#it hurts so bad feeling like this and the feeling never goes away and idk if it got any better than before either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milksnake-tea · 2 months

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❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#—stellaronhvnters.#zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #zzz wise #zenless zone zero wise #zzz wise x reader #wise x reader #zenless zone zero wise x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️

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grlpartdoll · 2 months

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errrmm idk i have been feeling sluggish and kitty-like all day so I decided to indulge in some fantasies. poly141 with kitty reader who's just a wild, feral little sleepy princess. *mdni* and also be aware of mentions of violence as well as tiny bits of smut! I scribbled this like a madman with his poetry back in the days, under candlelight, breathing feverishly, needing it out of me like some kind of demon needing to be exorcised. So needless to say it's not perfect, not reread, not corrected. Just some raw piece of my messed up lil head! Okay ^___^ Oki enjoy.

wld u like... Da prequel?

It's no secret that you're the team's secret weapon — some half-wild failed scientist experiment that left you more animal than human. Most people don't know exactly what it is you do, or what has been done to you, but they know that if even Ghost is afraid of you, then they better stay in your good graces.

You're a small thing, compared to those men, though in the real world you'd probably be deemed average sized. But next to them, you're tiny, small, even. You play coy and gentle and kind, never having to lift a finger because your boys do it all for you.

Sometimes you will simply drop, lay in a ball, and catnap. Even if it's during training, or in the mess hall, or meetings.

One time, Price was there with his whole team, including you of course, and you were going over training with the new recruits, and talking about how their lives would be from now on.

Until then, everyone but Price had been quiet, simply looking out for him from behind. Until Gaz felt a tug at his sleeve. As instinct went, the recruits' eyes followed you as you rubbed your eyes, a slight pout on your face as you whined quietly that you were sleepy. Like a cat, you stretched yourself wide a long, though even with your arms up, you didn't surpass the men's heights. Arching your back, you pushed yourself up against him, quietly mewling that you wanted your bed.

Scouting the room, he noticed every seat was occupied, so he simply scooped you up, sent that little secret gaze to Price that told him their princess was sleepy, and simply left.

As the recruits toured the barracks, they found gaz and you splayed across one of the old, vintage couch, with you practically disappearing under Gaz's sweatshirt, your little hands (paws) buried underneath it, with your face shoved in his chest.

On another day, while you were showing the recruits how to spar, paired up with Ghost, you got into a particularly scary position, with him cornering you, with his arm around your throat, and you made that tiny, distressed noise in the back of your throat, and that was all it took for him to let go.

You immediately scampered away once Ghost was done telling the recruits how to do what he did exactly, and dismissing them. You were a bit skittish, like a cat, and when cornered, you often bit— went wild again and scratched eyes out, or anything that you could reach, really, and it often put you back into that violent little headspace. You didn't particularly like that headspace — ironic, that you were in the army, sure, but what else were you meant to do with what you were given? — but since it was Ghost, you let him, though unable to swallow the little noises that escaped you.

And he feels horrible for it — because he never wants to hurt their sweet little girl, and god forbid you actually start to fight back again like you did at first.

So he goes to search for you when he's done, cursing underneath his mask when he can't find you. He eventually does, though, finding you curled up in your room, in the adorned little crate Price and the guys had gotten you. When you got into a particularly bad headspace, you would go into the crate (an old habit instilled in you from your old keeper, who would always put you in the crate if you so much as argued with him) which had been covered in pillows and blankets and little string lights to keep you occupied and your mind empty.

You're curled up in there, holding a little ghost plushie to your chest, murmuring a song.

He sits beside you, and speaks to you, slowly coaxing you out until you're curled up in his lap and putty in his hands once again.

It always takes you a few days to come back to normal, but it's always worth it, because Ghost likes his little kitty.

It's no secret, also, that Price likes a desk pet. That he prefers doing paperwork when you're sitting with him, at his feet, your head serenely splayed across his leg.

That's what you exchange for him filling out your mission reports — he gets some company, and you get to go blissfully head empty when he scruffs you and you kneel for him.

As for Soap, he likes the wild little you, so he takes you with him on runs, where it often ends with him chasing you through the woods surrounding the base, and playing games with you. He will play at any games you want until you're all knackered out, whining for him to carry you when you head back for base. This is how you end up forming a routine with Soap, who naps with you every morning until the sun is finally fully up. Price and the others don't particularly think the habit is healthy — to sleep so much, but it's Soap's fault! He's the one who got you running after him, and from him, all over the base! It's his fault you're such a sleepy, tiny little lass. He feels bad to let you sleep it off alone, duh!

But alas,

When you're on the field, you're a completely different person. The best in your field— some might say. This is why, despite your silly antics, and your quite inconvenient sleep schedule, the team keeps you around. (And because they're quite literally crazily in love with you, but.. no one says that. It's casuuuaaaal.)

On the field, you're too active, you swing too hard, claw too deep, and exhaust yourself. And even then, you keep going. You keep running. You're a marvelous sneak artist, getting past thousands of guards. You're a perfect trickster, all it takes is puppy dog eyes and quivering chin from you for enemies to get you inside their strongholds. You're their best sharp shooter, and their best fighter, despite how wild and almost animalistic your fighting style is. You always get the job done, and always do it without hiccups.

But sometimes, of course, not everyone can be perfect. Sometimes, you have so much adrenaline and so much rage built up in you that once the mission is done, you have a hard time disconnecting, you have a hard time stopping your fists from pummeling into an already dead man's face.

You kick and bite and scratch the whole way out as they rip you from dead, cold bodies. Which is exactly why you and the boys have a safe home, where they take you after missions, and fuck you pliant and sweet, bringing you back to the sleepy little wandering creature you are around base.

Soap is the best at it, though, always going full nights at a time with you. Price can go two rounds, maybe four if he's angry with something (never you), Ghost maybe five if he's very pent up and you've been bratting at him, but Gaz and Soap are always the ones that manage to fuck you back into your place the best.

Gaz will be softly murmuring at you, cooing and mumbling sweet words to you while his cock is ramming into your sweet, slick little tight hole, always breaking your walls with the kindest, most softest words, even if each of his thrusts are seemingly bullying your hole into taking him deeper each time he pulls in, and out. In, and out.

But Soap is the one who outdoes your wildness, who bites and scratches like you do, who will let you ride him until you're spent, and then ask for more, bouncing your limp little body on his cock until he cums for the eighth time that night. He's the one who meets every each of your kisses with just as much ferocity, letting it become more of a fight then a sweet, loving gesture — forcing his tongue into your mouth, licking your teeth, nipping at your lips, just plain nasty and gross, until you're both panting and drool is covering both of your chins.

Anyway. I just think it would be a cute little thing, to witness them all match you in different ways.

#simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #tf 141 x reader #poly141 x reader #johny soap mactavish my beloved #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #poly 141 #kitty!reader #kind of weird if you squint #kinda gross #kinda sorta

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bandgie · 3 months

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In Pixie Dust We Trust

synopsis: You're content with being Chris's best friend for all eternity. It doesn't matter how big your heart is, you're small where it matters most. That's what you think at least.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, microphilia (reader is 7-10in/17-25cm), pussy eating, boobie sucking, reader used as a fleshlight (non-penetrative), cum eating (m!), jerking off, little bit of jealously in the beginning, does this count as monsterfucking? idk

notes: man, I did like 3 different rough drafts on this and said fuck it. ALSO?? I guess grammarly has limited help options now? fucking assholes

3.5k words

It would be impossible for Chris to hear you cheering for him amongst the dozens of shouting people, but you scream anyway.

“Go Chris!” You cup your hands around your mouth for extra volume, “Go, go, go!”

