating mix of apprehension and excitement building within her. The gravity of what lay ahead sank in, yet beneath the tension, a thrill pulsed through her, unmistakable and undeniable.
Without further preamble, you delivered the first spankâa sharp, stinging impact that shot through her like a lightning bolt. The suddenness of it stole her breath, and the hot sting radiated through her cheeks, the heat blooming beneath your hand. âO-One,â she gasped, her voice shaky, each syllable carrying the echo of the slap that lingered on her skin, flooding her senses.
You didnât hesitate, bringing down a second spank, harder than the first. âTwo,â she whimpered, the sting intensifying, an electric heat that made her squirm involuntarily, her bodyâs reaction beyond her control. The pain built, sharpened, sending a fiery ache through her, a throbbing warmth settling deep within her.
Another spank landed, this time on her opposite cheek, sending a fresh wave of stinging heat through her body. âT-Three⊠Iâm sorryâ she breathed out, her heart racing as the sensation spread, igniting her nerves. Her apology came almost on instinct, the words spilling from her lips as the intensity left her more vulnerable with each passing second.
The rhythm continued, a steady and unyielding cadence that grew with each strike, each spank bringing her closer to the edge. As she counted up to âTen,â her voice came in breathless gasps, each number growing softer as her body arched against the sting, a mixture of pain and something more primal beginning to settle within her. The sensations blurred, the pain mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration, her breaths quick and shallow as her skin flushed hot.
With each spank, her awareness sharpened, the heat between her legs building in a slow, undeniable ache that surprised her. By the time she reached âFifteen,â her body trembled with need, her entire being caught in the edge of pain and an unexpected, growing desire. Each strike seemed to deepen the ache within her, intensifying until it was impossible to ignore.
âEighteen,â Kyujin whimpered, her voice filled with a mix of embarrassment and something deeper as her body tensed under your hand. The ache between her thighs was undeniable, and the warmth on her reddened skin only seemed to amplify it. She lay folded across your lap, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts, as she bit her lip, trying to steady herself.
You let your hand linger, hovering above her flushed cheeks as you shifted, drawing out the anticipation. Then, with a teasing touch, you let your fingers brush over her core, feeling the warmth radiating from her. Kyujinâs breath hitched as your fingers skimmed over her wetness, and you murmured softly, âYouâre soaked. Youâre enjoying this, arenât you?â
A wave of embarrassment washed over her, her cheeks turning crimson as she shifted under your hand. She swallowed, then whispered, âPlease⊠can you touch me?â Her voice was soft, almost pleading.
You raised an eyebrow, considering her carefully before giving her an answer. âOnly if you can handle five more,â you replied, your tone both calm and challenging.
Kyujin hesitated, her body tensing as she considered, but the need inside her was too strong to resist. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. âYes⊠I can take it.â
Without further delay, you delivered the nineteenth spank, the sharp sound filling the room as her body arched forward with a soft gasp. She whispered the number under her breath, her voice quivering as she counted, bracing herself. Each smack that followed left her trembling, her grip on the edge of the chair tightening.
âTwenty,â she breathed, her voice almost breaking as she melted into the sensation. You allowed your hand to linger, gently tracing along her tender skin, before resuming with a steady, controlled pace. Her body rocked slightly with each spank, her soft gasps punctuating the silence.
You allowed a momentary caress, just enough to keep her yearning, then raised your hand once more. âTwenty-one,â you counted, your hand connecting with her skin as her body jerked forward. Her breath hitched, the sensation sending a fresh wave of need through her.
âtwenty-threeâŠâ Each word grew softer, her voice barely above a whisper, her resolve melting under your unrelenting touch.
When the final count, âTwenty-five,â fell from her lips, her body seemed to go limp, her breathing uneven as she lay across your lap, completely vulnerable. You gave her a moment, letting the silence stretch as she caught her breath, her muscles slowly relaxing.
Then, as she lay there, she looked back over her shoulder, her voice soft. âI⊠Iâm sorry about the wrench,â she murmured, her tone filled with genuine regret. âI didnât know it was so important.â She hesitated, her cheeks flushed as the regret in her voice was unmistakable.
Instead of answering, you slipped one finger along her folds, feeling her warmth and wetness as you pressed forward gently. Kyujin gasped, her hips instinctively pressing back into your touch. You maintained a steady, gentle rhythm, letting her feel every deliberate stroke as her body began to respond. Her breaths came in soft, shallow pants, and her fingers clutched at your leg, anchoring herself.
âOh⊠ahâŠâ she gasped softly, her voice trembling as she whispered, âThank youâŠâ Her body pressed back to meet each slow movement, her hips shifting as you continued, each gentle thrust pulling her deeper into the moment. You could feel her relax and tense with each stroke, her body melting into the rhythm you set.
As her breaths turned into soft, needy moans, you kept up the slow, careful pace, her body responding to each precise movement. Her hips rocked gently, each motion matching your touch as she surrendered completely to the feeling. You could feel her grip tighten on your thigh, her fingers digging in as her voice turned to soft, breathy whispers. âPlease⊠donât stop,â she whimpered, her words almost lost in her shallow breathing.
After a few minutes, you introduced a second finger, pressing deeper as her body adjusted. Her response was immediateâa soft, broken cry escaped her as her hips shifted instinctively, her body fully giving in. âOhâŠâ she gasped, her voice raw with desire as you pressed further, finding a slow, steady rhythm that matched her every breath. She melted into each careful thrust, her breaths growing louder as her hands clung tightly to your leg, her body rocking over your lap with each deliberate movement.
âAh⊠yesâŠâ she moaned, her voice breathless as she matched your pace, her hips moving in perfect sync. Her body seemed to come alive, every small movement intensifying the need building inside her. You maintained a calm, unhurried rhythm, drawing her closer and closer, her breathing quickening as her moans turned to desperate, trembling whimpers.
Sensing she was on the edge, you leaned down, your voice soft near her ear. âHold on to me,â you murmured, letting her know she could fully let go. Her grip tightened around your thigh, her body tensing as she clung to you, her muscles tight with anticipation.
Then, as she reached her breaking point, you gave her a quick smack across her tender cheek, the jolt making her gasp, her body shuddering in response. Without pausing, you gave a gentle but firm pinch to her clit, increasing the intensity as you delivered one last, firm smack.
Kyujinâs entire body arched as the climax overtook her, a raw, breathless scream escaping her lips as the waves of release washed over her. She quivered uncontrollably, her legs shaking as she rode the intensity, her fingers clinging to your thigh with a fierce grip, holding on as the pleasure pulsed through her, her voice breaking into soft, gasping cries. Her entire body shuddered, each wave leaving her breathless until, finally, she collapsed, her body going slack as the sensations ebbed.
With a gentleness that surprised her, you began to caress her tender cheeks, âSuch a good girlâ you coo, the words soft and affectionate with your touch soothing the ache as you carefully pulled her panties back up and lifted her off your lap. Her legs were shaky, her body still buzzing with need, as she clung to you, her head nestled against your shoulder as you led her slowly to the bedroom.
Once there, you laid her down carefully on her stomach, your hands supporting her as her heart rate slowly began to settle. You lifted her skirt again, her breath catching as she felt the cool air against her heated skin, a shiver running through her at the sharp contrast. She tensed, expecting another touch, another swat, but instead, your hand rested softly on her back, grounding her.
You leaned down, your lips trailing soft, featherlight kisses along her red, sensitive skin, each touch a gentle balm for the stinging heat that lingered. Slowly, you pressed tender kisses across her cheeks, each one a silent apology, a reassurance for the discomfort she had felt. Your lips moved down, tracing over her thighs, lingering where her skin was still warm, before trailing up along her back, leaving a path of warmth that melted away the ache. As you reached her neck, you pressed a gentle kiss, pausing there as if grounding her with your presence.
Kyujin shivered beneath your touch, her breath catching with each kiss as she felt you move over her. The warmth of your kisses soothed her, easing away the ache that had built in her body. Though the arousal still simmered within her, your touch began to calm the frustration sheâd felt, replacing it with a comforting warmth. Each kiss seemed to melt away the remaining tension, coaxing her into a soft, quiet relief.
You pulled back slightly, your voice a low murmur as you said, âIâll be right back,â and moved to stand. But as you took a step, Kyujinâs hand reached out, her fingers clutching softly, almost desperately, at your arm. âWait, stop,â she whispered, her voice fragile, a hint of fear threading through her words. âPlease donât goâŠâ
You turned back instantly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, the warmth of your lips a gentle reassurance. âIâll be right back, baby,â you murmured softly. âJust getting the lotion.â
Kyujin nodded slowly, her fingers relaxing as you spoke, feeling a warmth spread through her at hearing you call her âbabyâ again. It softened her, brought her back to a sense of comfort, and she watched you leave the room, her heart still racing but now pulsing with a softer, calmer beat.
When you returned, you settled beside her, pouring a small amount of lotion into your hands and rubbing them together to warm it before reaching toward her. As your hands gently applied the lotion to her sore cheeks, she felt an initial sting, the cool lotion biting against her heated skin, but it quickly shifted to relief. She let out a soft sigh as you carefully massaged the lotion into her, your hands moving in slow, tender circles that soothed and relaxed her.
With every stroke of your fingers against her skin, she felt herself melting deeper into the bed, the lingering tension and ache gradually easing away as you continued to massage her cheeks with thoughtful care. Your touch was tender, each movement slow and purposeful, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink fully into the moment, the warmth of your hands grounding her. Her body relaxed, the warmth of your hands dissipating the residual sting as she sighed softly, her entire being unwinding under your touch.
When you finished, you lay down beside her, gathering her into your arms and pulling her close. She nestled against you, her head resting on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, the comfort of your embrace replacing the lingering soreness with a deep sense of peace. The warmth of your body against hers soothed her, your presence surrounding her like a protective shield that let her finally relax.
âOppa, Iâm sorry,â she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she looked up at you, eyes full of sincerity. âI wasnât thinking... I really didnât mean to hurt you.â
You kissed the top of her head gently, letting your hand stroke through her hair with a reassuring touch. âI know, Jagiya,â you murmured softly, each word brimming with understanding. âItâs okay. I forgave you. Weâre done with that now.â
She blinked, her eyes beginning to tear up, the weight of guilt still heavy in her chest. âBut⊠it was your dadâs,â she whispered, her voice breaking as she thought of how much that wrench had meant to you. âIâm so, so sorryâŠâ
Noticing the tears pooling in her eyes, you gently cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the tears as they fell, each touch soft and full of care. âShh, baby,â you whispered, pressing a series of gentle kisses across her cheeks, her forehead, and her lips. âItâs okay, donât beat yourself up over it, okay? I know you didnât mean it.â
Kyujin took a shaky breath, feeling the tightness of guilt in her chest slowly ease as your comforting words settled over her. She nuzzled closer, burying her face against your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart beneath her cheek. âThank you for taking care of me,â she whispered, her voice soft and brimming with affection, each word carrying the relief that your forgiveness had brought her.
You wrapped your arms around her tighter, your voice a soothing murmur as you replied, âNo matter what happens, Iâll always take care of you.â You let your hands stroke down her back, your gentle embrace surrounding her, creating a space of warmth and safety.
They lay there together, wrapped in a quiet intimacy that soothed every frayed edge of the evening. The tension and pain faded away, replaced by the comfort of your presence, the feel of your warmth wrapping around her. Exhaustion crept up slowly, the weight of the day settling over her as her eyes grew heavy, her breathing slowing as she felt your steady heartbeat beneath her. Gradually, she drifted off to sleep in your arms, feeling safe, loved, and completely forgiven, a peaceful smile softening her features as she relaxed fully into your embrace.
The next morning, Kyujin awoke to the soft light of dawn streaming gently through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. She stirred slowly, feeling the tender throb that lingered as a soft reminder of the night before. Every small movement brought an ache, but the warmth and comfort of knowing things were right between them filled her with peace.
Turning carefully, she found herself face-to-face with you, your arm still wrapped around her waist. You were fast asleep, chest rising and falling steadily, each breath soft against her skin. She gazed at you, her face softened in the peaceful quiet of sleep, and a gentle smile tugged at her lips. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, she leaned in, pressing a tiny, featherlight kiss there.
She pulled back just enough to look at you, feeling her heart flutter. Then, barely resisting a giggle, she leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your cheek, nose and another just above your brow. Each kiss was a gentle attempt to wake, a playful way of pulling you from your dreams.
After a moment, you feel Kyujin's soft kisses, feather-light on your face, and slowly your eyes flutter open. A warm, sleepy smile forms on your lips as you take her in, a quiet chuckle escaping you. âGood morning,â you murmur, your voice husky with sleep, gaze full of affection as you look at her.
Kyujin beams, pleased with herself, a sparkle of delight in her eyes. âGood morning,â she whispers back, snuggling closer to you, her warmth melting into yours as you instinctively tighten your arm around her, pulling her even closer.
âHow are you feeling?â you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep as you gently hold Kyujin close.
She winces slightly as she stretches, the soreness from the night before apparent, but she meets your gaze, her voice soft. âSore⊠but okay.â
A quiet chuckle escapes you as you pull her close to your chest. âYou were brave last night,â you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. âIâm proud of you.â
Your words bring a warm glow to her cheeks, and you feel her nuzzle even closer, a sense of safety and love filling the quiet space between you. But as you start to sit up, she lets out a small sound of discomfort, instinctively reaching out, her fingers grasping onto you.
âDonât leaveâŠâ she mumbles, her voice soft, as she clings to you, making it clear she wants to stay close.
You laugh gently, lifting her effortlessly into your arms and holding her tight. You kiss the top of her head, your hand stroking her back in slow, soothing motions. âAlright, baby,â you say, a playful note in your voice, âhow about we make breakfast together?â
Her legs wrap around your waist, her arms resting around your shoulders as you carry her out of bed. She sighs softly, contented, her head settling on your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. Once there, you try to set her down on a chair, but her grip tightens, and she shakes her head with a soft, stubborn whine.
âCâmon, baby,â you tease, smiling as you glance down at her. âI have to make breakfast.â
âStay with me,â she murmurs, pressing closer, unwilling to let go.
You chuckle warmly, giving in as you move around the kitchen, her arms still wrapped around you. âToast or cereal?â you ask, looking down with a smile.
âToast, please,â she replies, shifting slightly and wincing as she adjusts to the soreness.
You slide two slices of bread into the toaster, then wrap your arms around her waist, holding her close. Your hands move in soothing circles along her back, slipping down to massage her gently. She lets out a quiet whimper, relaxing into you and wrapping her arms more snugly around your neck.
She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then trails another along your jawline, her lips brushing against your skin with a warmth that lingers. âThank you for taking care of me,â she whispers, her voice full of warmth.
You soften, meeting her gaze with affection before pressing a kiss to her forehead. âAlways, my love,â you murmur. âItâs my favorite thing to do.â
A smile lights her face as she rests her head on your shoulder, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along your neck and through your hair. When the toast pops, you quickly butter each slice and hand one to her. She takes a bite, savoring the warmth as she stays nestled against you. Every so often, she leans in to press a kiss to your cheek or nuzzle your neck, her soft smile matching yours as you share the quiet moment.
You chuckle, rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back as you tease, âYouâre clingy this morning.â
She giggles, taking another bite before leaning in again to kiss your cheek. âI just donât want you to leave,â she whispers playfully, her voice soft.
âIâm not going anywhere,â you promise, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as you hold her close, the warmth between you as comforting as the morning light filtering in around you.
After breakfast, you stand up from your chair with Kyujin still in your arms. You begin carrying her to the bathroom as she nestles against you, her head resting gently on your shoulder. Inside, you set her down and start the bath, testing the temperature until itâs perfectly warmâjust right to ease the ache in her muscles. You glance over at her, meeting her eyes as you begin to help her undress, your touch lingering on each piece, slow and gentle. She watches you quietly, her gaze soft but thoughtful, as if thereâs something sheâs been holding back.
Once sheâs undressed, you guide her into the bath, lowering her carefully into the warm water. She releases a sigh, her body sinking into the soothing heat. The calm stillness in the room is almost palpable, broken only by the occasional gentle splash of water as you pour a cup over her shoulders, letting it cascade down her back. She stays quiet, watching you intently, and you notice the slight crease in her brow, the way her lips press together as if deep in thought. With each tender motion, you sense her hesitation growing, as if sheâs contemplating something sheâs not quite ready to voice.
You reach for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your hands and working it into her hair, your fingers moving in slow, comforting circles along her scalp. Kyujinâs eyes close, and she leans into your touch, each gentle press of your fingertips lulling her into relaxation. But still, that quiet tension lingers in the way she holds herself, a shadow that hasnât fully eased.
As you massage the shampoo through her hair, her breaths deepen, but she doesnât speak, her expression softening and her shoulders relaxing under your hands. You lean over, dipping the cup into the water and preparing to rinse, but you canât ignore the way her eyes flicker, as if a weight is pressing on her heart.
âWhatâs on your mind, baby?â you ask softly, your voice barely above a murmur, your hands still gentle in her hair.