Mythics alike cheer for their representative species. Sirens, vampryes, lycans, and many more creatures roar for a winner. Despite the overwhelming number of Mythics, humans fill up a good portion of the audience to spur on Chris. He’s the only mortal in the swim meet, one of the rare humans to be able to compete against creatures like yourself.

Truthfully, you’re not too aware of the rules when it comes to swimming. Something about a certain amount of meters, certain strokes, and when you’re supposed to come up for air. The explanations went right over your head when Chris told them to you, but that doesn’t stop you from screaming your little lungs out.

“Jeez,” Felix rubs his ear. “Who would’ve thought a little pixie like you could scream so loud.”

You give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry!” You decide it’s better to find a better sitting spot. Felix’s shoulder is always your go-to seat, but you don’t want to burst his eardrums from your screams. Your wings flutter rapidly, raising you high until you plop on his blonde hair.

At least you didn’t have to pay for a seat. Being the mere size of a hand, you can easily sit on someone instead.

You lean to one side of Felix’s head, “This better?” He nods, making your grip on his hair so you don’t slip off. “Yeah. You can cheer for your human boyfriend all you want now.” Felix’s head lightly shakes as he laughs. A sheep shade of crimson creeps up your neck and you yank on his hair. “Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

You only feel a little bad when Felix whines. He reaches his hand to fight you with the wiggle of his fingers that you slap away while giggling. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“Whatever,” you slap the final finger away. “You deserved it.” Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes though you can’t see. “For what? Saying the truth? I’m a nymph, baby. You can’t hide those feelings from me.”

Now it’s you who rolls their eyes. As much as you would want to argue with Felix, he’s right. You may have the best friend title when it comes to Chris, but you want Chris in a way you know you shouldn't. You want to feel him hold you, have his lips pepper kisses all over your magical body until you can’t breathe. He doesn’t know how much you yearn for him when you sit on his shoulder, your wings bashfully fluttering when he talks low just for you to hear.

It doesn’t do any good for you to think like that. It’s better to blink those thoughts away and keep cheering, pretending you’re perfectly fine with being Chris’s tiny best friend.

But pretending is never easy for a pixie. Having such a small body does nothing to lessen the emotions you feel. Felix is doing everything he can to keep you from flying away and sobbing your heart out. When you two went looking for Chris to congratulate him on placing in the top three, neither of you expected the many female Mythics and humans to praise him.

“Hey! He’s just feeling excited from the race, he’s just super hyped right now.” Felix laughs nervously. “It’s no biggie. They’re just all congratulating him.”

You wish that were true or that you believed it. Instead, you’re frozen at the sight of Chris smiling from whatever they’resaying. One of them goes as far as to whisper in his ear, earning a deep blush from his wet face. Felix panics more. “She just- She said- oh damn.”

It shouldn’t bother you. If anything, you should be happy that Chris is finally getting the attention he deserves. He deserves people supporting him. Someone who can give him a happy, normal-sized relationship even if they aren’thuman. Not a pixie who is barely bigger than the size of his hand.

You blink your tears away, ignoring the ugly lump in your throat as you dejectedly fly next to Felix’s face. “It’s fine. Let’sjust go.” Felix whips his head to you, eyes wide with sincerity. “No! Pixie, we came out here for him. We can at least say hi then leave right after.”

There’s a twinge of hope in his eyes. Felix has been rooting for you since you told him about your unrequited love. Although you would roll your eyes at his support most of the time, it did boost some confidence in you. Now you realize it was all foolish. A stupid dream you should have kept sleeping.

You shake your head, “I can’t face him, Lix. Not when every girl in this damn city is trying to make him their mate. It’snot like he’d notice me leaving anyway.”

“You’re leaving?” Chris’s voice makes you and Felix jump. His hair is flat against his head from the diving cap he was wearing. It drips with water, leaking down his beautiful face to his naked torso. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

It’s only for a brief moment that you’re stunned. You weren’t prepared to see him so quickly. “Y-”

“No,” Felix quickly interrupts you. “She meant when is everyone else gonna leave. It’s so stuffed in here.” Felix looks at you wide-eyed as if to say don’t say anything before looking at Chris. “But dude! Congratulations!”

Chris’s signature dimple appears on his face. He wraps an arm around the nymph’s shoulder and brings him in for a hug.“I totally thought I was gonna get last. Those sirens are fucking fast.”

The embrace doesn’t last too long, not when Chris is eager to hear you praise him.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It was really impressive. I’m so proud of you!” It’s hard for you to do your normal joyful screaming, not when the bashful look he gave the mythic girl still lingers in your mind. You try to wipe the memory from your mind to focus on the mortal winner standing before you. The half-naked mortal winner that is.

“Yeah?” Chris lightens up at your words. His shining eyes warm your heart and your jealousy suddenly feels silly. “Fuck yeah! I knew you were gonna at least place in the top 5. But top 3? That’s Olympic shit right there.”

The flush on Chris’s face says it all. He rubs the back of his neck and giggles, a small squeak emitting from the back of his throat. “I would say thaaat.”

Felix laughs at the two of you, patting Chris on the shoulder. “I saw this Korean restaurant nearby - it looks super good. Minho told me that the chefs are all human. We should go before it gets packed!” The three of you look amongst each other and nod, humming about how hungry Chris must be.

“You can save a spot for us, Felix,” Chris smiles at him. “We’ll be there soon.”

You and Chris wave Felix goodbye. You wait until he’s out of earshot before you ask Chris, “Are we gonna meet up with him later?”

Chris smiles ear to ear. “We are. I was really hoping you’d come back to my place for a surprise.” Excited is the best word to describe him right now. His eyes shine with what you think is mischievousness. You can’t help the butterflies in your stomach. You smile at him back, “Now? Dressed like that?”

“Oh shit.” Chris suddenly becomes aware of his nude attire, save for the tight speedo. “Let me change first, then we’ll to mine.”

The naughty look on his face wasn’t for nothing. Chris didn’t necessarily plan to have you like this; nude and whimpering, but he isn’t complaining either. His intentions were pure, really. He had set up his apartment all sweet, miniature roses that could easily fit in your palms as he asked you to be his lover.

You thought of everything wrong at first. How strange it might look for your dainty self to be involved with a human. For him to practically live in the waters while you stay in the sky. Different, too different to work you said. You couldn’t help but think of all the other Mythics flocking to him; ones that he could benefit from and most importantly, ones that he can properly love.

Yet, all your worries were washed away in his eyes, full of love and compassion. He would love you because you’re you, no matter what size.

Now you’re thinking there won’t be enough time to meet Felix at that restaurant he’s been revving about when Chris’stongue ravages your body. Kissing him felt weird enough, your lips barely able to lock with his bottom one. But having him lick and suck on every part of your body easily took the cake.

Chris is holding you gently in his palm, your wings tightly tucked into your back so he doesn’t accidentally get them wet. The tip of his tongue dips down into your cunt before it swipes up to your breasts. You can tell he’s trying to be romantic about it, but there’s nothing soft in the way he suckles on your tits, how his saliva drips down the curve of your mounds onto his palm.

“Shit,” you moan when Chris finds your sweet, tiny pussy again. “You’re getting me so wet.” In response, Chris pulls away. You whine at the loss of contact. Your body shivers in his hold from the lack of his hot mouth.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” But he doesn't look apologetic at all. Not when he’s looking at you as if he might take a bite. Not when he licks his lips at the sight of your body spread out in his palm, twitching and soaking.

You reach a small hand up and grab the tip of his nose, earning a giggle from his pretty lips. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you push yourself up with an elbow to nuzzle against his face. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” the tips of his ears burn redder. “I like it too.”