She hesitates, her lashes fluttering before she looks away, her voice almost a whisper. âI⊠I feel like you forgave me too soon.â
You pause, the water warm against your hands as you take in her words. She glances down, her expression clouded, her fingers tracing the waterâs surface as if searching for the right way to explain. âI was careless. I didnât think⊠about what the wrench could mean to you,â she murmurs, voice thick with emotion. âI really didn't mean to Opaa...â
Your hands rest in her hair for a beat, then slowly you tip her chin up with gentle fingers, meeting her gaze. âJagiyaâ you murmur, your eyes soft, âI forgave you because I know it was a mistake. You didnât mean to hurt me, and you regret it. Thatâs all that matters to me.â
She looks away, her cheeks warming under your gaze, guilt flickering across her features. âBut it was important to you,â she says, her voice trembling slightly. âI should have been more careful⊠You deserved more time to be mad. I just⊠donât want to hurt you again.â
With the cup still in hand, you brush your thumb over her cheek, letting her feel the warmth of your touch as you cradle her face. âWe all make mistakes, Jagiya,â you say gently, your voice a steady reassurance. âYouâve already shown me how much you care. Thatâs all I need to know.â
Her eyes well up as she leans into your touch, her shoulders easing as if a weight has finally lifted. She looks at you, her voice breaking softly. âThank you for being so patient with me⊠even when I donât deserve it.â
You smile softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. As you continue rinsing the shampoo from her hair, you press a tender kiss to her forehead, letting her know, without words, that sheâs understood and forgiven.
âYou deserve all the care I can give,â you murmur, your voice filled with quiet reassurance. You rest your hand on her cheek, brushing a thumb along her damp skin, letting her feel the warmth and steadiness in your touch. Her eyes close, leaning into the comfort you offer, each gentle stroke dispelling her lingering worries. As you rinse the last of the shampoo from her hair, her expression softens, tension melting away as she takes a deep, steadying breath.
In that moment, you hold her gaze, letting her see the depth of your patience and the unreserved love reflected there. The weight sheâd been carrying seems to dissolve, replaced by a sense of safety and acceptance that surrounds her like the warmth of the bath. She reaches up, placing her hand over yours, and as you stay there, quiet and close, she knows, fully, that she is forgiven and loved beyond measure.
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#girl group smut#reader insert#male reader#kinkvember#kinkvember 2024#nmixx#nmixx smut#nmixx jang kyujin#nmixx kyujin#jang kyujin#jang kyujin smut#kyuijin#kyujin smut
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when you slap them
hurt/comfort, established relationship
Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Kazuha, Dainsleif, Baizhu
Wriothesley
At first shocked, Wriothesley slowly turns his face towards you. There is an apologetic expression in his eyes. His pride dies out before he admits nonchalantly:
âFine, I deserved that.â
He leaves you temporarily, assuming that youâd like to not see him for a while. He doesn't know if thereâs anything needs to be said.
Tartaglia
âOwâ, he says, dramatically, before turning to face you. His cheek is burning pale crimson, while youâre staring daggers at him.
Tartaglia rubs his wounded face, though his pride is no less wounded, but he is about to forget his pride for a while.
âI meanâokayâ I might be a dork. But easy, easy on me!â
Neuvillette
The judge is very principal about what he touches and what touches him, and when you deliver that ruthless slap, that seems to ground him, Neuvillette only sighs exhaustively.
âI predicted that you would disagree. You should know, the thought of misunderstanding with you plagues me enormously. But seeing you ground me like thisâI must have said something really abominable.â
Neuvillette doesn't even touch the reddened cheek, he wears your mark on him proudly and unconditionally.
Pantalone
His head is thrown to side as you deliver a harsh slap with dry expression on your face and dreadful precision of your target. In normal occasion, in a flirty interaction between you two, as in pre-relationship, dragging you through his taunting Pantalone would have simply chuckled and stood selfishly with a smug smirk. Yet the circumstances are different now, and his attitude changes as well. He places his gloved hand on his cheek, his eyes shut.
âOf course you would do thatâ, he gives you a look full of hesitation and apology, but does not say the apology itself outloud. âAn amiable little reaction you have.â He walks away, preparing himself to bear with a little crimson mark on his cheek for a while. His face buried into the paperwork as much as possible to prevent his employees from unnecessary curious questions.
Ayato
Ayato lets out a tiny gasp at the slap, which does not guilt you into pitying him, since he has done quite wrong and coldly.
âWe shall discuss it later, at the dinner perhaps.â He gives you one last look, full of calculation as he tries to find a hint of frustration in your face, but only finds anger. He bows to you with pristine elegance and retreats to his chambers.
Capitano
âWhat is the meaning of this, woman?!â You wanted to slap him but the attempt did not go as smoothly as youâd like; Capitanoâs thick skin is hard to the touch and your hand appears bruised upon attacking him. Of course he is so strong, almost invincible, you can't even bring justice to him without hurting yourself.
âIf you just wanted to call me out, you could speak with your wordsâ, he looks at you, wincing slightly. âBut I must admit, the hit was good enough to make me feel punished.â
Dottore
Dottore catches your hand before you can deliver the slap, but you slap him with another one. Loudly gasping, Dottore expresses his utter resentment.
âSo bold, little brat. I don't know if I should feel sorry or impressed by your audacity.â
Dottore rubs his cheek with annoyance, not admitting his fault just yet, but muttering a curse under his breath.
âFuck, it stings.â
Alhaitham
You are the last person heâd expect to be hit by, however the motivation of your doing is clear for the both of you.
âFine. Shouldn't have said so, shouldnât haveâ, Alhaitham raises his apologetic, ashamed eyes and finds you walking away. âBut donât go now. I insist you talk to me first.â
Kazuha
Kazuhaâs cheek is reddened upon your slap and he bears with the sting nobly. For a few seconds he doesn't say anything, giving the heated ambience between you two way to cool down.
You sigh heavily, realising how rarely it is you are tempted to punish him. The misunderstandings between you are not a regular occurrence, but even such amiable man like Kazuha may be insufferable sometimes.Â
âLook, Iâm sorry. Okay?â He takes just one step towards you, his face calm but soft at the same time. âWhenever you are unhappy with my decisions, letâs talk them out. No violence next time.â
Dainsleif
He grits his teeth and groans. Dainsleif is not used to be shown disobedience, more so â having been humiliated like this. He felt fury bubbling inside him, almost like lava rushing through his veins. He wants to grab you by your neck and make you fall on your knees, not even dreaming of putting him into inferior position like that. But Dainsleif suffers and lets his anger subside.
âDonât start something you donât know consequences of.â
You give him one more irritated look and leave, Dainsleif slowly coming to realisation that, perhaps, he indeed said something too stupid.
Baizhu
A silent groan escapes pharmacistâs lips as you slap him over the conflict. He touches his cheek, giving you nothing but regretful look. The look is full of apology and insult, even. In the depths of his heart, he might have hoped that youâd spare him and solve the conflict more reasonably. But you are brought to the point of completely hitting him, which makes Baizhu think that the conflict was inevitable.
âI will be on reception, should you ever need me.â
#anime x female reader#anime x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x female reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x female reader#pantalone x you#pantalone x female reader#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia x female reader#capitano x reader#capitano x female reader#capitano x you#capitano x y/n#neuvillette x reader#pantalone x reader#ayato x you#ayato x reader#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#alhaitham x you#baizhu x you#dainsleif x you#dainsleif x reader#baizhu x reader
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â„ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader â„ word count | 4.4k â„ warning(s) | đ smut; fwb, angst w/ a happy ending, teasing, finger fucking, squirting, praise kink, frottage, dirty talk, pet names, commitment issues, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, dom!jk, idiots in love, misunderstandings â„ summary | after being stood up one too many times, you realize you're in love with jungkook. and that just won't do. â„ notes | istg i've re-written this more times than i care to count đ enjoy!
đ€ masterlist | inbox | AO3 đ€
cnt make it 2nite
The text is blunt - biting. No explanation offered, and certainly no false platitudes found in the lifeless string of black letters. Rather simple and straight to the point.
As you should have expected from Jungkook. He wasnât known for his verbosity, and even less so for his love of texting.
But as you chew the fat of your cheek, reading it over and over again in an attempt to glean some hidden meaning that isnât there, you admit to yourself - at least privately - thereâs no more avoiding the truth.
One thatâs been hovering over your shoulder for weeks like a shroud; an unwelcome guest you canât ignore anymore: Jungkookâs been avoiding you.
It shouldnât be surprising.
Moreover, it shouldnât hurt.
There shouldnât be an ache in your chest every time you see his contact or the plummet of your stomach when that inevitable excuse comes through.
In the end, he owes you nothing. The arrangement between you is casual, just a little fun between good friends.
It still fucking sucks though, you think, sucking your teeth.
Night thoroughly ruined before itâs begun, itâs only a matter of deciding how to respond now. In the past youâve used a plethora of options, but youâre stumped. Unsure how to correlate the level of hurt to the nature of your not-relationship.
Should you be petty, passive-aggressive, indifferent - or worst of all: honest?
Hah, no way. Iâd rather die.
Beside you, the bartender politely averts his gaze and busies himself with polishing a stack of pint glasses. Itâs a slow night, and thatâs saying something as this barâs a little hole in the wall.
Itâs never overly busy, which is one of the reasonâs itâs a favorite meeting spot of yours. The floors might be sticky, but the musicâs decent, the strobe lights they kick on after 10 PM arenât offensive enough to induce a migraine, and the drinks are cheap with a heavy pour.
Watching him work is impressive - and almost distracting enough for you to ignore the needle sharp ache taking root beneath your ribs, the churn of your stomach.
Humiliation burns hot, creeps up your neck to settle into the apples of your cheeks as youâre stood up.
Again.
It isnât the first time - it wonât be the last.
But it cuts deeper than all the rest combined, harder to shake off. You canât lie to yourself anymore. The growing distance between you throbs like an open wound, as if Jungkook himself plunged a hand into your chest.
Scooped out any tender, soft thing he could find and left you hollowed out. Drained.
Not taking his flakiness personally used to be so easy. And now⊠well.
Goddamnit. A palm scrubs over your decolletage roughly to soothe the throb of your heart. What the hell did you expect to happen, getting involved with Jeon Jungkook, huh?
Everything from his stupidly pretty eyes to the dangerous curl of his mouth, the thick soles of his boots to the lapels of his leather jacket scream walking red flag.
Never mind the fact his proclivities are an open secret among the group. Heâs never tried to hide his distaste for commitment. Finds it too monotonous. Predictable.
An eternally free soul much preferring to flit from one experience to the next, never shackled down for long. The Icarus of myth made flesh.
He runs through women like he runs through shoes, and you witnessed enough of the ensuing heartbreak and tears to be wary.
But knowing and feeling something are two very different things.
The dichotomy throws you off-kilter and finds you abandoned in a bar, once again, to choke on a regret so bitter you swear itâll burn a hole through your throat.
Whatâs going on with me, you think, this is nothing new. He does this all the time.
You used to get on so well.
Any initial misgivings faded away in the face of Jungkookâs blinding attention, his unfaltering kindness lurking just beneath that surface of grit and gravel.
Even after you fuck, he never acts any differently, as casual between the sheets as he is lounging on your couch.
It's been great, it's been enough - until now.
Just the thought of going back to your empty apartment, alone, only to wake up and fall back into Jungkookâs orbit tomorrow when he swings by with a half-assed apology on his lips, and your favorite drink in hand is enough to make your skin crawl.
Stomach twisting itself into knots, everything in you rebels against the sudden cold realization: nothing will change - least of all Jungkook.
Heâll continue to take-take-take.
You'll continue to give-give-give.
On and on you'll go; a distant star orbiting a black hole, losing little bits of itself until there's nothing left.
Then heâll leave your life as quickly as he entered it, a blurry after-image there and gone in the blink of an eye.
Fuck, I - I canât do this anymore, you think, a shiver rattling down your spine, Because IâŠ
An errant thought gains teeth, sinks them deep. Refuses to budge as an awful truth - one buried so deep you forgot it was there, ever lurking in the shadows - rises to the forefront of your mind.
And then --
Oh.
Itâs because I love him - because Iâm in love with him.
Suddenly it hurts to breathe, your lungs burning as you drown on the air itself. The steel band cinching around your ribs threatens to crack you open.
Your heart lurches in your chest, despair following swiftly to settle over your shoulders. Moreover, there is no one to blame except yourself.
Even if you want it to, it will never work out because loving Jungkook is to love the ghost of a long-forgotten memory.
And there are too many hurts to soothe, too many disappointments to name.
I canât believe I actually -- shit. You swipe a shaky hand over your forehead. When you swallow, a sour taste clings to the back of your tongue. Shouldâve known better.
You glance at your phone, the cursor blinking back at you mockingly. Shouldâve done a lot of things, I guess.
Now, you're in too deep.
Waiting without ever realizing you began to do so in the first place; a life on pause, surviving off scraps of half-measures and maybe's, what-ifs, and if only's.
Now, it's clear the only way out is through.
The time to let go is here.
You need to muster up some semblance of self, and work to untangle the threads of connection binding you together. You need space to rediscover the pieces of your heart you left with him.
How to live without the taste of his kiss, the clench of his muscles, the thrust of his cock.
A new life sans Jungkook which begins with a simple reply in place of everything you really want to say: ok.
Then you wave the bartender over.
He does you a kindness once more, pretending not to notice the tears brimming along your lower lash line. âYou ready to order?â he asks.
âUh, yeah - sorry, I wasâŠâ
His mouth twitches. You waver.
Then the screen of your phone lights up with a notification.
Refusing to look lest you cave, emotions too fresh -Â scraped raw and tender, you switch on DND and turn it face down where it will remain until you go home.
You're far too fragile (and sober) to think about reading Jungkookâs reply, let alone engage with him in any meaningful way.
âIâll take a double vodka cranberry.â
Maybe if you get drunk enough, you'll forget about the home he carved in your bones.
Bottoms up, bitch.
w8 nvm guys cnt make it
y/n?
i cn b ovr in 10
???
gn ttyt
hey, sorry. called it early.
wyd?
nothing much. you?
nm running some mtchs
cool, cool. you able to swing by today?
yeh b there in 30 :)
In hindsight, trying to have this conversation with Jungkook face to face isnât the brightest idea. But if anything, last night showed you every choice youâve made lately is a disaster waiting to happen.
Your lifeâs already a mess - and youâre hopelessly in love with a man thatâll never love you back - so whatâs another mistake added to a long string of misfortune.
So what if your hands tremble and your stomach churns as you unlock the door to let him in.
So what if he leans in for a kiss and you duck to the side, his lips brushing the slope of your cheek.
So what if he pauses and gives you a long, searching look before toeing off his shoes and offering you the drink he picked up on the way.
It canât get any worse, right?
Only the hungry, molten mixture of rage and rebellion fueling you thus far fizzles away the minute you see him head towards your bedroom with a wink.
Anguish and despair follows in its wake, nipping at your heels.
This is all youâll ever be to him, you remind yourself as you step into the room. A fun time. Nothing serious. You have to break it off.
You shoot him a tight smile. âDid you have a good night?â
Jungkook shrugs, glancing around at the decorations littering your dresser. âNah, not really.â His gaze slides to you, traveling from your head to your bare toes in a slow once over. âI definitely wouldâve had a better time with you.â
Swallowing roughly, you rub your hands over your arms and suddenly feel far too naked - exposed in your light summer dress. âHah,â you intone without humor, awkward and stilted. âProbably not. I was out by 11:30.â
âMm, thatâs not like you.â Jungkook hums, moving forward until heâs right in front of you. His hands reach for you, grabbing your wrists gently. His thumb strokes over your pulse point. âYouâre acting weird. Is there something you want to talk about, baby?â
Of course heâd notice.
It would be annoying if it wasnât so endearing. Jungkook always pays attention to the details, makes leaps of logic based on little more than quiet observations.
You stitch together a chuckle. âNothing gets past you, huh?â
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins, his lip ring dimpling the swell of his bottom lip. Your chests brush with every inhale, sharing space and breath.Â
âNothing,â he agrees.
Itâs torture. Itâs too intimate.
The glow of your overhead lamp highlights the sweep of his cheekbones, the curl of his lashes as he blinks slow and happy. The barely there impression of his body is too much.
You shrink back, clearing your throat.
âNo, donât do that. Where are you going?â
His eyes, shimmering with warmth, plead with you to stay, his shoulders curving towards you. A large palm settles over your shoulder, sparks igniting wherever he touches.
âStop hiding. You can talk to me about anything. Come on, I want to know whatâs going on in that pretty head of yours.â
Steeling your resolve, you inhale and exhale with a shudder. His expression is open, soft. You know it wonât last, and take a few seconds to commit how he looks in this moment to memory.
For all you know, this will be one of the last times youâll be this close to him again. At least until you can beat your feelings into submission.
And then you canât put it off anymore, unable to take the ginger strokes of his fingers. The calming caresses as if he thinks youâre something precious. Quick like ripping off a band-aid, otherwise the words will never get past the bend of your throat.