The two of you share a laugh before you sprawl yourself back in his hold, opening your legs so his large tongue touches you where you need him most. Chris obediently nuzzles his tongue onto your cunt, flicking it upwards. Your hips chase the feeling, arching and twisting until he has to restrain you.

“Nooo,” you gently whine when he uses his fingers to pin your hands above your head. “Wanna feel it.”

Chris smiles, directing you to flatten your feet, spread your thighs, and arch until your back is completely lifted from his palm. It’s a weird position, but you wiggle in excitement when he leans his head down. “You will, baby,” he reassures.“Just gotta listen to me for a little, okay?”

You nod, forcing yourself still when you feel the familiar muscle on your core. It’s nearly similar to when you had the freedom to move, but there’s an extra layer of pleasure from being held back. For his tongue lick up and down, reaching up high to your stomach down to your ass. Chris doesn’t have to add much pressure, not when his tongue is half the size of your entire self.

The first taste of your orgasm builds when he swipes his tongue side to side. It moves your vulva perfectly, not focusing so much on your sensitive nub. Your hands grip his fingertips and you moan. “Channie…i’mma cum.”

He hums against your body, acknowledging your impending orgasm. Chris is too busy trying to get you on his taste buds. It’s more of a hint than a flavor of your pussy. If only Chris could drown in it. To feel these small thighs wrap around his head and yank him closer until all he can sense is you. But having your boobs and pussy in his mouth nearly at the same time is a huge win for him regardless.

Your walls clench, a clear sign that you only have mere seconds before you cum. Maybe you could ask Chris to put justthe tip of his pinky finger in. It would stretch you so much, so good. If you can’t take his cock, you’ll take the next best thing.

“In,” you mewl. “Want it in me.”

Chris raises an eyebrow at you, clearly confused by what you mean. He can’t put anything in you, he doesn’t even want to think about it. He shakes his head with your pussy in his mouth, back to focusing on the task at hand.

“Channie!” You nearly scream his name. “Please! I’ve been good. I’ve been so good! Just the tip of your finger and-”

He sucks hard, making your entire body move from the suction. You wail, digging the back of your head further into his palm. He sucks and licks, obviously trying to get your mind off of being filled and instead finishing on his tongue. It works because all you can think about is flooding Chris’s mouth with your juices. You think about how good it’s going to feel to have his big tongue on you, licking you up.

You dig your nails into his fingers and tense. Chris places the tip of his tongue perfectly on your clit and you finally cum.

He holds you while you shake. Chris can feel the trembling of your body, he can taste the essence of your orgasm, and he can hear your pretty little moans as you tip over. He can’t help but giggle at how your little hips roughly rock against his tongue. Deciding to give you a different sensation, Chris puts his tongue back in his mouth and puckers his lips instead. The plushness is the best way to ride out your high, gentle and soft.

You collapse in his hands when you come down. You can only whimper when he carefully nuzzles your body against his face affectionately. Chris peppers kisses on your body, from the top of your head to the soaked place between your thighs. It helps get you refocused by grounding yourself from his touch. You return his kisses, placing your hands on either side of his cheek and feeling his mouth against yours.

It feels like he’s trying to swallow you or maybe not trying to. You can’t really tell, but you don’t really mind. All you care about is how he whimpers against your lips, making you concerned about his state.

You pull from his lips and adjust in his hands until you’re sitting. “It hurts. Doesn't it, Channie?” You don’t need to specify what you’re talking about. Not when you can see the need in his eyes, the pout in his lips. Chris nods, almost ashamed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “I dunno what to do about it.”

He looks so dejected, so lost. Your wings untuck from your back and flutter until you’re lifted in the air. Chris’s eyes drop to your breasts as if he wasn’t just drooling on them minutes ago. You snap your fingers until he looks into your eyes. “I know what to do. Why don’t you sit down for me and let me take care of you now.”

You can tell he’s hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know how he wants to. Chris easilylistens to your instructions; how you want him stripped from the lower half, sitting on the couch with his legs sprawled open so his hard, leaky cock is pretty on display.

Chris looks nervous, you can tell by how he grabs a nearby pillow and hugs it to his chest. “Are you sure, baby? I don’twant you to hurt yourself.”

How endearing your lover is. Willing to sacrifice his pleasure for your comfort.

You fly to his lap and rest on a meaty thigh. “You don’t gotta worry your pretty little head about nothing, Channie.” You reach out a hand to rub it against his cock. “I can handle it.”

Before he can say anything else, you quickly find your place on his shaft with your back facing him. You gasp at the warmth, the thickness of his cock between your legs. Your body is already wet from your orgasm, so it’s easy to gently slide against him. The veins from his cock seem huge this closeup and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when your clit goes over one.

“You’re so big Channie,” you hum, looking back. “Almost as big as me.”

Chris giggles shyly, adjusting in his seat so he slightly slouches against the cushions. You turn back to face his tip and place your little hands on his dick to balance yourself. A whine leaves Chris’s throat when you grind against him higher. Your hands reach out to play with his tip, swirling around the sensitive flesh and having your fingers rub against his slit.

His hips thrust up and you let out a surprised squeal.

“S-shit, sorry,” he moans. “I didn’t mean to.” Chris is being so careful not to have you slip off, but it’s nearly impossible for him to keep still. Not when he can see your entire body jerking him off, your little ass humping his cock so nicely. He especially loves the wet trail that you leave behind with every grind.

You laugh, “It’s okay. Just means you’re feeling good.”

Since you’re just slightly bigger than his length, you decide it would be better to lay completely flat on his cock and slide yourself that way. It’s silly though, humping his dick in a way that reminds you of the nights you spent on your tiny bed touching yourself at the thought of Chris. Now, you’re able to put all that practice to good use.

With your legs wrapped around the base, you find it much easier to slide yourself. To go at a speed that has Chris moaning and fisting his hands into the sofa. Your tongue lolls from your mouth as you moan with him, effectively adding moisture that makes everything wetter.

“Baby! Baby, baby, you’re gonna make me cum just like that.” Chris pants. One of his hands shoots down below his cock, tugging his balls to help get him closer. You tilt your head to look down at the sight, whimpering at how he holds and rubs his sack.

It makes you go faster. You practically squeeze his cock with your limbs almost painfully. Chris only finds pleasure in your hold though. Without thinking, Chris wraps his other hand around his cock and you. Your wings immediately find cover behind your back so they don’t get damaged. The hand around you tightens slightly.

“You want me to use you, hm?” Chris carefully drags you up and down his length. “Be my little cocksleeve, is that it?” You can’t even be a fleshlight to him, but you can be useful. it’s near impossible to nod with how he’s holding you, but you let out a breathy yes. Your arms are locked at your sides from his grip, legs open and limp so he has more access to use you how he wants.

You underestimated how slippery you would get. How his precum would leak onto your hair and face. A part of you thought it would be uncomfortable being pressed up against his cock like this, but all you can feel is how warm he is. It feels good to have him use your body like this, having your clit brush against his girth.

Chris isn’t as careful this time, not that you mind anyway. He grunts with every drag, squeezing your body tighter until you whimper. You feel his cock twitch under you and your cunt clenches in response.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he grunts. “Wrapped around my cock so tight.”

You whimper. There isn’t a chance that you would be able to cum again. Your cunt is roughly pressed against his dick to get any real friction, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling any pleasure. “You’re using me so good, Channie. You gonna cum on me too?”

There isn’t a need for Chris’s confirmation. Not when the hot spurt of his release spews from his cock. You can’t see how far it shoots up, how it lands up to his thighs and leaks onto his hand. The only ounce of cum you get is on the top of your hair, a sticky, warm glob of white.

Chris releases you quickly, letting you get the proper chance to breathe and rest on his pulsing cock.

It doesn’t last long, not when two hands carefully lift you and bring you close to Chris’s face. His neck is a deep shade of red. The blood rushes to his face to give off a pink hue. Even the tips of his ears burn with the same color. As fucked out as he looks, he still has the energy to give you an endearing smile.

Your lips twist shyly, “Why are you looking at me like that? You know I’m completely covered in your cum, right?” But Chris only leans in and uses his nose to nuzzle against your face.

“Mhm. My very own pixie dust.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz bangchan #skz bang chan #bangchan fic #christopher bang #bang chan smut #chris skz #chan smut #skz chan smut #bang chan

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banj0possum · 11 months

Note

I immediately apologize for the bad English!

How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐

ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3

Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2

CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon

🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.

🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.

🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.

🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.

🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.

🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.

🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.

🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.

🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.

🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..

🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.

🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.

🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"

🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...

🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.

🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.

🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!

🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3

🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.

🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..

🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!

🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.

🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"

🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"

🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"

🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.

🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~

🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..

🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!

🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.

🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.

🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.

🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."

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goldfades · 5 months

Note

Paige nsfw hcs pls

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! read at your own discretion!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | the long awaited nsfw headcanons for paigey, i finally got the motivation to write it after i kept reading the INSANE smut yall keep writing (keep it up im lovin it) also this is such a mess, this is just rambling and not organized whatsoever, but wtv i hope yall enjoyed :)

woo, where do i even begin?

let's begin with the obvious, paige is a TOP, i can't stress this enough

i genuinely can't see anyone topping her she's just .... a TOP

but that doesn't mean she won't let you take the reigns every once in awhile, esp after a bad game/tiring practice because everyone once to be taken care of sometimes

i'm def not the first person to say this and certainly will not be the last but STRAP GAME GOES SOOOOO HARD

i feel like at first she's gonna be weirded out cus like... she likes only girls for a reason??? and she has her mouth and fingers??? why would she need a piece of plastic to make her girl feel good???

but the first time y'all try it, she's hooked

she forgets ab her hands after that

jk but like

yeah she's HOOKED

she gets really into it LOL, def can imagine her calling the strap her dick

oh and she fucks HARDDDD like, no room to breathe or anything

like you'll be gasping for air after and she'll be super duper proud

i read this one fic with like the dual ended one (i didn't even know that existed) and then i was like yep, yes this is the oneee

with positions, i can't see her doing anything more than like missionary (cus she loves to see your pretty face) and like from the back

but as soon as she discovers riding, it's OVERRRRR for you

she's making you ride her strap anytime she can, cus she loves it

she has her hands on your hips as she's guiding you and she LOVES IT so fucking much, like the power she has over you makes her go feral

oh and do not get me started on sucking her strap, cus again she loves the power she holds over you

she has your hair in a ponytail and the more you get comfortable with the whole thing, she WILL make you gag

she acts like it's her dick (yeah i know we covered that) but like esp when you're sucking her strap, she will just dirty talk u the entire time

"you like my dick, pretty girl? like gagging on my dick?" cus yeah, u do

oh and yes, she does have breeding kink

it breaks her heart that she can't get you pregnant 😪

but she sure as hell will pretend to!!!!!

will 100% bend you over and just yap about getting you pregnant

also if she's fucking you in missionary, she expects you to look at her the entire time

so if you turn away, she will grab your face and keep you looking straight at her

FUCK IDK WHY THAT'S SO HOT

paige is a D1 yapper i fear, and that would 10000% seep into the bedroom LMAO

mostly praise cus babygirl would feel really bad but when she gets into, she GETS into it

like she will call you her slut as she's about cum

that post-nut clarity goes hard the first time tho cus she's like no way i called my gf a dirty fucking slut 😭😭 she sits with her thoughts for a good 10 minutes trying to recollect herself

she is a munch for sure, like she will eat you out for hours and hours on end (not an exaggeration btw)

but she LOVES when you give back

it makes her go fucking feral when she sees you eating her out, like yessssssssssssss

she has to close her eyes bc if she keeps looking at your face, she WILL cum

she has a bad hair pulling problem, like she will grip your hair so hard your head will hurt after

it's apart of the appeal tho 🎀

her fav spot to get absolutely ate is her gaming chair cus like, she needs you in between her legs giving her support to get that victory royale 💯💯💯

she hates when she gets ass or tits bc she genuinely cannot pick

it depends on the day bc they're both great, she will never pick one

i feel like she's definitely thought ab fucking you in public but she can't risk it

SHES A D1 ATHLETE !!

the only time yall did was in a bathroom at an event and it was SOOO bad afterwards cus everyone could tell

you had to pretend like you didn't get your brains fucked out and paige had to pretend she didn't DO the fucking

but lowkey she enjoyed it a lot, but would she do it again?

maybe, a solid maybe (with the right motivation)

okay but like ....

she def has fingered u while the girls are over cus like, she was in a silly mood?

you just looked too fucking good, she had to

but thank god no one noticed (at least to yalls knowledge...)

she's a horny fuck ARGUE WITH THE WALL

she will get turned on by anything you do, like homegirl is just sooooo down bad for you

you could be applying chapstick and paige will be like "we need to fuck, now."

paige's aftercare is just giving you water and cuddling with you for 10 mis while scrolling on tiktok and then gets up to play fortnite with kk

she literally is the tiktok where it's like "after he rearranges my organs he goes and plays fortnite" i hope yall know what i'm talking about

but you don't mind ofc cus she makes you sit on her lap while playing

but then turns into another round cus shes a horny fuck

paige is all for hickies on YOU but she gets pissed when you give her a hickey cus she's like people are gonna see

like she's the only one who has to deal with the public 🙄🙄🙄

but she loves marking you EVERYWHERE, esp on your collarbone like it's so sexy

oh and god bless you in the summer, the ones on your thighs are getting AIRED OUT bc paige does not care

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #ncaa wbb #women's college basketball #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb

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weird-is-life · 6 months

Note

hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33

Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)

You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.

Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."

You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."

"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.

"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.

Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.

Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.

Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.

As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.

"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"

"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."

"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.

"Just because," Spencer beams at you.

You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.

"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.

He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.

You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."

"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.

It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.

You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.

You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.

You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.

"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.

"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.

"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.

You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.

"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.

"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.

"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.

Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"

"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.

You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

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leighsartworks216 · 11 months

Note

Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content

Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.

Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.

Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.

Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻

- 🦇

I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)

Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,392

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.

So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.

There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”

With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.

You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.

“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”

To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.

“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”

Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.

He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”

He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.

“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”

That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”

He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”

You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”

Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”

“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”

He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”

Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”

He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”

He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.

Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog

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forestshadow-wolf · 1 month

Text

Imagine soap has to go undercover for an op (idk) as a billionaire playboy, ghost is there as another patron, and ghost and gaz are on overwatch (bruce wayne type shit yaknow? Also he definitely made a batman joke). And he almost gets caught, or he does something for the op that would look suspicious and definitely get him caught but then he remembers the role that he is playing ang gets the biggest light bulb idea ever. It's a bad idea. He promised himself he wouldn't do this anymore. It always ends badly. But they're going to get caught it he doesn't, and if they get caughtthey. Low the mission and they'll see Ghost's face and ghost absolutely doesn't want that and that's only for him. He hands ghost the intel, and then.