âI want to stop.â
You catch the way his eyes darken, sharpen in the dim overhead light. He knows exactly what youâre talking about, but his half-smile never falters.
Of course, he refuses to make this easy on you. To acknowledge this is happening. Heâs always been a greedy man; wants what he canât have, and destroys what he does.
âStop what?â Jungkook says. âYouâre gonna have to be more specific than that, baby.â
âKook,â you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. âYou know what I mean. I just - I canât do,â your voice cracks, a hand motioning to the space between you, âthis anymore.â
A vein throbs on the side of his neck, his jaw working in response. Muscles tense and release with every grit of his teeth. He asks, âYou gonna tell me why, huh? Or are you just going to ditch me and act like it didnât mean something?â
âKookâŠâ
Thereâs a certain grief that canât be spoken, gnarled roots burrowing deep in your chest. A sense of loss so keenly felt it almost steals your breath.
You wish this wasnât happening, you wish you could take it all back but this pantomime of a relationship isnât fair to you. Not anymore. And you knew this conversation wouldnât be fun, but Jungkookâs staunch denial still manages to surprise you.
âIt didnât mean anything though,â you say.
At least, not to you, you think. To me, it meant the world.
-- And thatâs the problem.
You need to stop whatever this is between you from building. Heâs already shown he doesnât share your desire for more in a multitude of ways. Heâs been avoiding you for a reason, whether he was consciously aware of your feelings or not.
Undoubtedly, you trust him with your life but not your heart.
As sweet as he is, has been, he wonât treat it gently. Not through any intentional ill-will but because he canât contain his own commitment issues let alone make room for yours.
Itâs better this way.
Let what you have - had - stay a memory unmarred by the ugliness of your hurt feelings and bitter disappointments.
Jungkookâs shoulders draw up towards his ears, his gaze glacial as his hands slide away from you. âIs there a reason youâre done with me now?â
Shadows lurk in the depths of his eyes, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. Everything about him looks weighted down.
âWell, is there? I mean, shit, I think Iâve earned an answer after all the time we spent together.â
Your heart breaks for him, everything in you calling out to close the gap and offer him comfort. But you canât. You donât trust yourself to touch him without wanting more than your heart can bear.
âIâm not done with you,â you say. âI would never do that to you, Kook. I just - I canât be with you like that anymore, thatâs all. I need space but Iâll still be around, I promise.â
The glare he shoots your way freezes the blood in your veins. âCut the bullshit,â he snarls. âTell.me.why.â
You avert your gaze, arms wrapping around your chest. âWhy does that - I -â
You only had one rule at the very beginning of this mess: if thereâs someone youâre serious about, you stop fucking. It comes as a handy lie - a believable excuse thatâll stop any further questioning.
You donât think you have the fortitude if Jungkook keeps pressing you, cracking under the weight of your grief and the anger in his eyes like fine china.
âI think I - I think I want to start looking for a boyfriend again.â
An expression flashes across his face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. But thereâs no doubt he recognizes it for the goodbye itâs supposed to be.
This is it, you think.
You can put what you had to rest and move on, a memory on a shelf youâll dust off years down the line when the hurt isnât so prevalent. And hopefully, with time, you can relearn how to be friends.
Though the strange gleam to his eyes sends a prickle of apprehension down your spine, and then you find yourself being manhandled as he snaps forward like a snake coiled to strike.
Air flees your lungs as Jungkook shoves you with a firm palm, your feet stumbling over themselves as you trip backwards into your bed frame.
Wood knocks into the backs of your knees, and you fold like a stack of cards. The sheets puff out around you, the scent of your laundry detergent tickling your nose.
You blink at the textured ceiling, mouth agape as you try to process what happened.
The empty space above you doesnât stay vacant, Jungkook quickly crowding you into the mattress with his weight as he settles over top of your body.
He molds himself to your front, his firm hips slotting themselves between your thighs. Broad palms, warm and calloused, skim your sides and ruck up the skirt of your dress as he reaches under you to grip the soft globes of your ass.
He yanks you into him, your pelvises slotting together. You whine before you can stop yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the heat of his body.
Teeth scrape along the delicate skin of your neck, the sharp pricks of pleasure-pain coaxing a shiver down your spine.
Lips brush the shell of your ear, his minty breath puffing against the side of your face as he speaks, low and husky, âSo thatâs it, huh?â
âWhat--!â
Teeth nip your earlobe, and you wince.
âMy girl thinks sheâs going to leave me for someone else?â Jungkook snorts. âLike Iâd ever let that fucking happen.â
âIâm not your girl.â
You squirm, a bolt of awareness slicing through you as your body responds to his proximity, the weight of him over you electrifying. Liquid desire blooms behind your navel, uncomfortable and unwelcome.
âI never was.â
Blunt nails dig into the fat of your ass, and a cruel mouth latches onto the corner of your jaw. âAh, is that right?â Jungkook asks, the rumble of his voice vibrating through your torso, your nipples tightening as they drag over the plains of his chest. âYouâre not my girl?â
You swallow, and ignore the throb of your clit as the line of his cock ruts into you. âIâm not your girl, Jungkook.â
âIf youâre not my girl,â he grinds into the cradle of your hips, teasing - taunting, âthen why the fuck are you so wet?â
Keening, you twitch, involuntarily rocking up into the firm pressure of his shaft. The angleâs just right, spreading your folds beneath the thin cotton of your panties and giving your neglected clit the perfect stimulation.
Exposing your soaked core to the chill of your room as your body warms with mortification.
Jungkook hums in approval, giving the side of your neck a sloppy kiss followed by a stinging nip. âYou think some nobody can fuck you better than me?â
âThatâs not what I - ffuck!â
Heat pools low in your belly, blood pumping fast. Youâre steadily losing control, the aborted rolls of your hips increasing in frequency.
âAnswer me.â
A sharp burst of copper floods your mouth, your skin splitting open with how hard youâre chewing on it. Blood clings to the swell of your bottom lip, a ruby red bead you lick away with a nervous tongue.
Sweat dappled your brow, and itâs getting harder and harder to ignore the molten desire curdling your stomach.
The softness of your body knows the hardness of his, every curve has a matching divot. The heady, pleasant scent of his cologne floods your lungs with every stuttered inhale.
Your senses are overwhelmed as he surrounds you.
âShit, Kook, please,â you plead, hands tangling in the sheets by your head.
Youâre not sure what youâre asking for but at the same time, youâre not sure how you ended up here. Again.
âI donât know what you want from me.â
This was supposed to be an amenable end to a dubious affair. Itâs anything but.
âI want you to tell me who your cunt belongs to.â
Fingers inch down to tease along the soft flesh of your inner thighs, and play with the elastic of your panties.
You tremble, gooseflesh dimpling the exposed skin of your arms as knuckles brush over the length of your soaked pussy.
Your clit pulses, the pressure enough to tease.
âCome on, baby,â Jungkook coaxes, working his way beneath the fabric clinging to your core, âtell me youâre my girl.â
His cock nestles into the crook of your hip, hot and heavy through his jeans as a darkened patch blooms across the denim crotch. The sticky wetness of his pre-cum smearing into your skin as arousal swells, crashing over you.
Leaving you a whimpering, trembling mess in the cage of his arms.
âYou just have to say it - say youâre my girl and Iâll be so, so good to you.â His breath warms the shell of your ear. âAll you have to do is say it, and Iâll make you cum so hard you see stars.â
Jungkook doesnât give you a chance to cobble together a response, sliding a thick finger through your sticky folds and into your needy pussy just as your lips part.
All words leave you, your mind wiped clean as a low, broken cry echoes out into the room. Swallowed up by the sounds of city life outside your apartment as he works to stretch you open.
You clamp down at the sudden fullness, walls tight and fluttering around his finger like they would be around his cock.
âFuck, baby,â he groans. âYou always feel so soft and wet.â
Whining in agreement, you give up any pretense of resistance, letting primal desire chase away the despair, the guilt that threatens to choke you. Wiping your mind clean of any thoughts until the only thing that remains is the thrust of his fingers and the ache in your cunt.
Your hands slip, scrambling for purchase with sweaty palms. âJ-Jungkook!â
Your knees tremble where they dig into his sides, air rushing from you in heavy pants as the space between your bodies heats up. You know you wonât last long, already hanging on the edge.
Never in a million years did you expect to be so turned on by Jungkookâs rough behavior. He usually treats you like something delicate.
Though he holds no such compunction now, raw in his desperate desire to make you cum.
Jungkook peppers kisses onto whatever skin he can reach, spreading your thighs wider with his torso. His knuckles strain against the fabric of your panties, stretching out the cotton and ruining them forevermore as he slips another finger into you.
Then his dark head bows, catching your gaze, and he says, âHold on.â
Barely seconds after you anchor yourself to his shoulders, he starts finger fucking you to within an inch of your life. His forearm ripples with strength, the movements of his fingers pressing and rubbing against all the right spots. Curling up to massage at your g-spot until youâre shaking beneath him with hitched breaths.
âShit, shit,â you gasp, eyes rolling back as your toes flex against his side, âKook, baby, please donât stop.â
He huffs a laugh, dark and amused. âWouldnât ever do that to you, baby.â
âSâgood - I - Iâm close.â
You sob, tears brimming along your lash line. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your pussy ring in your ears, as embarrassing as it is arousing. Heâs making you gush, slick wetting your inner thighs, dribbling down your ass to stain the sheets.
âSo close, gonna - hnnng - gonna cum.â
âYeah, thatâs it. Just like that, baby. Give me that squirt.â
You shake your head. âI canât - I canât!â
If you could, youâd suspend time so this moment never ends. The finality of your arrangement hovering just on the other side of pleasure.
In the back of your mind, you know Jungkookâs only behaving this way because heâs jealous. Angry. He doesnât mean it, and this is a mistake.
Itâll only hurt you in the long run but youâll take what you can get.
After all, this is the last time youâll be together like this.
âNo,â he shushes, dropping a kiss to your sweaty brow, âNo, donât lie. I know you can. Iâll make you.â
Thereâs no escape.
He refuses to let you escape, using his weight to keep you pinned as he spreads his fingers open inside you, twisting and fucking so deep you feel a twinge behind your navel.
And then youâre right there, crashing over the edge as the bubble of pleasure bursts, crackling through your limbs.
You cum harder than you ever have before. Nails sinking into his shoulders with a hiss as a wounded, broken wail scrapes its way out of your throat.
Your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deeper as a rush of cum gushes from you in spurts. Your ears ring with white noise, and youâre vaguely aware of the fact your hands have gone numb.
For several long moments, you float with a head full of cotton, only rejoining the atmosphere when warmth dribbles down your ass in sticky rivulets of squirt.
Jungkookâs arm is curled around your waist, holding you close as his nose nuzzles into the side of your head. Tender lips dust kisses over your crown. His cock is still a heavy weight digging into your hip but he doesnât seem to be in any rush to relieve himself.
âJungkook,â you sigh, a wave of fatigue crashing over you. Your eyes sting when you close them, a lump building in your throat. You ache all over pleasantly, satisfaction settling deep into your bones. In spite of that, a rift opens in your heart. âJungkook, I--â
He kisses your shoulder, shushing you. âDonât ruin it. Just let me hold you for a little while longer⊠please.â
The tears are almost impossible to stop. âItâs already hard enough, donât make me -- I canât justâŠâ
Jungkook squeezes you gently. âI love you,â he says, âbut I swear to god you can be so stupid sometimes.â
You jolt, eyes swinging up to meet his, wide and disbelieving. âWhat did you just - I - I donât. ..Jungkook?â
âHow could I not feel the same?â he asks, tone resigned and wary. âHonestly scared the shit out of me when I realized because, well, yâknow I donât have the best track record.â He averts his gaze, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. âI almost fucked everything up too, but Namjoonie-hyung helped me get my head on straight.â
Something unfurls in your chest, and you feel as light as air. Ridiculously buoyant with happiness. Hope.
Oh, how stupid.
âWeâre kind of idiots, arenât we?â you ask, sniffling as you shoot him a watery smile. âLike⊠the biggest.â
Jungkook hums in agreement, a boyish gleam to his eyes. âI mean, you said it. Not me.â
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook fic#bts jungkook
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Routine Check Up
Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader
Also on AO3
Summary: The good Dr. Lecter stops by to check up on Will Graham's favorite pet.
Word Count: 2.3k words
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, i think i was possessed while writing this, Plot? What fucking plot?, light petplay... but in the female gaze ig, Dom/Sub dynamic, light dehumanization, threesome, Hannibal gets to put his PhD to good use,Oral, unprotected p in v (don't you dare) ,dirty talk, self indulgent afffff, ....breeding kink?
A/N: I DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT. @glitchedpup dedicating it to you here too!
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You woke to the sound of a car pulling up the gravel road, and Willâs dogs barking outside.
On the bedside clock, it read eight thirty AM. You usually woke up around the same time as Will, but you supposed heâd let you sleep in a little longer this time. It was a Sunday, after all.
Moments later, there was knocking on the front door. Will padded over from the kitchen and he opened it to reveal Hannibal. You sat up in the bed, curious, and crawled forward a little to get a better look.
âHannibal,â he greeted in an even tone, even if you could tell he was a little surprised. âTo what do I owe the pleasure?â
âJust a routine check-up, Will,â he said with a small shrug, looking over his shoulder at you. âHave to keep her healthy, right?â
âNo courtesy call beforehand? Thatâs uncharacteristic of you,â Will noted, stepping aside to let him in. âI suppose you meant to surprise us.â
Once more, Hannibal smiled enigmatically, a glint of mischief in his amber eyes. âI was in the neighborhood. Thought Iâd stop by.â
He hung up his jacket by the door, and Will motioned for you to stand up and come closer.Â
You shot him a quizzical look, but made no questions as you scurried over to them, standing at attention next to Will.
âHello, there,â Hannibal said amicably. âMind if I take a look at you?â
You nodded quickly, almost eagerly. Will raised an eyebrow at this, but Hannibal kept his eyes on you.Â
This was one of his little games, a constant reminder of who had the upper hand. You knew what he called you to others â Will Grahamâs favorite pet.Â
Still, you didnât mind playing along, and it seemed like Will didnât either. You werenât sure what that said about you, but you found it wasnât quite as mortifying as one might expect.
âIâll need her toâŠâ Hannibal trailed off, gesturing at your figure.
âStrip,â Will commanded, barely glancing at you.
You did as told, eyeing the doctor peripherally. He was appraising you as well, slightly impressed at your unflinching obedience.Â
Youâd been well trained, after all.
You werenât wearing much, just one of Willâs t-shirts and cotton underwear, both of which fell unceremoniously to the floor. You didnât cover yourself as you were bared to the room, instead keeping your expression neutral and arms at your sides.
âWhere do you need me?â You asked, voice low.
âJust where you are is fine,â he said, setting down his bag. âNow letâs seeâŠâ
First, he checked your pulse, fingers resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at his watch. When his fingers moved to your neck, you kept eye contact as he felt your lymph nodes, tracing up to your jaw, behind your ear and down to your collarbones.
His eyes watched your throat work as you swallowed hard, glancing at Will. Hannibal knew just how much you trusted him to guide you. You cared for him the same way he cared for you, and surrender was a price you gladly paid for it.
For a long time, you had a constant need to be in control of not just yourself, but also your surroundings. Every detail had to be accounted for; Every single possibility dissected and analyzed. It was essential for survival.Â
That was until you met Will, and you grew sick and tired of control. There were no more ruins to scurry out of, or prevent. Devotion was all that was left, and that was something Hannibal could understand.
âOpen your mouth, please. Letâs see these teeth,â Hannibal instructed.Â
Once more, you did as told. He hummed in thought as he looked over your canines and front teeth. Then he stretched your lips back with two fingers so he could see all of your molars, too.Â
âGood,â he murmured under his breath, and for a brief, wild moment, you wanted to sink your teeth into his hand.Â
His thumb then swiped over your bottom lip, and it was then that you gave in to your urges. You nipped at it, holding it between your teeth for a moment.
âAh, ah,â Will tsked, reaching over and grabbing the back of your neck firmly.Â
He gave you a stern look, and you let go of Hannibalâs thumb grudgingly.
Hannibal chuckled, delighted. âSharp, as expected. Apologies, had to coax that out of her.â
Playing with fire, you thought, figuring that was exactly what he wanted. You wondered if youâd get a better taste of him at some point.
With a stethoscope â because he took his role very seriously â he checked your heartbeat and your breathing, both of which seemed to quicken a little at his nearness.
âNo need to be nervous,â he said reassuringly, but his smile told you he was very much enjoying making you feel that way.
The end of the stethoscope was cold against your flesh, which made you shudder a little. Your nipples hardened, too, which was a detail he did not miss.
A soft, pleasured hum escaped you as his fingers grazed the skin right under your breasts, his touch not entirely clinically detached.
âQuiet, now. Let the doctor do his work,â Will chastised.
For his part, Hannibal inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.