And then he starts stripping off his jacket. Orders himself a scotch. Waits for it to come out. Downs it then orders another one. And then he's making a scene. Getting loud and rambunctious. His shirt comes off. And his drink come out when he's swinging around in the air above his head. He knocks it back and orders another. The shoes go. And the pants follow. His drink comes and that one goes down the hatch too with another one on the way. And by now his judgment is... shoddy at best, but he's no longer suspicious. Ghost, Gaz and Price are definitely wondering what the hell he's doing, and he'll need to be dragged home by the end of the night, but right now he's having fun.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots a rather large and ornate ice sculpture. And well... up he goes. Clad in only black boxers and matching socks he's dancing up on the sculpture's platform. It's cold through his socks, and the ice sucks the heat from the air between him and it's form, but the alcohol keeps him warm and fuzzy. He spots his drink being carried over, and yells down for someone to get him his drink, an anonymous hand reaches up with his scotch and he takes it. This one doesn't go as quickly. He keeps it with him. And then he's grinding against the ice. Putting on a show. Smile broad. Laugh loud. Hands in the air. There's people telling him to get down now, hut the crowd wants more. And who is he to deny his the crowd? He can hear pice telling him it's enough, but he's drunk and having too much fun. His hands fly up into the air so he can scream in delight. The glass goes flying. And the entire place gets silent save for the music when it crashes. A moment passes. Two. Then he's cheering and the destruction and the place explodes into chaos again.

The drinks keep coming, and the not party keeps partying. And at some point they're able to get him down. And all he remembers from then on is ghost swooping in to get him and the warm, strong arms he falls into.

He doesn't remember getting back. Or what happened after Ghost saved him. But he does remember waking up. It's well past morning, the light through the window hurts his eyes; even closed; and his head is pounding, and he's fighting a losing battle with the nausea, even as he keeps stiller than a statue. But it was a battle he was never going to win. A retribution for his actions of a night full of sin and destruction. And he's flying for the toilet on instinct alone, and just barely makes it because he's puking his guts up. There's a hand on his back rubbing soothing circles on him. It's large, and callused, and warm, and new. And it doesn't stop as he spits into the water. Nor as he stays there incase his roiling stomach tries to turn inside out again. It's comforting. A comfort he's never had. And he thinks he might like it.

And when he finally thinks he's done he grabs for the handle and flushes his sick away, and sits back on his arse. The wall does the work of keeping him up, he's sweaty, he can feel the cold stick on his face. And when he looks up it's Ghost who sits before him. And for some reason that shocks him. And what's more is that he doesn't look disgusted or angry or any of the thousand other looks he's seen after a night like this. No it looks.... soft? And something else that looks a little like pity, but doesn't feel like pity. His mouths tastes sour and foul from stomach acid, but it's a familiar enough taste that it no longer bothers him enough to make him move to amend it.

Ghost gives him a glass of water, and he watches him. Soap does think he even blinks. Not as soap takes a mouthful of water, swishes it around his mouth then spits it into the toilet. Nor as he takes another swig to soothe his burning throat. Nor as he leans his head back against the wall. His head hurts. His everything else is sore. He's forgotten what last nights did to him. And still Ghost doesn't look away. And then.

"Are you okay?" It's soft, like he's being careful not to hurt him. And almost hesitant, like he's unsure if he should speak.

And then he honest to god asks him if he's okay. As if this wasn't his punishment. As if he didn't deserve the splitting headache or he roaring nausea or the bright lights or the too loud sounds or the reprimand that is surely coming his way.

"I will be." It's true. He will be. But right now he feels like death chewed him up and shat his out again. And he's trying to remember how bad he hot last night so he knows how much trouble he's in. And he just needs one more moment before he gets up to see price to collect whatever punishment duties he's in for.

When ghost doesn't respond he cracks open an eye. And. Ghost has a staring problem. But then again everyone in the 141 has problems. Maybe Ghost knows how much trouble he's in.

"D'ya ken what duties Price has me on fer las' night?" It's an off-hand question, he's not expecting anything, really. Maybe Ghost even has some of his own. Ghost makes a small sound, and it makes soap open his eyes to look at him properly. His eyes are sad when they look at him now. And he doesn't know what he did.

"Johnny-" he starts, then he stops. The mask he's wearing moves like he's licked his lips and soap wonders when he learned that tell. "You're not in trouble." Ghost says it softly, sadly, pityingly.

"It's 'k, Ghos'. I ken wh't 'm like on nights like tha' just wanna know what I got m'self into. I'm trouble." He doesn't know how to soothe Ghost, but he hopes that helps.

It doesn't.

"I'm serious, Johnny, you're not in any trouble." Ghost sounds almost hurt to his ears, but he's also hungover so he doubts it.

"'S'k if you dinna' wanna say. I'll ask price in a min. Jus' go' get dr'ss'd."

Maybe part 2 if you beg I remember

#el rambles #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #john mactavish #soap mactavish #call of duty #cod #cod mw2

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tsukasalvr · 11 months

Note

Idk if your requests are open or not AAHH! But if they are:

(Possible TW in my request for mentions of depression, anxiety, commiting di3 joke)

Could you do a reader with bad depression and anixety. And maybe one day reader makes a joke about 0ffing themself and then they dont show up to school for a few days

Characters I would prefer(from TBHK): Kou, Teru, Hanako, Akane(boy)

You can add more if you like! :)

Im sorry its not very specific, this is my first time requesting something

Also sorry i know topics like these are difficult for some people <3

depressed!reader who makes su*cidal jokes

Anime/fandom: Tbhk

Characters: Kou Minamoto, Teru Minamoto, Hanako, Akane Aoi

Warnings: I don’t proofread, depressed reader, mention of suicide

A/n: just got broken up w by my pookie wookie☹️💔

Tbhk masterlist | Main masterlist

Kou Minamoto

Is immediately put off by what you’re saying and is immediately concerned, and gets even more concerned once you get together and just stares nervously at you while stuttering, not knowing what to say

“That’s so embarrassing, if that were me I would kill myself no doubt! Being so stupid like that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself!” You casually said while looking at a post on your phone.

“O-oh… umm…” Kou is at a loss for words sometimes and tries to brush it off by moving onto something happier to distract you from thoughts like those

When you make a joke that’s one day too far he genuinely seems so much more concerned and ask if you’re okay. He gets so worried about you that it’s best not to make jokes like that near him.

If you don’t show up the next day, he gets worried and is immediately trying to leave school early even though he knows Teru will berate him later for it, he needs to see you’re okay and when he arrives to your house and sees you are, he’s very serious about not making jokes like those again and is invites you to his house more often to distract yourself and is willing to help you get help

Teru Minamoto

Gives you a nervous smile when you joke about suicide and even when you you’re dating he still gives you an obvious fake smile to not hurt your feelings. He knows that outright saying that if you need someone talk to talk to can be annoying sometimes so he’ll try to subtly let you know he’s there

Whether it’s from talking about a topic of a documentary of a tragic life of some celebrity and all they needed help to having Kou telk you that you’re part of the family and that you can tell them anything when you’re over at their house

“I can’t stop messing this up! God I really should’ve taken those pills when I had the chance, what the hell!” You said angrily at the fact you couldn’t get the string through the small hole in the needle.

Teru could only smile at you, he never says anything to your ‘jokes’, but then he stops and just goes to frowning hoping that you’re not being serious

When you don’t show up the next day, he’s not super worried and just assumes you’re late but sends you messages. But after a few hours the messages become more frequent and by the end of the school day he’s running to your house scared. When he sees you’re alright, he’s pissed and says enough is enough and he’s not taking anymore jokes and is instead going to help you

Hanako

He might laugh at your jokes, but it’s only so he doesn’t worry you. He’s not an unfamiliar when it comes to stuff like this and he knows you might now want to talk about it right away so he’s fine with trying to take it slow

On the inside though, his ghostly heart is scared that you’re it joking and you’re actually being serious. He can’t bear the thought of you dying—and especially dying this way so he keeps a close eye on you and has Kou and Yashiro even make sure that you’re doing okay

“God, I’m so stupid and useless” you say with a laugh as you look at your test result and shove the paper back in your bag

Hanako stares at you, and lets out a laugh that’s believe enough. He’s conflicted on what he should do, should he ask how you’re doing? What if you lie to him? Would you even want to talk to him?