âSomeoneâs in heat,â he noted, sharing a look with Will. âI could take care of it, if you like.â
Willâs eyes narrowed slightly. âHmm, that explains why sheâs been humping my leg. But is it necessary?â
âYou wouldnât want to leave her unattended, would you?â
You tried not to let a traitorous blush spread across your cheeks at Willâs analyzing gaze, dipping your chin slightly in confirmation.
âI might just have to check your temperature, too,â Hannibal added, tilting his head to one side. âCould I have you bend over the couch, please?â
Will nodded towards it, and off you went, kneeling on the armrest and placing your hands on the cushion.Â
You kept still as the doctor approached with slow, easy steps. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before dipping lower, to the source of your ache.
Will sat beside your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. He watched you shoot Hannibal a frustrated look as he teased you, fingers gliding up your slit. He gripped your chin just as you bared your teeth, wanting to bite once more.
Then, you swallowed back a low whine as he easily sank his middle finger into you. You heard his huff of amusement as you pushed your hips back needily.
âRunning a little hotâŠâ Hannibal mused. âWeâve got to remedy that, donât we?â
You shot him another look, pleading this time. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, almost swallowing your irises, and your breaths came out long and slow.
You gripped one of Willâs arms, urging him towards you, desperate to touch him as well.
âThink you deserve a treat?â He murmured, raising an eyebrow. âGo on, earn it.â
Will scooted closer, your head now on his lap. You breathed in his familiar scent, and you licked his crotch through the thin fabric of his boxers.
Hannibal chuckled. âOh, but sheâs being so goodâŠâ
Will glanced up at him. âHmm, sheâs been showing off a little for you. Canât let that become a habit.â
Hannibalâs hand retreated, and a complaint was starting to form in your throat when you heard the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the rasp of his zipper being pulled down.Â
You also heard a wet pop as he sucked your arousal off his finger, loving the taste of you. Oh, heâd definitely need to try it directly from the source, too.Â
âNot to worry, weâll take good care of her,â he purred, bending closer to your ear. âJust needed some extra attention is all, didnât you?âÂ
You nodded, spreading your knees further apart. Willâs hand rested on your head as you continued to lap at him. You felt him hardening against your insistent tongue, lips tracing the outline of his shaft. The smell and the heat of him were making you delirious with lust, driving any sort of coherency out the window.
Behind you, Hannibal spread you open with both hands in order to get a better look at his next meal. He knelt, pushing his slacks down and gripping himself.Â
His hot breath blew against your soaked core for a mere second before he licked you clit to ass in one long, languid stripe. His expert tongue then dipped into the deep well of your cunt, and you felt the vibration of his groan.
He stroked himself as he continued his ministrations, closing his eyes as all his other senses were invaded by you.
You let out a choked whine, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your cheek against Willâs growing bulge. He had you lift your head as he shifted his hips, pulling off his boxers and finally letting you get your reward.Â
You practically melted at the taste of him as you took him into your mouth â musky and slightly salty. You knew the exact way he liked to be tended to, guiding yourself by the sounds he made.
You moaned around him, and he gathered your hair in his fist, keeping it away from your face. He kept your head down for a moment when he was all the way down your throat, and you breathed slowly through your nose.Â
âThere we go,â Will sighed, petting your head. âThatâs it.â
Your mind went blank for a moment as Hannibal lapped up all your arousal with gusto. Will let you come up for air, gently pulling you up by the hair to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss.Â
Before your head descended once more, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and smiling beatifically. The same adoration was mirrored in his eyes as he tenderly ran the back of his finger down your cheek.
âAtta girl, taking it all so well,â Hannibal praised, standing up. âI think youâre ready for me.â
He slowly eased into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. You sucked in a breath, adjusting to the delicious stretch. Instinctually, you moved against him, seeking much more friction than he was currently providing.
âDonât have to do⊠much of the work myself,â He grunted, grabbing your hips in a half-attempt to slow you down. âSo very eager, this one.â
âLoves to please. Everything she gets, she earns,â Will said proudly. âMakes it so much better, doesnât it?â
âWell trained indeed.â
At such an angle, you could feel Hannibal reaching impossibly deep, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. You moaned against Willâs skin, teeth digging lightly into his inner thigh.Â
As bad as you might want it, you knew he wouldnât let you make him come with your mouth. He was next in line after Hannibal, and he intended to leave a lasting impression. That wasnât to say he didnât want you to keep touching him, though.Â
Hannibalâs grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, in which he chased his release. You were already clenching him hard, close to the edge yourself. Then one of his hands reached between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles.
Heat spread throughout you like wildfire, all-consuming. You reached back to grip one of his forearms, unsure if it was a plead for mercy or for him to never stop. It didnât take long for you to come undone, mouth slack in pleasure as you moaned wantonly, melting into the heady feeling of them both.
Soon after, Hannibalâs hips stuttered, and then they stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You could feel him pulsate as he was gripped in his own euphoria, branding you much like Will had done countless times before.Â
Once more, Will kissed you, murmuring a soft good girl against your lips. Hannibal pulled out of you, panting as he bent forward to plant a kiss on your spine.Â
âI think she can give us another one,â he said. âIn fact, I highly recommend it.â
Will nodded in agreement. âDoctorâs orders.â
He moved you onto the couch cushions as they switched places. Hannibal presented himself before you, leaning back with a lupine sort of smirk.
Willâs thrusts were swift and savage as you licked Hannibal clean. It was only polite to tend to the doctor after being so very helpful. Your tongue was especially enthusiastic as you neared your second orgasm.Â
His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to bruise. By his more unrestrained sounds, you could tell he was right there with you. When he came, his body slumped forward, chest flush against your back.
His hot breath was against your neck as he pressed himself tighter against you. He was still buried to the hilt, making sure no drop was wasted.
When he unsheathed himself from you, you collapsed onto the couch, body spread between the two of them. You felt boneless and utterly sated, swimming in dopamine.
âGood job. That should hold you for some time, hmm?â Hannibal said, looking down at you resting on his lap.
Will huffed in amusement, caressing your legs. âYouâll find sheâs quite insatiable.â
The two shared a look, all too happy to shoulder the so-called burden of your constant hunger.
âYou shouldâve just said you missed me, Doctor Lecter,â you said with a teasing grin. âCouldâve saved us the theatrics.â
He smirked. âOh, but whereâs the fun in that?â
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#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal smut#hannibal lecter x will graham x fem!reader#will graham x reader#hannibal lecter x reader#will graham smut#hannibal lecter smut#hannigram x reader#minors dni
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half algorithm, half deity - (Mafia AU) Eris Vanserra
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (Rhysandâs Sibling)
Summary: You try to date other people, but in truth youâve only ever wanted Eris Vanserra.
Tags/Warnings:
Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI), SMUT with plot, Angst, Modern Mafia AU, Established FWB, Mentions of past Tamlin x Reader (brief), Mentions canon typical violence, Mentions of minor character death (Rhysandâs mom and other sister)
Alcohol, Oral (M & F receiving), Rough but make it tender & loving too, Hair pulling, P in V, Overstim if you squint (please lmkif i missed anything)
Word Count: 6.5k
Links: Masterlist | My Art
Despite your fatherâs best efforts, you didnât inherit your familyâs propensity for violence.Â
You drink your wine and remind yourself of that fact for the umpteenth time tonight. But if this male gives you another backhanded compliment or, Mother forbid, another unsolicited criticism, you might reconsider that fact. Rhys had made sure you knew how to gut a man in just three moves and you remember each precise stroke as effortlessly as a breath.
To dissuade yourself from such thoughts, you take another generous gulp of wine - your only saving grace as you listen to him drone on and on about his most recent business acquisition. For the past forty-five minutes, the man has managed to recount his entire genealogy, his academic history and recited what felt like an itemized list of all his professional accomplishments. This is supposed to be a date, youâre tempted to remind him, not a chance to whip out his dick and measure it.Â
He has yet to ask you anything about yourself, of course, entirely preoccupied with stroking his damn ego. Youâve stopped trying after the fifth cycle of appropriately timed âoohâs and âahhâs, seeing he doesnât seem to need you to continue his tirade. Your pointed glares and longing glances at your wristwatch remain unnoticed too. The number of drinks youâve had seems to be an entirely different story, however.Â
"You know, you should really slow down," he remarks, his sardonic smirk exposing a set of eerily straight white teeth.
âAnd why is that, exactly?â You ask before taking another long sip of wine with deliberate slowness. His jaw clenches ever so slightly, his smile little more than a collection of clenched teeth.Â
âYou wouldnât want to be too drunk for later.â He makes a show of raking his beady eyes over your form. The predatory glint in his eye makes your skin crawl and your hackles raise in equal measure.Â
âBold of you to assume there would be a later,â you drawl, your eyes narrowing into slits, nostrils flaring in silent outrage.Â
âOh, there will,â he declares with an impressive amount of unearned confidence. âHow else are you going to pay me back for this meal, sweetheart?â He says it as though itâs a given, like your body is something heâs owed for this paltry display. Fuck, if you donât leave now, youâre sure youâll end this night behind bars, probably charged with manslaughter. Rhys would get you out of it, of course, but heâd be incredibly smug about it and you couldnât have that.Â
The man makes another show of tracing his slimy gaze over your body, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. âI must say, I wasnât a big fan of the dress - too revealing to be classy, in my opinion - but I suppose it wouldnât matter when itâs on the floor of my penthouse.â
You admit that you donât try very hard to hold back a gag. Without even dignifying him with a response, you hail the waiter and gesture for the bill in the hopes that the expression on your face is enough to convey the urgency you feel. To her credit, it only takes her a minute to rush to the table in all black and white salvation, the bill in hand.Â
With haste, you pull out the cash from your wallet and slam it down the table. It should be enough to cover everything, even the tip. You give the man one last scathing glare before you rise from the table. A fish out of water - thatâs what he looks like, wide-eyed with his mouth opening and closing, probably on the cusp of claiming to everyone in the room that youâre crazy, that youâre overreacting.
Before he can do any of that you pivot sharply towards the exit, ignoring the manâs indignant sputtering. Your feet protest beneath you, your new stilettos digging painfully into your skin with every step. Only when youâre five blocks away from the restaurant do you let yourself slow to a stop. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, undoubtedly ruining the makeup you spent such a long time putting on earlier that night.Â
Suddenly, the dress you felt so confident in now feels suffocating. The fabric clings to your skin fat too tightly, constricting your every movement. The silken garment you had thought to fit you like a glove now surrounded you like a cage. You tug at the neckline, trying to find some relief, but the discomfort only intensifies.
Frustration bubbles in your gut as you collapse onto the nearest bench to catch your breath. You feel so stupid. Although you donât want to admit it, youâve been looking forward to a nice night out after an entire week of slogging through work. Instead, you ended up sacrificing what little free time you have to satisfy some assholeâs vanity.Â
The city continues in indifferent chaos around you. The fluorescent streetlights overhead and the headlights of passing cars slice through the night. People bustle past, absorbed in their own lives, oblivious to your existence. At this moment, youâve never felt more alone.Â
Seeing Feyre and Rhys fall in love has been an eye-opening experience. Youâve watched them gradually find happiness in each other, watched them build a life together. Thereâs also Nes and Cass, Viv and Kal - all so utterly content, so in painfully love. It is a relief to know that love is possible despite the kind of lives you live. After what happened - your gun slotted in between those bright forest eyes, finger frozen at the trigger; the stumbling string of sorries, of depthless regrets; white marble tiles stained crimson by blood - happiness hadnât seemed like a possibility. All youâve had since then are inconsequential flings and ill-conceived dalliances, nothing that could lead to anything more.
Itâs difficult to admit that you want something more.
But since youâve started seeing other people, itâs only been a series of disappointments one after the other. What made basic empathy and human decency such a scarce resource these days? In all honesty, youâre starting to lose hope, starting to think that maybe that love just isnât in the cards for you.Â
You cared for Tamlin in your own foolish, fumbling way. He was solid ground, he was stubborn certainty. He clung to control so tightly that his nails left angry red indents on his palm. In many ways, you were his antithesis, his unmaking. He tried to be good but the both of you hadnât been good for each other. Perhaps the two of you had been too lonely, too stubborn, too fucking young to realize not all forms of love were healthy.
Eris Vanserra is an entirely different matter. He came to you as a flicker of flame in the darkest night. He was a breath of fresh air - a lungful of ember and possibility - setting you alight from the inside out. More importantly, Eris understands you the same way one side of a coin knows the other. That, however, didnât mean you could be together.Â
Perhaps in some ways, knowing made the longing worse.
Your hand clenches around air, around the vestige of a memory you canât seem to let go of. Your fingers itch to dial the same set of numbers youâve deleted from your phone time and time again. You remember it anyway, though. Your mind has faithfully cataloged every memory of him - silky red hair brushing against your cheek, amber eyes crinkling in mischievous delight, arms wrapping around your body, making you feel safe for the first time in your life.Â
Your body moves before your better judgment can catch up. Before you know it, the familiar set of numbers is staring accusingly at you from your phone screen. Droning rings of an outgoing call pierce the silence. On the third one, Eris picks up.Â
âFirefly.â That word. You can hear the amusement in his tone. You refuse to acknowledge the hint of relief you sense there too, the note of near manic joy. Itâs been months since youâve last seen each other, since you told him that you needed something more - more than stolen moments, more than simply falling in and out of each other's beds only to be nothing but mere strangers come morning.Â
You say nothing, trapping unsaid words behind teeth clenched so tightly itâs a wonder you donât break your jaw.Â
âCat got your tongue?â Eris laughs, smooth, sensual, and utterly addicting. The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You fight the sudden urge to feel his lips shape the words with your own, to feel the vibrations of his laughter with the tips of your fingers.Â
âTell me where you are,â he tries again. You can hear him lean back on his office chair, undoubtedly working late yet again. To anyone else, he wouldâve sounded perfectly calm.Â
âI donât know,â you sniff, fighting back the traitorous tears. âIâm near the Moonstone Palace.â Itâs the overpriced restaurant you had been in earlier, the reason youâre going to have to struggle with rent this month. You could always ask Rhys, but youâve long since divorced yourself from your familyâs wealth.
Eris exhales, and you hear a suspicious amount of rummaging in the background. âCould you send your location to me?â He suggests, and you can make out the faint sound of a door opening and closing.Â
âOkay.â It comes out as a resigned sigh.Â
Before he hangs up, he makes sure, âAre you safe?â
âI am.âÂ
âGive me fifteen minutes.âÂ
Eris arrives in ten.
Youâre slumped on the bench, clutching your purse to your chest as the frigid night air rushes past you. In your haste, you completely forgot to retrieve your coat before rushing out of the restaurant. But then, the low growl of an engine captures your attention. You turn to find a sleek black Benz gliding into view before coming to a halt right in front of you.Â
The window rolls down to reveal Erisâs smug face, familiar and foreign all at once. His bright fiery locks, longer now, have been tamed into a braid behind his back. Loose strands frame his sharp features, highlighting the severity of his beauty. He looks paler than usual, freckles now barely visible across his cheeks.Â
Eris grins, voice laced with far too much delight. âDidnât I tell you, Love? You wouldnât be able to stay away.âÂ
Your nostrils flare involuntarily, equal parts irritation and wry amusement warring in you. When he notices the redness of your eyes, however, his smile banks. The only reason you can tell heâs worried is because youâve spent an inordinate amount of time learning his tells, mapping the meaning behind the slivers of genuine emotion that sometimes slip through his carefully constructed mask. Youâve got it down to a science, interpreting him the same way astronomers find reason in the depths of the cosmos.
Without another sly remark, he steps out of the car and slips out of his coat as he strides toward you. When he moves to wrap the garment around your body, you try to protest. âThat wonât be necessary.â
âYouâre freezing,â he insists before dropping the surprisingly heavy coat over your shoulders. The effect is immediate. Eris is a walking furnace most days and traces of his heat still linger on the cloth, thawing the ice that has gathered beneath your skin.
You groan in relief despite yourself, finally acquiescing and pulling his coat tighter around you. Eris smirks, and you shoot him a perfunctory glare in response. Thankfully, though, he doesnât comment on the way you bury your face in the upturned lapels, inhaling a lungful of his cinnamon and woodsmoke scent.
âFun night?â He asks once youâve plopped down the passenger seat.Â
âObviously,â you reply, words thick with sarcasm. âI had the time of my life, really. Nothing like a date with another entitled, self-involved trust fund asswipe to liven up my Saturday night.â Eris looks entirely too pleased with this information.Â
He shrugs. âYour dates canât compare?â He shoots you a knowing look. You resent the implication, but canât entirely deny it either.Â
The truth of the matter is that youâve never truly gotten over Eris. As brief as your explosive affairs may have been, the male has found a way to burrow beneath skin, to etch himself onto the surface of your mind. There is no washing him off you. In these last few months, all youâve done is find fragments of him in faceless men.Â
âCanât compare to your arrogance, maybe,â you retort a beat too late.
Â
âOh Firefly, you know you love it,â the smug bastard shoots back smoothly.Â
âYou think you know me so well,â you grumble, crossing your arms defensively.
âWell enough.â Erisâs smile widens, a glint of amusement in his eyes. âWell enough to know those men youâve found arenât worth your time.â
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he is at least vaguely aware of your failed attempts at dating. Embarrassment coils in your gut, betrayed only by the steadily rising flush of your cheeks. âMaybe one day Iâll find someone who doesnât make me want to scream.â
âMaybe,â he agrees, a hint of mischief lingering in his eyes. âBut whereâs the fun in that?â He leans toward you, face hovering over yours. The intensity of his gaze feels dangerous, almost like a threat, a promise that he could easily tear down all your walls if he pleased. Memories flash - of him devouring your mouth with his own, of bare bodies intertwined on soiled sheets, of him greedily drinking in each moan from your mouth as you clench tightly around his length - playing on torturous repeat in your mind.Â
âYouâre insufferable, you know that?â Your breaths come short, voice trembling. Erisâs smile widens, canines glinting beneath the warm light - a well-honed predator to and through.Â
Eris chuckles. âAnd yet, here you are.â
You sincerely canât tell whether you want to clock him in the jaw or pull him down for a kiss. But then, in a rare show of mercy, Eris withdraws. He simply pulls your seatbelt down and fastens it beside you before turning back to the wheel. You release a breath you donât realize you are holding.Â
The engine roars beneath you and Eris begins to maneuver the car back onto the highway. You slump further down in your seat, only to have several objects dig into your ribs. You jolt up, patting down his coat for the offending items. In your search, you produce a stiletto hidden in the inner lining and a Glock 19 in one pocket.Â
âReally?â You quirk your brow at him as you drop another knife on the car floor.
Amber eyes dart towards you for the briefest second, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, before turning his gaze back to the road. You donât doubt Eris has more hidden on his person, maybe even in this car.Â
âCanât be too careful,â he replies with a shrug, his hand flexing on the wheel. You follow the movement with rapt attention, transfixed by the rhythmic contractions of the muscles beneath, by the faint blue of the veins that run in webs up his forearm.Â
Eris, the bastard, catches your preoccupation with his body. Of course, he does.Â
His smirk widens into a full grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Enjoying the view?"
You snap your gaze back to his face, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Keep your eyes on the road," you remind him, stalling, trying to regain your composure. âPerhaps you should put up a show for me, and Iâll decide then.âÂ
Eris chuckles at the challenge, a deep, resonant sound that never fails to send shivers down your spine.Â
The rest of the drive to your apartment is spent in comfortable silence, Eris content to leave you in your corner, brooding and bundled up in his coat. You lean your head on the window, letting your thoughts drift by at the same pace the scenery slips away from view. You donât realize youâve dozed off until you feel Eris tucking strands of your hair behind your ear.
âWeâre here.âÂ
Your eyes flutter open, reality reluctantly coalescing into focus in front of you. There's an amused expression on the redhead's face as he watches you wake. A part of you is tempted to curl back into a ball, content to pretend at peace just a little longer. Eris has no such qualms, however. He undoes your seatbelt and tugs you out of the vehicle. His arms remain loosely wrapped around your waist, though, even as he closes the door to the passenger seat.
âI should go.â He is so close his hot breath brushes against your cheek, the scent of mint permeating the air between you.Â
âYou should.âÂ
But none of you move to part. Your hands remain tightly fisted on his otherwise pristine shirt, while his arms create a cage around you, his body pressing you against the cool metal of the car.Â
âWhy did you call?â Eris asks instead. His cheek rests on your temple, his nose buried in your hair like he canât quite help but gravitate towards you. Your grip on him tightens the same way the sun pulls celestial bodies into its orbit, completely, inevitably. Â
âYou know why.âÂ
âTell me anyway.â He pulls back just enough to look straight into your eyes, molten amber burning into you.Â
âI want you.â You confess. Iâve only ever wanted you, your mind further supplies. His gaze is searching, as if scouring for all the ways he can turn over your words in his head if the new angles would reveal some hidden meaning.
âI want to forget.â You continue, tugging him down by the collar. He follows willingly and rests his forehead on yours. Lips hover over your own, breaths mingling in the scant space between you. His mask turns translucent. Joy, pain, and regret flash in quick succession across his face before you can even parse their meaning.
âAs do I, Love.âÂ
The moment you step into your apartment, all traces of tenderness dissipate.Â
Eris has you trapped between the wall and the firm line of his lithe body. He easily towers over you. With one thigh wrapped around his slim waist, only his firm grip on your hips and his thigh slotted between your parted legs keep you upright. Your remaining leg stands precariously on the tips of your toes, teetering dangerously in whichever current Eris pulls you in.
His mouth is latched onto your neck, leaving blooms of red in his wake. You should tell him to stop, tell him not to leave any visible marks. But all words and reason are lost to you when his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin in time with a particularly well-timed roll of his hips.Â
âEris!â You keen, clawing at his back in a vain attempt to find purchase. But there is no safe harbor to be found, not here. Eris is a force of nature. He is the living embodiment of wildfire, burning brightly, holding you so firmly, that itâs as though he intends to fuse your bodies together.
âWhat is it, Firefly?â He whispers the words against your ear, right before he catches your lobe in between his teeth. You can feel his lips curl against your skin. âWhat does my pretty girl want?â
âYou.â It comes out as a demand, a desperate plea.Â
âUse your words, love.â His movements settle into a languid pace, excruciatingly slow, pulling a whine from your throat. His single hand encompasses your entire jaw. Pads of his fingers press against the joint, his grip firm but gentle. Eris turns your face so youâre looking straight into his burning eyes. âLetâs try again, shall we? Tell me, how do you want me?âÂ
âI need your cock in my mouth,â you whisper your want against his lips, confessions youâd never be able to make in the light of day. Amber eyes roll back at the image your words evoke. Eris forces his eyelids shut as you continue to speak. âThen, I want to feel you inside me, fuck me into the mattress, until your name is the only word in my mind, until I can feel you for days after.âÂ
âFirefly.â With his face in the crook of your neck, he groans like youâre torturing him. You allow him a few short moments to gather himself - heavy heated breaths blown onto your nape - before tugging him by the hair insistently. His braid comes loose and a river of red falls in delicate curls over his freckled shoulders. Eris is an entirely different person when his head snaps up to meet your gaze.
âOn your knees.âÂ
Electricity crackles through the air between you at the sheer command in his voice. Obediently, you sink to his feet, gazing up at him with wide hungry eyes. To his credit, Erisâs expression remains impassive, his ardor betrayed only by the tension in his jaw and the glint in his eyes. With his thumb, he presses down on your bottom lip.Â
âSuck.âÂ
Your mouth parts to welcome him, until you feel the cool press of his signet against your lips, a welcome contrast. You swirl your tongue around the digit, bobbing your head for a few beats. Eris clenches his jaw, the pad of his thumb lightly digging onto your tongue as he pulls it out. You release it with a pop of your lips.
âGood.âÂ
Eris tilts his head, a silent permission to continue. While you gradually slip off his belt and undo the zip of his trousers, Eris gathers your hair in his fist. With a single push, his impressive length is revealed to you, long and heavy. Anticipation sparks in your chest, eager to feel his weight on your tongue.
âGo on then.âÂ
So you do. You flatten your tongue against the base of his cock, licking a stripe to the tip. There, you take the head into the wet heat of your mouth and suck. Eris makes an involuntary thrust, despite the tight leash he normally keeps around himself.
âFuckinâ Hel,â he groans, grip now deliciously digging into your scalp. You moan your appreciation against him, and the male shudders in response. For a few moments, you simply alternate between lazily bobbing your head and swirling your tongue against him as best you can. Your hand twists in tandem to accommodate the remaining length of him.Â
âYouâre a damned tease,â he accuses. âA demon.â
With wide eyes, you blink innocently up at him from beneath your lashes. Eris scoffs, rolling his eyes, but allows the torturous cycle to continue. When you sense his movements grow more erratic, his muscles tensing beneath your palms, you slow your movements just in time to deny him his release. At the third time of doing this, Eris looks close to breaking.
âEnough.â He growls, the command reverberating through the silent room, through every fiber of your being.Â
You still immediately, the intensity in his voice sending a thrill through you. He adjusts his grip on your hair, winding the strands around his knuckles and tugging lightly as if to test his grip. You groan at the bite of pain, your arousal dripping from you.
âIâm gonna fuck your pretty face now, Firefly.â He whispers with such disorienting tenderness. âTap my thigh twice if it becomes too much, understand?âÂ
âYes.â Your too-eager reply draws a lopsided smile from Erisâs otherwise stoic demeanor. âPlease,â you add as an afterthought as you brace your hands against his thighs.
Eris tilts his head once more, and you take that as your signal to proceed. Your lips wrap around him, cheeks hollowing out, tongue curved around his length. His thrusts begin tentatively, but it doesnât take long for him to find his rhythm. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat with each thrust, his firm grip on your hair directing each movement. You will yourself to relax, angling yourself to take him better, deeper. For a while, all your thoughts evaporate, your entire focus simply on breathing through your nose and watching the look of ecstasy unfold across his face.Â
âYou feel amazing around me.â Eris pants as he pushes impossibly deeper. You struggle to take him, throat spasming around him. âMy good girl,â he coos, his thrusts stuttering. You groan against him when one stroke allows him to bottom out completely. Nose nuzzling the thin line of red on his lower stomach, tears bloom in your eyes. You look up, only to find him already gazing at you. His amber eyes were wide with want, transfixed at the sight of you taking him completely.Â
âIâm about to come, Love. Youâll be a good girl and take it, wonât you?â A drawn out mhm is all the permission he needs. âEvery. Last. Drop.â Each word is punctuated by a thrust.Â
Then, on his final advance, Eris holds you there by the head until the very last moment, until the fire in your veins has spread into each lobe of your lungs. When you swallow around him, he chokes, rolling his hips into your mouth. Your fingers curl into claws against his thighs but you donât tap out. He moves once, twice, then heâs gone. Eris allows you a bit of reprieve by retreating into your mouth as his length pulses the rest of his release onto your tongue.Â
âFuck.â He rasps. Then, with a single tug, he pulls you off of him and onto your two wobbly legs. Eris only gives you a few seconds to catch your breath before his mouth crashes against yours for a kiss. He groans as he tastes himself on your tongue.Â
âSo perfect for me, made to take me.â His hands roam your body as though eager to discover every square inch of exposed skin. This is Eris in his rawest form, you realize, all control turned into liquid flame in his hands. He practically tears your dress from your body, pushing down the silk until it pools on the floor.Â
âYesss,â you hiss, clawing at his shirt and shoving it off his broad shoulders. âOnly you.â Heavy thunks follow soon after - the gun holstered at his side, the knife strapped to his thigh.
âI fucking love you.â He growls in between breaths. Without giving you a chance to reply, he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at the raw flesh.Â
You donât even realize heâs corralled you into your room before he pushes you onto the bed. He pulls you to the edge by the ankle. Eris stands tall before you, rendered in sharp angles and steady lines, softened only by the warmth in his amber eyes. Then, slowly, he kneels between your parted thighs like a supplicant before their God and your body is the only conduit of worship he knows.Â
âYou okay?â He asks this while his head is pillowed on your thigh, as though he hadnât just blown your mind. Eris, youâve discovered, is a collection of contrasts - rough one second, and painfully tender the next. No amount of studying him could let you predict the direction of his passion. You donât mind, though, youâd happily be carried away in his current.
âPerfectly.âÂ
âYou remember your word?â He removes your stilettos, brushing over the raw skin where the straps have dug in.
âI do.âÂ
âSay it for me.â He lines your heels neatly at the foot of your bed.Â
âEmber.â
âGood.â Eris begins his meandering path up your legs. A kiss on your ankle, lips ghosting over your leg. Once his lips reach your thighs, he starts to nibble and suck on your skin. The simple declaration of possession shouldnât please you as much as it does, but it only deepens the pool of desire and anticipation in your gut.Â
âEris,â you whine, breathless, as he pauses at the seam of your thigh. His smirk only grows at your increasingly desperate pleas and the erratic movements of your hips.
âUse your words, Firefly.â Eris reminds you beatifically. âTell me what you want.â
âYour mouth,â you begin, already struggling to form a coherent string of words. âPlease?âÂ
âMy mouth?â He asks, pretending to consider it. âBut I thought you said you wanted my cock?â
His taunting jolts you out of your reverie, always rearing to meet his fire with your own. You come up to your elbows to level him a raised brow. âWell, youâre already on your knees, arenât you?â Despite knowing youâll pay for your words later, you try to inject as much bravado into your voice as you can. The effect is dulled by your obvious desperation though.
Eris chuckles, shaking his head as if in disapproval. âWhat to try that again, Firefly?â He blows a hot breath towards your core, the sudden sensation sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. âIâm sure you can do better than that.âÂ
You clench your teeth, a vain attempt to keep the pleas trapped within your mouth. Eris remains steadfast, of course, staring you down with obvious amusement. His lips travel a languid path, teeth teasing, mouth nipping, veering closer and closer but never close enough. This is a battle youâve already lost from the start.Â
âPlease?â You grit out. âCan I please have your mouth?âÂ
âYouâre a greedy little thing arenât you?â Eris laps at the marks heâs left, just a few millimeters from where you want him to be. Practically vibrating with need, you dangle on the sharp edge of anticipation. The bite Eris plants on the soft flesh of your thigh is what pushes you off the precipice.
âPlease,â you plead, each syllable dripping with need. âCan I please have your mouth?â
âWell, since you asked so prettily,â Eris drawls, entirely indulgent. He places your leg over his shoulder and dives in. First, he runs the flat of his tongue over your flimsy thong, lapping at your slit. You shudder at the sensation, melting against the sheets as he continues.
âYou taste divine.â He growls, the vibrations making you tighten around nothing. Then, closes his mouth over your slit and begins to suck. You throw your head back, heel digging into his back, hips arching towards the pull of his mouth. Your arousal seeps into the cloth. A heartbeat, a fraction of eternity, then Eris licks the lace greedily like a man starved.
âI canât get enough of you.â He mouths against the fabric. You feel the truth of his words as surely as the growing flame in your gut. Then, he slides your undergarments down one thigh, keeping it wrapped around the other, a mockery of a wedding garter. Finally, his lips close around your clit as he slides one long finger in you, then two, scissoring them inside. You release a choked sob. His fingers are much thicker than your own, but the stretch is a burn youâve been craving for far too long.Â
âFuck, Firefly, youâre so damn tight.â He murmurs against your skin. He begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you, making it a point to curl his digits in just the right spot. The precision of his movements is enough to drive you out of your mind. Eris shifts between murmuring sweet nothings against your heated skin and drawing precise circles around your clit.
At some point, Erisâs free hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers with his own. It doesnât take long for you to climb that familiar high. Hurtling over the edge so fast, you donât even realize youâre cumming until youâre overtaken by a wave of pleasure. It saturates your senses until the only thing that makes sense is Eris, Eris, Eris.Â
He doesnât stop. His fingers hit that torturous angle, while his tongue laps at your bud. âOne more,â he demands and you whine in protest. âJust one more, Love.âÂ
ââS too much-â you try to say, but your words crack into a sob. âI c-canât-â
âYou can,â he coos. âMy good girl, my lovely little Firefly.â The praise does more for you than his hands could. âAlways so perfect for me.âÂ
Desire is a living thing inside you, an inferno building beneath your skin. You crush his fingers in your grip, while the other threads itself through his silken locks, needing something to anchor you unspool for him.
âEris, Iâm-â your voice cracks, reality blurring around you as you spasm around him, hips gyrating, driven only by pure primal instinct. He groans, as though your pleasure is as good as his own. His fingers speed up, his tongue licking your bud to and fro with dangerous precision.
âCum for me, Firefly.â
You do. You break into flames with his name on your lips, back bowing, eyes trained to the unseen sky. You barely even register when Eris climbs into bed with you, too preoccupied with reacquainting yourself with your body. Only when he pulls your pliant form over his chest do you meet his gaze.Â
âAre you alright?â There is concern in his gaze, and you wipe the worry from his face as you run your knuckles over his cheek.Â
âPerfectly.â An invisible tug calls you to dip your head and taste yourself on his lips. Eris licks the seam of your mouth and waits patiently until your lips part for him.Â
Without breaking contact, you wrap your hand around his girth and begin stroking him to full hardness. Your tongues meet, and you relish the trace of your taste in his mouth. Once his cock is ready, you line him up with your entrance.Â
You lower yourself onto him, slowly, inch by inch, until youâre fully on his lap. For a moment, you simply stay like that, with him seated deep within you, lips locked in a languid ebb and flow. When you begin to move, you do it together, rising and falling in question and answer to the other. You wonder if there will always be this constant compulsion to have Eris near, the need to feel his skin against yours, to feel his beating heart thump in step with your own. Somehow, against all reason, heâs managed to worm his way into your life, to make a home for himself within the chambers of your heart.