It seems as if his worries have come true when you didn’t show up to school the next day and asks if Yashiro or Kou have seen you at all and to message you on those weird electronic things. Yashiro only agrees to go to your house when Hanako asked because she too was worried about you. Hanako waits impatiently the next day and sees you and you tell him you were just feeling sick. If he could, then Hanako would definitely cry and basically forces you to promise to tell him if anything is wrong with a scared and worried expression on his face

Akane Aoi

You’re the most precious person in his life so he takes everything very serious when it comes to you. A paper cut? He’s getting ready to call an ambulance for you and is frantically asking you if you’re okay.

So joking about such topics near him immediately alarms him and hea on full protective mode with asking if you’re joking or not. He takes everything you say seriously, he cares about you a lot so to see you laugh about it, hurts him a little

“What if I jump out this window right now? I really do want to do this test!” You whined and looked over at the window that was right next to where you were sitting.

Akane had a prominent frown on his face, he knew you weren’t exactly mentally okay and you’re jokes were becoming more and more frequent

He’s on full panic mode when you don’t show up to school the next day and the worst possible outcomes are immediately coming to mind. He hopes he’s wrong and is blowing up your phone and is willing to mess up his perfect attendance streak for you, he’ll fix it later. But when he sees you overslept and your phone died because wig wasn’t charged, he’s disappointed. He knew it was getting worse if you dying was what came to mind when you didn’t show up so he pledges to help you

#tbhk x y/n #tbhk x reader #jshk x y/n #jshk x reader #minamoto kou x reader #kou minamoto x reader #kou x reader #teru x reader #teru minamoto x reader #hanako x you #hanako x y/n #hanako kun x reader #hanako x reader #amane yugi x reader #amane x reader #aoi akane x reader #akane aoi x reader #akane x reader

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fortheloveoffanfic · 2 months

Text

Broken Chords

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: this got out of hand and became something it wasn't supposed to be. Maybe there will be more? Idk maybe if everyone doesn't hate it

Author's note #2: (Just to add a shameless plug to this note; for my other Hozier works, check out my AO3)

Summary: It's been years since their break-up, and still, Y/n and Andrew just can't seem to let go of each other.

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, Angst

Andrew would like to think he knows himself pretty fucking well. He knows what he likes, what he doesn’t. He knows when something’s bad for him. Tequila, ice cream after dark……her.

She is bad for him.

So why can’t he ever seem to remember that when it matters most? When he's home alone after spending months surrounded by people. When he’s out drinking with his mates, he smells a familiar perfume. When they’re both at the same wedding, he starts thinking “maybe if things were different….”

She always looks so good in green, especially darker tones so its no wonder that's the colour she’s chosen this evening. Andrew knows that dress too, she bought it for a charity event they attended together a couple years ago. He distinctly remembers seeing her in it for the first time, the way he drew in a sharp breath, the way the silky fabric felt under his palm when she asked him to zip it up – the thrill he got when it pooled at her feet after he'd peeled it off her.

Y/n must feel his eyes lingering on her from across the room, because after a handful of seconds she turns and their gazes meet. He knows that’s his cue to look away and do a terrible job of pretending that he hasn’t noticed her, but he doesn't because she’s something of a siren and he loses all sense when they’re in the same room.

Taking a sip of his whiskey, he swallows harshly, holding her gaze over the rim of his glass. She's absently running a manicured finger around the top of hers, and he remembers that its something she does unconsciously. He wants to smile, or wave, or do something that constitutes more than just standing there like an idiot, but he can’t. He can’t do anything but think about what it would be like if they’d gone there together.

She’d ask him to dance and he’d say no at first but cave no more than a minute later because even if he has two left feet, he loves how it feels when she rests her head on his chest. He’d watch his friends get married and think about all the times his mother suggested making Y/n his wife – but not say a word of it to either of them because he doesn't think he’s ready to take that step. They’d go home together, and Andrew would carry her inside, because she took off her heels in the car and the gravel on the driveway makes her feet hurt.

Upstairs, in their bedroom, Y/n would push off his coat and comment on how she likes seeing him dressed up like that, and then he would inch that green dress off her shoulders and it would stay on the floor, next to his suit coat, until late the next morning.

But he’s not there with her. Though, Y/n is approaching him now so he thinks maybe the night is gonna end like that anyway. Because there isn’t a universe made by any God in which he doesn’t find himself tangled up in her. Even if he knows how it ends, even if he knows that she isn’t right for him, even if they’ve broken each other’s hearts half a dozen times by now, he goes back.

“Hey.” She begins simply, with a smile that can't be anything more than polite, “How’ve you been?”

Alive, thinking about you more than I probably should, he wants to say.

“Hey. Ehm, I’ve been alright,” he shrugs, “Just um, workin’.”

“Right, of course. Working.” Working, why is that all that he’s said, surely he could’ve offered a bit more.

“You?” He asks.

Y/n takes a slow sip of her champagne, nodding as she does. “Good, I've been good. Just you know….working.”

“Workin’,” he repeats with a nod that mirrors her own. Its funny how they used to have so much to say to each other. He’s never been a man of many words, and Y/n isn’t exactly the chatty type, but they used to be able to talk for hours without more than a couple minutes of silence. The most mundane thoughts would spark hour long conversations, pillow talk would span well into the am and morning coffee chitchat would keep them at the kitchen table until lunch. There used to be a time where it seemed like his every thought was shared with her, and Y/n did the same.

They lapse into silence for a moment, and when the music changes to something slower and the dj starts encouraging guests to cozy up to their dates, Y/n sets her half empty glass down on the bar just past him. “Do you wanna dance? Just one song, I promise,” she smiles, and that time its beautifully hopeful.

Andrew chuckles hesitantly, “I haven’t gotten any better at it.” In one swing, he finishes off his drink and rests his glass next to hers before offering his hand. Hers is just as small, and just as soft as he remembers

They find a vacant spot amongst the other guests in the area designated for dancing. Instinctively – almost as if the last time they stood together like that was yesterday – Andrew slips his arm around her waist, splaying his hand on the small of her back. The fingers of his other hand are laced with hers, settled near her shoulder as they ease into a slow sway.

“You cut your hair,” Y/n marvels softly upon pulling her head back a little.

“Just took a couple inches off,” he confirms in the same hushed tone.

“It looks good,” Y/n says, and he feels his heart skip a little. Compliments from her always mean more than they would from anyone else, even if its about the same haircut he's been getting since he was twenty-two. “Better than the pictures make it seem,” she adds in a whisper.

Andrew swallows thickly; she’s been keeping up with him, even if they haven’t spoken in months. The thought is strangely comforting because God knows he’s been doing the same. “I heard that you’re seeing someone.” And by heard, he means read.

“I’m not,” Y/n shakes her shoulders slightly. “I mean…I was, but I’m not anymore.”

He knits his brows, hoping to hide his relief, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t serious,” Y/n licks her lips, “Are you?”

“Am I serious?”

She chuckles softly, the sound airy and musical. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh!” He scoffs. What the hell is he thinking? “No,” he shakes his head, “ehm, I've been on a couple dates,” set up by friends who are hoping to help him move on, “but they didn’t work out.”