Eris becomes the ruined wreckage of a man as you slide off him up until only the tip remains, before slamming back down. Eris keeps his gaze on you as though heâd rather die than miss a single moment of this. He groans, meeting each and every single one of your movements. His one hand grips your hip, guiding and grinding, fingers digging into you. The other cups your breast, his thumb tracing over your nipple. When your thighs begin to ache, legs quaking, powered only by desire and desperation, Eris easily flips you over.Â
âHarder,â you choke out, âdeeper.â
âSo demanding,â Eris teases but seems happy enough to comply. He places a pillow beneath your hips. You almost whine at the pause, but Eris doesnât give you a chance. He begins with an unforgiving pace, pistoning in and out of you with abandon. The new angle is torture specifically designed to tear your remaining sanity into shreds. Your legs lock around his waist, hands clasped tightly with his own. His lips hover over yours, drinking in each whimper, each moan, like it's ambrosia and youâre the sole source.Â
âAre you about to cum for me, Love?â Eris breathes. And you nod frantically.
âTell me, Firefly, whoâs making you feel good, hm?â He punctuates the sentence with a hard thrust that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.Â
âYou are,â you rasp, convulsing around him as his cock nudges the perfect spot inside of you.
âMy name,â he demands.
âEris.â It comes out as drawn out moan, a plea, a promise.
âAnd who do you belong to?â The force of each slam has you seeing sparks, and when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb? Youâre gone, utterly defeated and consumed by the flame.Â
âYou!â You scream, repeating his name over and over and over.Â
âThatâs right,â he purrs. Your thighs shake, back arching completely off the mattress. The world breaks apart around you, reality melting into a flash of blinding light. He slows down and fucks you through the throes of rapture, extending seconds into eons while you flutter around him. With one last grind of his hips, you feel his cock throb as he spills deep inside you.Â
Eris collapses on top of you, surrounding you in his scorching warmth. For a long while, only your shared breaths exist in the silence. He nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck, as though unable to help himself.
Eris doesnât tell you he loves you again. He shouldnât, for both of your sakes. But you feel it in the featherlight kisses he leaves over your shoulder, his gentle touch as he traces each curve, line, and ridge of your body. He does it with such ease, as though itâs an art heâs perfected through the years, through lifetimes.Â
Instinctively, you begin to run your hands over his back, fingers running over the lattice of faded scars there. Anger is a flaming arrow through your chest. Beron is not an easy father to have. Eris, as the prospective heir to his empire, receives the brunt of his brutal scrutiny. What youâd give to have the opportunity to tear that old bastardâs head from his shoulders.
As if sensing your sudden agitation, Erisâs roaming hands become more insistent, kneading away all the tension from your muscles. âRelax,â he whispers against your ear.Â
Although he rolls off of you, he doesnât go far. Without letting you out of the cage of his arms, he curls beside you like a cat, each plane of your bodies perfectly aligned. With his head resting over your heart, a rumble of contentment escapes him.
Itâs startling to think that to anyone outside of this room, Eris is a villain, as well-versed in savagery as his father. But you know him, seen parts of him the world would never know. You and Eris have always been two sides of the same coin.Â
He understands what itâs like to endure and inherit a fatherâs rage, to house a motherâs bottomless grief, to be saturated with so much shame it steals your every breath. The two of you are so different and yet are hewn from the same ore, forged from the same fire. Although there are a multitude of reasons why the both of you canât be together, it feels as though Eris is the only one who's ever truly seen you as you are.Â
But self-denial is a circus act you and Eris perform with practiced ease. Youâve already fucked up before and it wasnât you who ended up paying the price. No, it had been your mother and your sister. Their blood will stain your hands for the rest of your life.Â
You wonât make that same mistake again.Â
Two twined heartbeats, breaths released and taken in unison, Eris drifts off as your fingers card through his hair. You drink him in, long lashes fluttering as he flits into sleep, faint freckles like stars scattered over the ridge of his nose, and his face, for once, open and devoid of that familiar mask. You map its planes with the tips of your fingers, cataloging each detail and etching them onto the back of your mind.Â
Eris will be gone come morning. He always is. The only proof of his presence would be the ache between your thighs and his scent still lingering on your sheets. But for now, though, he is yours, as fleeting as this moment may be.Â
This is enough, you tell yourself.Â
AN: hello this is my first smut fic in a while & this is a bit different from my usual thing so i was a bit nervous about posting this one. Let me know what you guys think!
Dialogue and banter arenât my strong suit but i tried my best ;u;
This started as pwp fic but now thereâs plot and Iâm invested. Iâve got a few ideas and I kinda want to do a series of one-shots for these two.
English isnât my first language. If you see any mistakes please let me know thru DM! Thank you đ
#My fic#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra#eris x reader#queued because posting gives me sm anxiety#eris fanfic#eris vanserra fanfic#eris vanserra x reader#acotar#acotar fanfic#eris smut#guys itâs messy
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strangers â drew starkey; ch. 2
summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.
warnings: unedited, tension (kind of)
author's note: the info in this story about drew is mostly made up!! some of these scenarios and 'facts' are not things that have happened in real life, this is all merely part of the plot of the story.
As if the expectations of being cast onto one of the biggest shows wasn't enough, you were in for the surprise of your life when your manager called and told you that the directors wanted you to start spending time off-screen with your soon-to-be co-star.
"They think it'll make the chemistry on the show more believable if you guys get to know each other more in real life," Kendra sighed and you could practically hear her shrug over the phone.
"Okay?" You responded with a subtle temperament in your tone that went ignored by your manager, "I auditioned for the show, not to become some PR stunt for ratings." You rebutted firmly, crossing your arms as if it made your testament any more earnest.
"Not PR, just friends. If you're gonna work with somebody for who knows how long, you need to at least be acquainted with them," she reaffirmed blithely and you could hear her light up another cigarette over the line, as if her raucous smoker's voice wasn't prominent enough already.
"Then what are we supposed to do that doesn't make it look like we're dating? Cause anything we do is gonna draw attention," you asked, pointing out the burning question in your mind. Drew was a rising star in Hollywood, and it didnât take much for the media to latch onto any spark of gossip, let alone the proximity between two co-stars. You could already imagine the headlinesâ"New Romance on Set?" or "Chemistry Beyond the Screen?"âflashing across tabloids, fueling rumors neither of you had any control over. The mere thought made your stomach twist, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pull of curiosity.
"I donât know, just grab lunch, go over lines, anything normal," Kendra responded with a casualness that felt at odds with the gravity of the situation. "The point is to make you two comfortable around each other, not to stage some fake romance. But hey, if the chemistry works out in your favor, it's not a bad thing, right?" Her tone was light, but you could sense the subtle hint of persuasion.
You bit your lip, considering the reality of it. Drewâcharming, talented, and devastatingly handsomeâhad already made an impression during the audition, and though his professional demeanor had been disarming, you couldnât ignore the undercurrent of tension that had crackled between you both. But off-screen was a different game altogether, one where your vulnerability wasnât masked by a script or camera angles. The idea of spending more time with him outside the confines of rehearsals left you feeling exposed in a way you werenât sure you were ready for.
"Fine, Iâll do it. But if this turns into some media circus, you owe me a long vacation after this project is over," you finally agreed, letting out a deep breath that didnât quite ease the knot in your chest.
Kendra laughed, the sound raspy yet full of amusement. "Deal. Besides, you never know what might happen. Worst-case scenario, you make a new friend, right?"
But even as you nodded, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this arrangement than just bonding over scripts and coffee. Drew's name carried weight, and being linked to himâprofessionally or otherwiseâwas bound to stir something bigger than either of you could control. And for a brief moment, you wondered if it was the career boost youâd always needed, or a risk you werenât prepared to take.
"Alright," Kendra continued, breaking the silence. "Iâll set something up. Keep your schedule open for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" You almost choked on the word, your pulse quickening at how soon this was all happening.
"Yep. No time like the present." Kendraâs voice was cheerful, almost too cheerful. "Youâve got this, kid. Trust me."
The call ended before you could protest, leaving you standing alone in your apartment, staring at your phone. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the reality of tomorrow loomed over you. There was no backing out now, no escaping what was already set into motion.
You treaded over to your fridge, the soft hum of it the only sound in your quiet apartment. Pulling out the bottle of sangria youâd been saving for a special occasionâthough right now felt more like an emergencyâyou unscrewed the cap with a small sigh of relief. The deep, ruby liquid swirled into the stemware glass, filling it halfway as you watched the dark red hues glisten under the dim kitchen light.
It wasnât a celebration, not yet, but it was somethingâa moment to collect yourself before you plunged headfirst into whatever tomorrow would bring. You took a slow sip, letting the sweet, tangy taste linger on your tongue, savoring the small comfort it provided. The cool glass felt grounding in your hand, a quiet contrast to the chaos spinning in your mind.
With your hands pressed firmly against the cool countertop, your head hung low as you silently questioned how you ended up in this whirlwind of events. The soft buzz of your phone broke the stillness, pulling you back to reality. You glanced at the screen, and there it wasâa text from Kendra.
"I talked to Drewâs managers, they said he suggested having lunch tomorrow at 2. I'll have a driver booked for you around 1:30."
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, the words sinking in as you scanned the message over and over. Tomorrow. Lunch. With Drew. And with little to no time to prepare, your anxiety came to life, flooding your mind with a thousand what-ifs.
You stood there, staring at your phone, trying to piece together how you were supposed to handle this. Drew seemed perfectly polite at the chemistry readâcordial evenâbut one-on-one? Would he be the same, or was that all just an act for the directors?
Your mind raced through every worst-case scenario like a rapid-fire slideshow: what if your mind went blank, and you sat there fumbling for words like an awkward mess? What if you somehow got food stuck in your teeth, making a fool of yourself in front of him? Or worse yet, what if he wasnât the nice guy he seemed to be? What if Drew, the rising star with all that charisma on-screen, turned out to be an arrogant asshole in real life?
The swirling thoughts made your stomach churn as you stood in the quiet of your kitchen, your fingers gripping the counter tighter. It felt like the universe was pulling you into something far beyond your control, leaving you standing on the edge of tomorrow, unprepared and vulnerable.
You gulped down the remainder of your wine, feeling its chill cascade down your throat, sending a fleeting shiver through your chest. The slight buzz gave you a brief surge of energy, enough to momentarily push aside the weight of tomorrowâs uncertainty. In that brief spark of clarity, an ideaâunusual but oddly practicalâstruck you.
Without hesitation, you darted over to the couch, grabbed your laptop, and flipped it open with renewed purpose. The glow of the screen illuminated your face as you typed in the familiar search bar. But your focus wavered for a moment as the homepage tempted you with random recommendationsâcooking tutorials, music videos, travel vlogsâeach one a distraction you almost fell for.
You shook your head, quickly typing in the search: Drew Starkey.
As soon as you hit enter, the screen flooded with clips of interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, and fan-made compilations of your soon-to-be co-star.. You clicked on the first interview, your heart picking up pace as his face appeared on screen. There he wasâlaughing, smiling, completely at ease in front of the camera. His presence was magnetic, the same kind of charm you witnessed during the chemistry read, but now you were analyzing him in a different light. You werenât watching an actorâno, you were trying to get to know the man behind the character.
Each video you watched painted a picture of Drewâs personality, his mannerisms, the way he laughed mid-sentence, his casual but thoughtful way of answering questions. It was easy to see why heâd become such a rising star. He had that effortless charisma that made him seem approachable yet untouchable all at once.
As you watched one of his MTV interviews, something about a particular one shifted your perspective. Drew was talking about his methods for diving into a characterâhow he found little pieces of himself in each role and let that guide his performance. But it wasnât just the professional insight that caught your attention; it was the casual, almost vulnerable tone of his voice as he spoke about his life beyond acting.
He talked about college, how he had balanced classes and part-time jobs, how uncertain heâd felt back thenâjust like anyone else trying to figure out their future. He laughed about the odd jobs he worked before landing his first big role, like waiting tables and doing temp work. It was such a stark contrast to the larger-than-life persona the media often painted around actors. In that moment, Drew wasnât just the rising star you'd auditioned with; he was a regular guy who had worked hard to get where he was.
Suddenly, the looming anxiety of tomorrowâs lunch didnât seem as unbearable. If anything, the idea of talking to him felt almost comforting. You realized he was probably more grounded than you gave him credit forâdespite the fame, despite the rising spotlight. It was refreshing, and it put a part of your mind at ease. Youâd been so caught up in the idea of him as a powerful actor, you hadnât considered that, like you, he might just be navigating this career with a sense of uncertainty, too.
You closed the laptop and leaned back, exhaling a long breath. Maybe tomorrow would be more casual than you imaginedâjust two people talking, finding their rhythm, building that off-screen chemistry in the same way you had in front of the directors. For the first time, the thought of sitting across from Drew didnât feel like a storm waiting to hit. Instead, it felt manageable. And maybe, just maybe, it would even be enjoyable.
âčàšà§ïž¶ïž¶âč
âSeriously, Kendra, what should I wear?â you huffed, your phone perched precariously on the edge of your bed as you sifted through the chaos of your closet. Fabrics of every texture spilled over your arms as you frantically flipped through hangers, eyeing each piece with increasing frustration. Nothing felt right. You didnât want to come off like youâd tried too hard, but showing up looking too casual to lunch with Drew Starkey didnât feel right either.
âItâs just lunch, Y/N,â Kendra's voice came through the phone, nonchalant and steady as usual. âJust dress like you normally would. No need to overthink it.â
You paused, clutching an emerald green blouse in one hand, a simple beige sundress in the other. âBut what if I show up looking like a total slob, or worse, like Iâm trying too hard? I donât want him to think Iâm one of those actors.â
Kendra sighed on the other end, and you could practically see her lighting another cigarette in her usual blasĂ© way. âLook, you already met him. Heâs seen you act. Itâs not a pageant, itâs lunch. Just wear something you feel comfortable in and go be yourself. Youâve already impressed himâtrust me, your wardrobe is the least of anyoneâs concerns.â
She made it sound so simple, but the weight of it all still sat heavy on your chest. You werenât just meeting up with Drew Starkey; you were being thrown into this situation with someone whose presence alone had enough gravity to throw you off balance. Even though heâd been polite, kind, even reassuring at the chemistry read, today felt different. More personal, more exposed. What if you said the wrong thing? Or worse, what if there was nothing to say at all?
Your eyes landed on the black sundress, a light fabric that flowed in all the right waysâcomfortable, but still enough to make you feel put-together. You plucked it off the hanger and held it up in front of the mirror, examining its soft, understated elegance.
âOkay, okay, I think I found something,â you said, exhaling a breath you didnât realize youâd been holding. âA sundress. Itâs casual, right?â
âPerfect,â Kendra replied, almost as if she wasnât really paying attention. âRemember, Y/N, this is supposed to be easy. Youâre overthinking it. Just go, have lunch, talk. Youâve got nothing to prove to himâyouâre already Maisy.â
You nodded at her words, trying to absorb her confidence. âYeah, I know⊠Youâre right. Iâll text you after, okay?â
âGood luck, kid. Donât sweat it.â
The call ended, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The room suddenly felt too quiet, and you found yourself staring at the sundress again, smoothing out the wrinkles. Kendra was rightâthis wasnât an audition, not anymore. It was just lunch. But the thought of being alone with Drew Starkey for more than five minutes made your stomach flutter with anticipation.
It was already 1:30 before you knew it, and the driver was waiting outside your apartment complex just as Kendra had promised. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection, the black sundress clinging to your figure in a way that made you feel both presentable and oddly exposed. The sun streamed in through the windows, casting golden streaks across the floor, but all you could feel was the thrum of nervous energy buzzing through your veins.
You took a deep breath, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you prepared to step out the door. But just as your hand touched the doorknob, an impulse hit you, a wild flicker of hesitation. One more thing, you thought, as if somethingâanythingâcould make the looming lunch with Drew feel more manageable.
Without a second thought, you turned back and hurried over to the fridge. The cold hum of the appliance felt almost calming as you pulled out a bottle of liquor, the glass cool beneath your fingers. You reached for the shot glass on the counter, the one you hadnât touched in weeks, and quickly poured yourself a small measure of liquid courage.
With a swift motion you knocked back the shot. The bitter burn hit your throat like fire, and you winced as it traveled down your chest, leaving a searing heat in its wake. The burn did nothing to dull the nervous energy that coiled in your stomach, but it brought with it a flash of warmthâmaybe just enough to get you out the door.
You set the glass down with a clink, exhaling sharply. Okay. Just get this over with.
The city noise hummed in the background as you locked the door behind you, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you descended the stairs. By the time you stepped outside, the black SUV was already waiting, sleek and ominous, like a portal to the unknown. The driver glanced up at you from his phone, offering a quick nod as you approached.
This was it. You were about to spend the next hour or so sitting across from Drew Starkey, face to face, with no script to guide you. Just conversationâeasy, simple conversation. You repeated the words like a mantra in your mind as the driver opened the door for you, and you slid into the backseat.
The drive to the coffee shop felt like a blur, as though time had folded in on itself. Twenty minutes passed in what felt like mere moments, your mind a carousel of spiraling thoughts. Each new scenario played out in flashesâawkward silences, fumbling over your words, or worse, making a terrible first impression. You barely noticed the city streets, the buildings slipping by as your pulse quickened.
Before you knew it, the car slowed to a stop. You glanced out the window and felt a jolt in your chestâthe cafĂ© stood before you, quaint and modern with wide, floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to strip away all your defenses. You could already imagine Drew inside, perhaps sipping on his coffee, glancing up to see you through the glass. The thought made your stomach flip.
Your driver stepped out and came around to open the door for you, his gentle nod barely registering as you mumbled a quiet "thank you" and handed him a tip. As your feet touched the ground, the sunlight was warmer than you'd anticipated, but it did nothing to chase away the cold wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.
You stood there for a moment, frozen in place as you stared at the entrance of the shop. The cheerful chatter and soft clinking of cups inside only heightened your nerves. You could feel your heart beating harder, faster, each step toward the door a battle against your own hesitation.
Heâs just a person, you reminded yourself, trying to quell the panic rising in your throat. But it didnât feel that simple. Drew Starkey, with his effortless charm and natural presence, was far from just a person in your eyes. This wasnât a screen test or a scripted scene; this was real, and the vulnerability of it all felt like stepping into a spotlight with no lines to recite.
Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the front of your dress, squaring your shoulders as you approached the door. The reflection in the glass showed a version of yourself that seemed far more composed than you felt inside.
The moment you stepped through the door, it hit youâa wave of vulnerability like never before. The cozy warmth of the cafĂ© felt stifling, too intimate, too exposing. Every eye seemed like it could be on you, but none more so than the one pair you hadnât yet found. Your heart thudded in your chest, your breath quickened as your gaze darted around the room, desperate for a familiar face.
Heat flooded your cheeks, and you prayed Drew hadnât noticed your awkward search. You fidgeted with your purse, shifting it from one shoulder to the other in a vain attempt to appear more casual, less like a deer caught in headlights. Your arms instinctively crossed in front of you, a small shield against the sudden discomfort that surged through your veins.
Your eyes swept over the cafĂ©, landing on tables filled with groups of friends, couples huddled in cozy corners, and lone patrons with their noses in books or laptops. And thenâthank Godâthere he was. A tall figure with broad shoulders, his back to the door, sitting by the window.
Drew.
Relief rushed through you, as if finding him tethered you back to reality. He was alone, his posture relaxed, almost casual, as if this was just another day for him. You took a slow breath, allowing yourself a second to gather what remained of your composure. The butterflies in your stomach still fluttered, but at least now you had a destination, a focus that made the swirling anxieties just a little more bearable.
With as much confidence as you could muster, you made your way toward him, every step feeling like it stretched on forever.
"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you approached the table. You pulled out the chair opposite him, your nerves fluttering beneath your skin. "Thanks for taking the time to do this. I know you're probably super busy." The words left your lips with a quiet, breathy chuckle, an attempt to mask the awkwardness that clung to you like a shadow.
Drew looked up from his coffee, his eyes warm and inviting, as if to assure you that there was no need for nerves. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. "Actually, I have this week off before we start filming season 4," he explained with an easy laugh, his thumbs tracing the rim of his cup absentmindedly. "I needed to get out of the house anyway."
You laughed softly at his comment, reaching for one of the menus to give yourself a brief moment of reprieve from his gaze. Drew straightened in his chair, the subtle movement drawing your attention just before he cleared his throat.
âSo, how did you get into acting?â His question was direct, almost startlingly so, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made you feel suddenly seenâtoo seen. You werenât used to such earnestness from someone you'd only just met, but in a way, it was a relief. At least he wasnât skirting around small talk.
You shifted in your seat, caught off guard by his boldness, but grateful all the same. "Uh, well..." You started, your fingers tightening around the menu. "I was in college for a while, studying psychology, but..." You hesitated, glancing down as if the table could offer some solace. Opening up so quickly wasnât something you were accustomed to, especially with someone like him. Still, there was something disarming in the way he listened, waiting for you to continue.
"It didnât feel right," you confessed quietly, your voice softening. "I always had this dream of becoming an actress, ever since I was a kid. So, eventually, I just... dropped out and moved to L.A." You let the words hang there, reluctant but honest. You werenât sure why you felt the need to lay your cards on the table like this, but it seemed to happen naturally with him in that moment.
Drewâs gaze never wavered from you, his attention unwavering in a way that both flattered and unnerved you. You werenât used to being the center of someoneâs focus like this, especially not someone with his kind of presence. But his expression was kind, reassuring even, and you found some comfort in that.
âThereâs no shame in that,â he said with a gentle shrug, his voice warm and understanding. âI took acting in college, but if I had done anything else, I probably wouldâve left, too.â
His words brought a flicker of relief to your chest, causing you to sit up a bit straighter. You tilted your head slightly, your eyes tracing over his face, searching for any trace of insincerity but finding none.
âReally?â you asked, a light chuckle escaping your lips. âI donât think my school even offered that.â You tugged at your bottom lip for a moment, a nervous habit you hadnât realized you were doing until now. âBesides, I couldnât have done that anyway. I only went to school because my parents wanted me to. I was basically just trying to make them proud.â
Your confession came out more candidly than you intended, but in the quiet of the cafĂ© and under Drewâs steady gaze, it felt natural to share. For a moment, you expected him to change the subject, to keep things surface-level, but instead, he continued to pry.
"How did they feel when you came to L.A. to act?"
Your eyes widened slightly at his question, taken aback by his curiosity. It was such a personal, almost mundane topic, yet he was genuinely interested. "They were⊠wary about it," you replied, your gaze drifting down to the table as you absently picked at your nails. "But they told me theyâd support whatever I wanted to do. Though, Iâm pretty sure they thought I wouldnât make it very far, deep down."
You laughed softly, the sound half-hearted, as if trying to ease the seriousness of your own words. You didnât want to come off as too open or vulnerable so soon, but there was something about his attention that made it difficult to hold back.
Drew didnât look away. His focus on you never wavered, the intensity of his gaze somehow soft yet unrelenting, making you feel both exposed and heard.
"Thatâs tough," he murmured, his voice low and reflective. "Itâs hard enough chasing something you love, but doing it without knowing if the people who matter most really believe in you⊠thatâs even harder."
His words surprised you. Most people would brush off a confession like that or try to lighten the mood, but Drew leaned in, showing a depth of understanding that made you pause. You glanced back up at him, searching his expression. He wasnât offering empty sympathy. It was like he genuinely got it.
âYeah,â you responded quietly, nodding in agreement, âI guess Iâve always had that in the back of my mind, like this little voice telling me I need to prove something.â You hesitated, wondering if you should go deeper, but there was something safe in the atmosphere between you two. âI think thatâs why landing this role means so much. Itâs not just for meâitâs to show them I wasnât wrong for following my gut.â
A silence settled between you both after that, but it wasnât awkward. It felt purposeful, like both of you were letting the weight of your words sink in.
Drew gave a small smile, one that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the intensity of his stare. "Well, I think youâve already proven that. You nailed the audition, and now here we are. Youâre here for a reason."
For a moment, the two of you sat there, enduring a silence that wasnât awkward, but the tension felt almost suffocating. Drew's gaze lingered on you, so intense that it felt like it was burning through you. Heat rose to your cheeks as his blue eyes seemed to analyze every inch of your face. You wondered if he was searching for flaws, or maybe even finding them. You felt small under his stare, like you wanted to say something to break the tension, but the words wouldnât come. You were simply speechless under his trance.
"Have you ever taken a role like this?" Drew suddenly asked, breaking the silence as he took a sip of his coffee.
You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "What do you mean?"
"Like playing a love interest," he clarified, his voice calm, almost too casual for the depth of his question. "Have you done that before?"
Your brows furrowed slightly as you processed his words, feeling the weight of them sink in. "No, not really," you replied slowly, your voice quiet but steady. "Iâve done smaller roles, but nothing like this. Itâs⊠new for me."
Drewâs eyes softened, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding. He nodded as if he expected that answer, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasnât just asking about acting. There was something deeper to the question, a vulnerability you couldnât quite place.
"Thatâs interesting," he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. "Because it doesnât seem like it. You handle it like a natural."
His words caught you off guard, the compliment landing heavier than you anticipated. For a second, you werenât sure if he was still talking about the role or about something else entirely. The air between you thickened again, the tension suffocating, though not entirely uncomfortable. It was the kind of tension that made your heart race, the kind that left you wondering where the line between professional and personal blurred.
"Thanks," you murmured, trying to shake off the growing heat in your chest. You didnât trust yourself to say more. You could still feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction, and it made your pulse quicken.
âIt can be intimidating at first,â he admitted, his tone reassuring as he leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the table. There was a sincerity in his voice that made you feel at ease, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. âBut Iâll make sure youâre always comfortable. They can write some pretty crazy plot lines in there, so just let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable doing a scene. Iâll talk to Jonah if I have to.â
His words hit you suddenly, unexpected in their warmth and assertiveness. You paused, lips pursed in contemplation, trying to grasp the significance of his commitment to protect you from any overwhelming scenes. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken understanding as you wondered if this was the kind of guy he was towards everyoneâprotective and kindâor if this consideration was reserved solely for you, his co-star.
Regardless of the reason, you felt flattered, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as a sense of security enveloped you, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. His presence across the table offered a calming reassurance that you hadnât anticipated.
âOh, well thank you,â you finally replied, sincerity coloring your voice. âNobody has ever done that for me.â
There was a moment of silence, and in it, you could see a flicker of understanding pass between youâa shared acknowledgment of what was ahead. His blue eyes held yours with an intensity that made your heart race, as if he was searching for something deeper within you.
âItâs important,â he said softly, his tone earnest. âActing can be raw and vulnerable. Itâs easy to get lost in it all, especially when the emotions run high. I just want to make sure you feel safe.â
You nodded, a swirl of emotions churning within you as you searched for the right words. The moment felt fragile, hanging delicately in the air between you, and you didnât want to shatter it with any misstep. Yet, the intensity of his demeanor made you feel small and nervous, as if the weight of his gaze was both exhilarating and suffocating.
Breathless, you sat across from him, the man who was still practically a stranger, yet in this moment, it felt as if you had known him for years. There was a strange familiarity in the way he looked at you, a connection that ran deeper than surface-level pleasantries.
âThank you, Drew,â you finally managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, tinged with sincerity.
His smile widened, a warm and genuine expression that sent a flutter through your chest. âOf course. Iâd be happy to do that for you,â he admitted, softly biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips, as if caught in a moment of contemplation. It was a fleeting look, but it made your heart race, igniting a mix of anticipation and curiosity within you.
âAnd Iâm sure the rest of the cast will do the same. Theyâre great to work with,â he added, taking it upon himself to shift the mood, straightening his posture as if shedding the weight of the moment. You couldnât help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the change in direction, yet a part of you understood the necessity of pacing yourself. Maybe diving too deep too soon was better left for later.
âYeah, Iâve heard great things about them. Iâm excited to meet them next,â you replied, attempting to mask your intrigue with enthusiasm.
Drew nodded, his expression brightening as he spoke about the cast. âYouâll love them. We all hang out outside of filming too. Itâs like a little family, you know? Makes the long hours much more bearable.â
You giggled slightly at his comment, a lightness in your chest blooming as you absorbed the warmth of his enthusiasm. âWell, Iâm honored to now be a part of it,â you joked back, a playful lilt in your voice.
Drewâs eyes sparkled at your smile, the corners of his lips curving upward in a genuine grin that seemed to radiate joy. It was as if your lightheartedness sparked something within him, and for a brief moment, the cafĂ© around you faded into a backdrop.
âI think youâll fit right in,â he replied, his tone sincere and warm, and you could sense the unspoken camaraderie beginning to take root between you. It felt refreshing, as if he was offering a piece of reassurance that made going ahead seem a little less daunting.
You felt a surge of confidence at the playfulness in his tone, fueling the conversation further. âAnd what makes you so sure of that?â you teased, a hint of mischief in your voice, as if daring him to justify his statement.
Drewâs tongue grazed across his teeth as he pondered your question, his blue eyes narrowing slightly in thought. The pause between you was brief, yet charged with a subtle tension, the kind that comes when two people are testing the boundaries of familiarity. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see right through you.
âYou just seem like a likable person,â he replied, his voice soft yet confident, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sly smile. His tone was earnest, but there was something about the way he said it that made your pulse quickenâlike he knew more than he was letting on, like he could already sense there was more to you than what lay on the surface.
You couldnât help but smirk, leaning slightly forward as if to match his energy. âIs that your professional actor assessment?â you quipped, raising a brow, trying to mask the flutter in your chest with humor.
His grin widened as if your playful retort amused him. âMaybe,â he shrugged, leaning back in his chair, completely relaxed yet fully engaged. âOr maybe Iâm just good at reading people.â His eyes glimmered with something moreâan invitation, perhaps, to challenge him further.
Your heart raced slightly as you matched his stare, the game between you intensifying without either of you needing to acknowledge it. You felt emboldened by the easy rapport, as though you could push the conversation anywhere, and it would still feel natural, still flow effortlessly. There was something refreshing about it, and it left you wanting to keep the banter going just a little longer.
âWell, you could be wrong, you know,â you shot back, your voice lilting with amusement. âI could be the least likable person youâve ever met, and you wouldnât even know it yet.â
Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. âSomehow, I seriously doubt that,â he said, his tone low and smooth, leaving just enough mystery in his words to keep you guessing.
âI guess weâll have to see,â you shrugged nonchalantly, playing into the lighthearted banter. Drewâs eyes sparkled with amusement, as if your coy responses were entertaining him in a way you hadnât anticipated. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, there was something in the air between you that made it feel deeper, more charged.
He leaned in slightly over the table, his body angled toward you, his presence suddenly filling the small space between you. âYou know,â he began, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, yet still playful, âif weâre going to be working so closely together, why donât we start hanging out more? Itâll make everything on-screen more believable.â
His suggestion hung in the air, sending your mind reeling. Your initial instinct was to question itâwas this about the job or something more? His words seemed casual, but the way he looked at you now, with a sincerity that felt more personal than professional, told you there might be another layer to his offer.
You tilted your head slightly, trying to read him, your lips curling into a small smile. âYou think so?â you asked, your voice soft but teasing, leaning just enough into the moment to keep things light, while still acknowledging the subtle tension between you.
Drewâs gaze didnât falter. âYeah,â he nodded, his smile widening. âThe better we know each other, the easier itâll be to build that connection on-screen.â He paused for a second, watching your reaction, and then added with a smirk, âBesides, it wouldnât hurt to get to know you a little better off-screen too.â
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldnât help but smile back, trying to keep your cool. You glanced down at your hands for a moment before meeting his eyes again. âI guess that makes sense,â you replied, your voice light and playful, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
The suggestion seemed innocent enough on the surface, but the underlying implicationsâthe chance to spend more time together, to see if this chemistry extended beyond the lines youâd be readingâmade your pulse race just a little faster.
âAlright,â you said, leaning back in your chair with a shrug, pretending to be more nonchalant than you felt. âLetâs give it a try. See if we can make this whole thing more believable.â
Drew smiled in agreement, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that seemed to settle the tension between you. He opened his mouth, about to say something more, but was interrupted by the soft buzz of his phone lighting up with a text. He glanced down at it briefly before shifting his attention back to you, his smile still faint but genuine.
âItâs been nice getting to know you a little more. I really enjoyed this,â he admitted, his voice sincere. You noticed his gaze flicker toward the window, as though he was checking for something or someone, before returning to you. âWhy donât I give you my number so we can plan something soon?â
Your heart skipped at the casual offer, but you maintained your composure, feeling the air between you both shift into something more comfortable, yet still charged with potential. âYeah, that sounds good,â you replied with a small smile, trying to keep things light despite the slight flutter in your chest.
Drew pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen before handing it over to you. You quickly typed in your number, handing it back to him, your fingers brushing briefly as you exchanged devices.
âGreat,â he said, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, his smile widening. âIâll text you later, and we can figure something out. Maybe something less... formal,â he added with a playful wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. âSounds like a plan.â
"I'll see you later, Y/N." Drewâs voice was soft, still carrying that same warmth and kindness that had made you feel so at ease throughout the afternoon. He offered you one last smile before gathering his belongings and heading toward the door.
You watched him as he stepped outside, the sunlight casting a soft glow on him as he made his way to the black SUV parked out front. There was something effortlessly graceful about the way he moved, the casualness of it, yet it left you with a feeling of weightlessness. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you saw him disappear into the car, the sound of the engine starting up almost muted by the rush of your thoughts.
The cafĂ© around you sounded with the usual hum of life, but your mind was far from the present moment. Instead, it replayed every detail of the past hourâthe way he had smiled at you, the easy flow of conversation, the unspoken connection that had blossomed between the two of you. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the way it made you feel seen in a way that felt both exhilarating and unsettling.