Her next question stuns him; “why?”

The song changes, but neither of them make a move to pull away. Thinking on her question, Andrew fumbles with his words. Certainly he can’t tell her that its because he compares every woman to her and none of them ever come close. So he decides to go with a poorly strung together lie. “Just….. incompatible, I guess.” When Y/n offers nothing more than a hum in response, he tentatively probes, “why didn’t it work out with you and your….?”

“Because….” Y/n pauses, searching his eyes before opting against whatever she was going to say, “it doesn’t matter.” Casting her gaze to their lazy feet, she leans her had against his chest – finally – and the sigh that tumbles off his lips is one of relief. He doesn’t think there’s any lyric he could piece together, or any word of any language, that could properly describe just how much he’s missed that. The lack of even a thread of distance between them, the way his heart ticks a little differently when her ear is over it, the smell of her shampoo when he bends to look at her while he’s nestled against him.

He doesn’t pressure her for a response, he isn’t sure if he even wants to know anything that will ruin the pleasure of having her with him. “I’m staying upstairs. 27,” Y/n says, just as the second song ends and the maid of honor announces that its time for the bouquet toss.

“Yeah?” Andrew licks his lips, “I think I might just go home after,” he adds, trying to gauge her reaction, but she's always had a good poker face.

Though, her expression falters just a little, so quickly that its almost unnoticeable, “right. Of course. My flight’s pretty early tomorrow anyway.”

His jaw tightens a littles, but he nods and smiles, “right.” He wants to be as good as she is at playing it cool and unaffected. He wants to just be able to pack up and leave their relationship behind like it was nothing, but just standing there in front of her is taking more out of him than it should, chipping away at his resolve and undermining his self-respect. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” he swallows thickly, going against the voice in his head that practically begged him to not say that.

“Mhm,” Y/n hums, “maybe next time?”

Andrew clears his throat, “Yeah, maybe.”

Y/n doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead tilting her head a bit to the left and narrowing her eyes just a little, as if she’s just seeing him. He’s about to ask what she’s thinking when most of the guests start gathering at the front of the room, getting ready to catch the bouquet. “I should go,” she declares.

Slipping hands into his pockets, Andrew offers the chaos behind him a quick, casual backwards glance, “Don’t wanna try to catch the bouquet?” He manages a barely there, lopsided smile.

And Y/n doesn’t return it; for the first time since their end, Andrew truly sees how he’s hurt her. Y/n furrows her brows, and stares at him as if he’s just asked her something completely outlandish. “No,” she shakes her head. Taking a step forward, she arches up on her toes – because even in four inch heels its hard to reach his face – and kisses him so close to the corner of his mouth that it would only take the slightest shift on his part for their lips to meet. “I’ll see you around Andy.”

He’s too stunned to react, and by the time Andrew has mustered up a reply, Y/n is already near the double doors that lead out of the small hotel’s dining hall and his fingers are lingering on the stop that she kissed.

An hour and a half ater

Threading his long finger through his wind mused hair, Andrew fixes his gaze on the gold plated numbers mounted above the off-white door.

22.

He’s back at the hotel after having left the reception shortly after Y/n did. He doesn’t even know who caught the damn flowers; he was too focused on trying to convince himself to not go after her.

Despite that, he’d made it to his car and then all the way home. Opened the front door, turned on the lights, walked to his refrigerator and got himself a beer. And then he closed the door and one of the pictures they took after he’d played a show in London was just there, stuck to the door with a little magnet shaped like the Big Ben. With the cap covered by the edge of his jacket, he twisted it open and took a swing of the beer, the bitterness of the hops not making him wince near as much as the grayscale memory taken by a phone with a number that he tries his best to not call.

He’d made it all the way to his car….and then a night where Andrew had sworn he could hear her voice above every other in the crowd and her lips were more intoxicating that any whiskey could ever be, came back to him and now he’s at the hotel again.

But hey, he lasted an hour and a half, so that's something.

Well, technically it was fifty-five minutes. But he's not interested in technicalities.

As he stands in front of the door, thumb flicking the corner of the polaroid, he finds himself half wondering why she’s never the one that comes crawling back. He knows the answer, mostly; Y/n has always had more resolve than him, she's good at guarding herself.

She’s even better at knowing her worth.

But him? He’s as close as anything gets to a walking definition of insanity; Andrew thinks he'll go back a thousand times if she’ll have him.

He’s pretty damn good at being on his own until he catches a glimpse of her face.

Shaking off his thoughts, he finally approaches the door and gives it three, brief knocks before slumping against the outer part of the frame. Y/n doesn’t answer immediately, and there's a little part of him – that’s blue and cold and nursing the pain of a wound that runs too deep to heal – that hopes she doesn’t open up. But his luck is as good as nil.

Her eyes are as sullen as his and much redder when Y/n pulls the door open. The green dress is gone, replaced with a pair of shorts and a sweater that resided in his closet long before he even met her – he’s been wondering where it went. Andrew is only a little disappointed that he didn’t get to peel that dress off her himself, he’s more concerned with the glassiness of her eyes and the way Y/n sniffles when she sees him.

“You okay?” He peers gently, thumb courting the dull edge of the picture.

“I thought you went home?” Y/n squints her eyes a little, “I saw you leave,” from the window she'd sat at upon returning to her room. She'd held her breath as he walked to his car, leaned closer when he pulled out of the spot and finally, fell apart as she watched the taillights disappear in the distance.

Andrew shrugs, still leaning on the frame. She's close enough to have to tip her chin to meet his gaze, but neither of them take the initiative to step backwards. “I came back,” he explains simply, slipping the photograph into the pocket of his slacks.

“Why?” Its a loaded question, he thinks. Why did he go back? Why does he keep going back, when he knows forgetting is the hardest part? Why does he do that to himself?

Why does he do it to her? Its the first time he’s ever asked himself that one. Maybe its because tonight, she’d been crying.

Reaching out to brush away a stray tear from under her eye, Andrew shrugs. He swears, when he curves his palm against her cheek, Y/n leans into his touch. Her fingers close in around his wrist loosely, and she stroke the side of it with her thumb.

“Can I come in?”

He’s telling himself that if she says 'no', he’ll just turn around and leave. Accept that its officially over and finally move in.

But he won't. He can think it all he wants but he won't. He'll grovel if he has to. Tell her he needs her -because it's true. He'll lie and say it's the last time if he thinks it's what they both need to hear.

“Sure,” Y/n manages, voice soft without moving back.

Lowering his face, Andrew presses his lips to hers, gently urging her into the suite. The lights are on, but he doesn’t pay much mind to anything around him. Instead, he slips his arm around to the small of her back as their kiss grows more impassioned. When she almost trips over a haphazardly discarded heel, he tugs her closer to his chest, before finally succumbing to lifting Y/n off the carpeted floor. Her legs go around his hips immediately and when they break for a moment, she holds his face close to hers.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he rasps, “you need to stop.”

“I can’t let you go,” Y/n counters, voice small and sad, “I can’t just let you disappear from my life just like that.”

Then why won’t you just be with me? He wants to ask, but the idea is gone the minute she kisses him again, and all he can think about is being with her right there, in that moment. Fuck the rest of the world or all the ways she’s broken his heart.

He barely has time to undo the button and zipper of his pants after setting her down on the bed, because her hands are reaching for him the minute her back hits the mattress. Unceremoniously, she pushes off his suit jacket before clumsily getting to the buttons of his white shirt. “I love when you’re dressed like this,” she manages, breath hot on his skin as the plastic buttons fall victim to her eagerness.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he presses his lips to the side of her face, inhaling deeply before kissing his way down her jaw. His hands slip under the sweater after she pushes the shirt off his shoulders, and her skin is warm and smooth. With hurried ease, he peels the sweater off and casts it off to the side before lowering his mouth to the valley between her unclad breasts.