As you sat there, a small smile crept onto your lips. The butterflies in your chest wouldnât settle, and you werenât entirely sure if you wanted them to. Something about today had changed things, and as you grabbed your bag and stood up to leave, you realized the anticipation for whatever came next was already beginning to build.
âââââââââ ౚৠâââââââââ
taglist: @romantic-punch, @cl4uus, @clearpoetryobservation-blog, @willowpains, @simp4f1, @kaiparkerwifes, @cali-888, @allthoughtsmindfull, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#obx#outer banks#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey imagine#drew#drew starkey x y/n#obx 4#drew starkey x actress!reader#actress!reader#drew starkey x female reader
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AND I GOT SMOKE, I TAKE IT SLOW, IâM NOT NICE, YOU KNOW WHERE I STAY
for @lionsaint
âIt must be fate,â Boba says, inclining his head in mockery, âto find you on my doorstep again, my Lord.â
âYour previous work has impressed me,â the vocoder translates over the wheezing, âsee that you donât lose my goodwill.â
âOn my doorstep like a wet tooka in need of cold meds,â he continues, inspecting a loose thread on his glove.
âYou insolent, littleââ
Boba blinks up at the talking dish steamer. âYou gonna kill me, my Lord?â He rests his head on one hand, fingertips glancing off the white hair on his temple. âAgain?â
âI imagined I had made my point.â
âNah.â
Vaderâs heavy steps echo around him and the Curse stirs under Bobaâs skin. Not yet.
âYour commission is to find the traitor Kenoââ
âOnce more,â Boba interrupts and leans forward, ânah.â He still owes Cody one hell of a favor. Kenobi is untouchable even if Boba knew where the Jedi was. He settles back, stretches his lower back out of kinks, and lets his legs fall open. With the towering sack of bolts and circuits itâs always the better odds to appear unconcerned and buyable. Speaking of. âBesides, you canât afford me.â
Growing up around covered faces makes him an expert on body language. So he doesnât miss the slightest tip of the black helmet, visor pointing towards Bobaâs crotch. Vader takes another menacing step forward. âOne day you will cease being useful to me. Your Curse will not be enough to protect you from me, Fett.â
Bones rise out of his body, getting to skeleton feet still connected to Bobaâs own. Glowing teeth snap at Vader in a grin. The threat has been accepted, rules may not apply.
âMy rates for bringing in a lowlife spice dealer might be still in the Empireâs price range, my Lord,â Boba suggests, absolutely not smirking at the vocoderâs best attempt to growl.
âYouââ
âHey,â Boba interrupts gently. Feeling pity for tall, dark, and wheezing will ruin his morning plans. But the Empireâs guild pays his bills and losing Vaderâs esteem will not benefit anyone. Not Boba. Not the kriffing Rebellion. âYou want to chop off my arm or something?â
âIt would make me feel better,â Vader allows after a second.
Boba hops up from the rubble mistaken as a chair. âAdmitting to feelings, my Lord? You got a new therapist?â He pats a black shoulder, indulging in a moment of self-pity that he has to reach up so high. âCome on, we both have places to be.â
âChop chop?â Vader suggests drily.
#boba fett#darth vader#star wars#star wars au#star wars fanart#my art#frostbitebakery art#not canon in the TUO AU#just aesthetics#star wars original trilogy
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crush (part 2) // abby anderson
*ăïŸïœ„* summary: i owe you a black eye and two kisses. tell me when you wanna come and get 'em. abby finally confronts her feelings in the spur of the moment, then gets scared and runs away. it all works out in the end, though.
*ăïŸïœ„* pairing: canon!abby x reader
*ăïŸïœ„* content: nsfw. nothing too crazy just some yearny sesbian lex using hands. light injury description and abby being a horrible communicator
*ăïŸïœ„* length: 2.9k
this is part two of this series! find part one here
i hope you enjoy the second part! i'm so down to write more of this so lmk if anyone wants it
abby keeps it all to herself. she enjoys having you as a friend, and reasons that itâs better not to mess it all up. just because you like her whole entire gender doesnât mean you like her. plus, sheâs not even sure about what sheâs feeling. figures that if she actually wasnât straight, sheâd surely have already known by now. but then again, she didnât know you back then. didnât feel what she feels around you.
then, one night, youâve been around at hers, drinking and watching a movie with manny. sheâd accidentally overindulged, possibly (definitely) out of nerves. youâd had to drag the chair and beanbag over in front of the TV, you and abby both piling onto the beanbag, chair not big enough to hold the two of you.
there was still barely enough room, and you were pressed up against her. at first, you were awkwardly perched, body rigid; but then, as the film went on and you had a little more to drink, you found yourself sinking into the seat, further into her.
by the end of it, your head is comfortably on her shoulder, laughing and chatting freely â she can smell your hair, feel the heat of your body against her, and she truly thinks she might combust.
once itâs gotten late, you say youâd better be heading back to your own place. abby tipsily insists on walking you back, even though itâs really not necessary. like, at all.
you jovially chat and giggle on the way back through the stadium, and all you can remember thinking is how glad you are that you met her. how rare it is for you to know someone who you feel so connected to, who everything feels so easy with almost instantaneously.
when you get to your door, she lingers around, keeping the conversation going even after you say goodnight â like she wants something from you, wants to say something but canât. thereâs a moment where it drops quiet, and sheâs just looking at you. studying your face, maintaining eye contact for probably longer than she ever has. thatâs when you realize sheâs automatically drifted closer.
and then, liquid courage coursing through her veins and affirmed by you leaning on her earlier, she kisses you.
itâs quick, and you donât return it. not because you donât want to, but out of pure shock â never in a million years would you have seen it coming. youâd fully shelved your crush on her, under the impression it was never going to happen.
before you have a real chance to react, she pulls back, cheeks tinged red.
you speak at the same time: her blurting out, "sorry, fuck"; you simply shaking your head a little, stuttering, âa-abby, iâŠâ
a beat passes, you slightly open-mouthed, abbyâs hands anxiously fiddling with themselves at her sides. immediately, sheâs sober. âfuck, i-iâm sorry. that was stupid.â
âno, abby, itâs justââ before you can finish your sentence, she mutters something inaudible and turns, beginning to stride off down the hall, feeling like a fucking idiot. of course you didnât like her, and sheâd just drunkenly ruined it all for nothing.
your call of her name, followed by a, âwait!â falls on deaf ears, and she turns the corner, gone. youâre left stunned, frozen outside your door, trying to process what just happened.
you want to go after her, have her allow you to explain yourself, but decide against it. you donât know if she really meant it, you donât know what her reasons were for running off; you donât know what the fuck to do. so, despite every ounce of yourself begging you not to, you simply go inside and try your best to sleep. you canât, though, mind whirring for hours on end until you finally pass out.
the next morning, you pray you run into her. usually, you always saw her at some point, but it was like she was avoiding everywhere you might be.
you see manny in the canteen later in the day, catching up to him and asking him where she is; he just shrugs, saying that sheâd picked up an extra assignment and headed out that morning. might not be back for a day or two.
you canât help but let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms. you knew it was on purpose. all over a kiss. âare you fucking kidding me?â
he gives you a funny look. âyou two have a fight or something? she was⊠quiet when she came back.â
rolling your eyes, you shake your head after a moment. basically the opposite. âno⊠no, we didnât.â
âright.â he quirks an eyebrow slightly, taking a breath. âyou want me to talk to her when i see her?â
you shake your head vehemently, furrowing your brow. ânah, nah, donât. just⊠let me know when she gets back, please?â
he nods once, tapping the side of your arm. âyou got it.â
you utter out a thanks, and with that youâre off.
you donât want to be mad at her, but you are. you donât know why sheâs running away from you, quite literally putting her life on the line just so she doesnât have to face you. what makes it so much worse is she didnât even give you a chance. if sheâd have just heard you out instead of storming off, there wouldnât even be an issue in the first place.
the next morning arrives, and abbyâs still not back. the whole day, you fight the urge to walk over to her apartment and knock on the door every five minutes. you know manny said a day or two, but you canât help but anxiously await her return the moment itâs plausible.
you try to keep yourself busy with work, but all your mind does is wander back to her. thinking about what sheâs doing, if sheâs okay, what youâre going to say to her when she gets back. you replay the kiss over and over in your head, scrutinizing every millisecond of it. what if the reason she freaked out was that she only did it because she was drunk, immediately realized she regretted it, and thatâs why sheâs avoiding you?
her absence just gives you too much time to worry, conjure up every worst case scenario. by the end of it, youâre essentially convinced she doesnât like you, that it was a mistake, and now your friendship will never be the same.
finally, around noon the day after, manny collars you in the hallway and lets you know abbyâs back. you let out a half relieved, half nervous sigh, nodding and thanking him. you canât go talk to her right away â youâre too swamped with work, on your way back from the shortest lunch break known to man, but you know the second youâve called it a day, youâre finding her.
itâs not until almost eight that you finally get to a place where you can break off, leaning back in your chair and running your hands over your face. you pack a few items away hurriedly, heart beating in your chest as you make your way over to abbyâs.
itâs not her who answers the door, though â itâs manny. you blow air out of your nose at the fact youâre seeing more of him than her at this point.
âwhere is she?â you question gently, as if he doesnât already know what you want.
the corners of his mouth quirk. âguess.â
âlibrary?â
he clicks his tongue in affirmation, and you roll your eyes fondly before telling him youâll see him later, turning to make your way down there.
standing outside the door, you realize how nervous you are. youâve wanted nothing more than to see abby since it happened, but now the momentâs here you canât help but feel hesitant about all the ways the conversation could go.
after a beat of psyching yourself up, you gingerly crack the door open, spotting her on the ottoman before gently wrapping your knuckles as you peer in. âknock, knock.â
she looks up, an unreadable expression on her face.
âcan i come in?â
she pauses, sitting up properly and placing her book to the side. âuh⊠sure.â
you smile gratefully, picking your way in and softly closing the door behind you. you make your way over, taking a seat next to her with your hands folded in your lap, avoiding eye contact. âsoâŠâ
you can see her fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt in your peripheral vision. âsoâŠ?â
looking up at her, you go to say your rehearsed spiel, then the words get caught in your throat when you notice the injuries littering her face. a couple of gashes are set into her forehead and chin, purple blossoming over her cheekbone.
âwhat the hell have you done to your face?â it comes out a little more frustrated than the caring tone you intend, but you are frustrated. if sheâd have stayed and listened, she wouldnât have been avoiding you, and in turn wouldnât have gone off and gotten herself hurt. you pivot your body to face her side, knee bending to rest your left leg sideways.
âitâs not anything.â
you tut, unable to help yourself from reaching out and running your thumb tenderly over the bruising. she pulls away from your touch slightly, to which you shoot her a look. âworse than i ever get.â
âyouâre sheltered.â
she says it matter-of-fact, and you know itâs true. youâve always had it better than her, better than most, never really being required to go into the field. both your parents are still alive, a rarity nowadays, both academics. the last time you were in real danger was simply when you were being moved into the base, going from safe point A to safe point B.Â
still, it stings a little.
âyeowch,â you respond as you allow your hand to drop from her skin, only half joking. âthereâs no need to be mean, abby.â
she rolls her eyes, still keeping her sight trained firmly ahead. âiâm not beingâŠâ she trails off, shaking her head a little and looking down at her hands. she moves to lean forward, forearms resting on her knees.
a pause passes that feels like an eternity, until you finally will yourself to speak. your voice is soft, low. âwhy did you run off on me the other night?â
she gnaws at her lip, not saying anything for a moment. âcan we just forget about that? it wasâŠâ
âa mistake, i know. you were⊠youâd had a few drinks. i know you didnât mean anything by it.â you finish her sentence for her, and she sighs and shakes her head in annoyance at how wrong you have it.
she swallows thickly in defeat, urging the words to come. she might as well tell you; sheâs already basically fucked everything up. what does she have to lose?
âthatâs⊠not it.â her words come out quiet, and she looks at you for the first time since you walked in, hands wringing in her lap.
you automatically shuffle a tiny bit closer, her leg warm against yours. âthen what is it?â
âi didnât⊠it wasnât⊠because i was drunk. it was because i wanted to.â she takes a deep breath, shoulders sinking. âand then⊠you reacted all⊠i donât know. anyway⊠you donât see me like that. can we just move on?â
you look at her, mouth opening and closing a little. your brow furrows. âoh my god. are you serious?â
âwhat?â she replies, a little defensively.
âi reacted like that because i was fucking shocked. as far as i was aware, you didnât even like girls, never mind me, and then you just kissed me out of nowhere. i didnât know how to react. and then, you didnât even give me chance to say anything and just walked off, and then i donât see you for two days,â you blurt out, floodgates opened.
itâs her turn to be speechless again, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. âso⊠w-what are you saying?â
you donât even bother to answer, knowing you can show her tenfold better than you can tell. you pull her up to you, hand resting on her jaw, pressing your lips to hers with a gentle urgency. she freezes for a split second before kissing back, one hand leaning on the ottoman behind you, the other coming up to cup your cheek.
you shift further in subconsciously, right leg going over one of hers and your free arm wrapping around her neck.
âjesus christ, abby,â you mumble against her lips between adoring smooches, âi canât believe you.â
she breathes out a chuckle. âsorry.â
you have sex for the first time that night. you invite her to stay over, not even having those expectations. you just want to be with her, want to feel close to her, wake up side by side.
but then it drops late, and your lights are on low, having spent the evening conversing on your bed with the tv droning in the background. youâre both on your sides facing each other, propped up by an elbow. and you look so pretty in the dim yellow light, she canât help herself from leaning in and kissing you, dripping with want.
you end up on top of her, fingertips stroking over either side of her face, hers pressing into your hips. all you can hear is your own pulse banging in your head, the labored, rapid breaths the two of you let out into each otherâs mouths.
you donât think youâve ever wanted anything this much. you can feel yourself soaking your underwear, and nothingâs even happened.
abby swallows thickly, pulling back for a moment, knowing where this is all going. âyou know iâve neverâŠâ she trails off, implicating the last few words, voice husked with arousal.
you pause to look at her, lidded eyes dragging over her face, a slightly amused smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.
âi know,â you respond, leaning back in to mouth at the corner of hers, before kissing down to her jaw. you continue to speak against her skin, voice low. âyouâll figure it out.â
and she sure does.
you make love to each other. itâs all slow, and testing, but wanting and desperate. a lot of abby asking every two minutes if what sheâs doing feels good, you guiding her and showing her how you like it. when you first flip her on top of you, tenderly taking her hair out from its braid and running your fingers through it, leading her hand under your waistband and showing her how wet youâve gotten for her, she truly doesnât know how the fuck she was ever, ever uncertain about her feelings.
you take your shirt off, baring yourself to her, then hers, needing to feel your skin flush against one another. her hands automatically move to make quick work of the lower half of your clothing, gaining confidence. and then youâre naked, spread out underneath her, all flushed and open mouthed, hips shifting into hers desperately â and itâs just like something takes over her.
she kisses over your chest languidly, exploring, needing to taste your skin. you gently take her wrist, moving her hand back between your legs, and your head falls back when she runs a finger through your folds. itâs a little clumsy, a little anxious, but abbyâs a quick learner. she finds a rhythm, circling your clit as her mouth attaches to your nipple.
âabby, fuckâŠâ you moan shakily, one hand tightening around her wrist, keeping her where it feels good, the other gripping lightly at her hair.
âis that okay?â she asks. sheâs looking up at you reverently, desperate to impress, and the sight sends even more heat pooling in your lower belly.
you nod hungrily and your hand moves from her wrist to her waistband, voice coming out a lot more needy than you intend. âtake these off.â
she obeys you without a word, and your free hand immediately goes to touch her, spreading her apart and toying with her clit, reveling in the noises it draws.
you make each other cum like that, touching each other at the same time, all needy and yearning. youâre first, abbyâs nerves getting the best of her, you unable to help yourself. it all builds and builds until it hits you hard, breathy, high pitched moans and whines of her name tumbling out against her shoulder. hearing you, seeing you like that sends her absolutely reeling, and itâs not long until sheâs there too. you pull her face level to yours with your free hand, threading your fingers through her hair, needing to look at her as she cums.
she looks so pretty, eyes screwed shut and brows drawn, parted lips rosy as she pants her way through her orgasm, unable to help the string of mmphs and low, strangled moans that escape her.
you work her through it, slowing your movements gradually, stroking at her face as she comes down. itâs quiet for a moment, just the sounds of the forgotten movie across the room and both of you attempting to regain your breathing.
âokay?â you ask, voice barely a whisper.
she nods, eyes still closed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. then, her mouth twitches, corners forming a small smile. âyeah. fuck.â
you mirror her, a tiny smile of your own tugging at your lips. âgood.â
kissing her nose lightly, you shift your hand away from her pussy and pop your messy fingers in your mouth, cleaning her off you, relishing in her taste.
she watches through hazy eyes, committing the sight to memory.
yeah. sheâs never looking back.
#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson#abby tlou2#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson smut#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson tlou2#wlw fic#lesbian fic#my writing
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