Y/n’s fingers slide up his back, settling on his shoulder blades as Andrew litters the swell of her breasts with small, purplish bruises. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he mumbles against her skin while gripping her hips and urging them off the bed so he can push her shorts down. “You're always on my fucking mind,” he mummers, nibbling on her skin.

Her nails graze his scalp, lithe fingers tangling in his curls, inciting a sensation that only she can rouse with a gesture so small. Gooseflesh along his skin, electricity up his back and a shake in his breath. With her toes, she shoves his pants and boxers down, and they get tangled up in the messy sheets. Her hips arch towards his, and reaching between them, he guides himself to her entrance. “Fuck,” he heaves upon feeling her wrapped around him.

Connecting his forehead with hers, so the tips of their noses touch and he can taste the lingering remnants of wine on her breath, Andrew stirs his lips in a leisurely pace.

“Andrew,” her voice breaks and a thread of moisture trickles from the corner of her eye.

Halting his movements, Andrew regards her with a mixture of concern and longing. “What?” He moves his hand from the pillow beside her head to cup the side of her face, “Did I hurt you?”

Y/n holds his face, thumbs making loose, circular patterns at the apple of his cheeks. “No,” she lies. “No,” Y/n sniffles again, “keep moving…..please.”

Burying his face in the side of her head, soaking up the aroma of her coconut shampoo. Y/n nuzzles the side of his face and he can hear her erratic breathing matching the thump of her heart. She’s clinging to him for dear life, and the only thing keeping his weight from smothering her is his hand buried in the pillow next to her head, while he tangles the fingers on the other in her hair. Andrew is eager to keep her close, just in case its the last time she lets him near – or by some miracle, he finds it in himself to let her go.

He treats every time like the last time, because in his head, it is.

“Andrew,” she eventually heaves again, and he feels her legs tighten around his hips as she tries to buck her pelvis towards his. Her fingers curl and he can feel her crescent shaped nails digging into his skin again.

“I wanna see you,” he coaxes, “look at me,” he pleads when Y/n buries her face in the crook of his neck, “I need to see you.” When she pulls away to meet his darkened gaze, Y/n slides her hand from his back to brush some hair from his face before settling her palm on his cheek. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart…..so fucking perfect,” he rasps, lowering his face to hers.

As her back arches, Y/n’s toes curl and she feels the knot in her stomach tighten. The friction Andrew stirs with his desperate, quickening pace coupled with the way he reaches something inside her that no one else ever has ushers her to the cusp of exhilaration. It doesn’t matter who she’s been with before – or after him – no one will ever compare; there isn't a person in the world that can make her feel what she feels when he runs his calloused fingers along her sides, or anything that’s even remotely as pleasurable as the heat of his mouth on her neck while his beard bruises her skin. Every time they’ve been together, she’s worn the mark of him, the ache of his memory, for days and Y/n doesn’t think there’s a version of her that can live without it.

His name tumbles off her lips again, that time with the insistence that she’s close. The pressure mounting in her center broils over in a flurry of panted breaths and garbled obsenties. “Andy….fuck, Andy,” Y/n is putty in his hands, moulding to his whim as he rides out her climax.

“Fuck,” Andrew groans when he feels her clenching around him. Her legs locked around his lips, the way she pulsates around him and his own, impending high makes the controlled jerk of his hips falter. He’s caught between wanting it to last longer and being shamelessly desperate for release.

Reaching for her thigh in a bruising grip, Andrew holds her in place as he finally reaches blinding gratification. “Y/n….Jesus sweetheart,” he groans, struggling to maintain the roll of his hips. His fingers hold a fistful of the sheets in a white knuckled grip and Andrew presses his forehead to hers for a second before angling his head to catch her lips in a sloppy kiss. Her teeth drag along his lower lip, exciting a sound that stays trapped in his throat.

Andrew rolls onto his back as their heavy breathing slows. Y/n is nestled against his chest and his arm immediately goes around her while he uses his free hand to pull the sheets over them. Neither of them speak for a while, but he knows she’s awake because he can feel her finger trace lazy patterns on his chest while he stares up at the ceiling. The fan mounted above them is spinning so quickly that he can barely make out the individual blades, but it doesn’t do much to combat the lingering heat on their skin, expressed only in the shine of sticky moisture.

It takes a while before he can think straight again, and even then, Andrew wouldn’t credit himself with much sense, because his next words are thick with emotion and marred with an urgency that is sure to give away his desperation. “Don’t leave.”

“What?” Y/n can’t bring herself to look at him; she doesn’t think she can stand the desperation in his eyes, that way he looks at her when the dust settles and she remembers why they can’t be anything more than tangled limbs and messy sheets. Usually she’s good at pretending that she doesn’t see it, but its been a long night and right now, all she can think of is everything they could be when he says;

“Don’t go…..back. Don’t get on the plane tomorrow.” His fingers trail up and down her spine, their familiar roughness rousing a comfort she hasn’t felt since the last time they were wrapped up in each other.

Its unusual for her, but Y/n can’t bring herself to say ‘no.’ Its never been easy, but she’s always been able to push him away before he gets close enough to hurt her again. Always, expect for tonight, after the wedding that dredged up memories from the worst time in their relationship, after Andrew showed up at her door with only the best of them at his fingertips.

After he, for the first time in a damn long time, asks her to stay.

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #andrew hozier byrne x reader #hozier x you #hozier fanfic #hozier imagine #fanfiction #broken chords

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miley1442111 · 6 months

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what about reader (jj's sister) and rafe getting into a fight and they go to a party separately, and reader makes him jealous and he ends up exposing them to the pogues and it's huge fight

omg this is such a fun idea! idk if i did it justice but I hope you like it <3

family feud

a/n: this isn't exactly canon rafe bc this rafe isn't fully insane so sorry if that bothers you lol. i wrote this for a fem reader and reader wears a dress but imagine whatever you want :) also sorry, jj is kind of an a-hole in this one :(

pairings: rafecameron x reader, brotherjjmaybank x sisterreader, platonicpogues x reader

summary: rafe pisses you off, you got to a party and piss him off... but what happens when jj, your brother, finds out about him?

I'm mad. I'm really fucking mad. I want to piss Rafe off just as much as he pissed me off. The one day a month that my house is empty and we can actually spend time together, Rafe ghosts me and goes fucking golfing. So yeah, I go to the party in a dress that he got me, one he wanted me to wear for him. So…. I wear it to dance with Pope. Pope and I will never see each other like that, we're like siblings, but he’s the only pogue who knows and is even slightly ok with Rafe and I dating. He still hates him, so he’s enjoying this. I catch a glimpse of him. His eyes are dark and he’s staring, a red solo cup in his hand. He nods at me to come over, I shake my head and focus on dancing. The music is loud, really loud. My feet hurt from dancing and honestly I want to make up with Rafe. I want to be near him. I want to stop ignoring his texts. His hundreds of texts. His hundreds of calls.

I had to start leaving my phone at home he was calling me so much. I feel bad, but the idea of reconciling with him feels far-fetched and I'm not bothered to text him back. I don't even know where my phone is.

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

“He’s looking,” Pope shouts over the music. I haven't seen Rafe for an hour, I don't even see him now.

“Let him look!” I chuckle back. “He fucking deserves it!”

Is this the best way to communicate my feelings? No. Should I probably just tell Rafe how upset I am? Maybe, but knowing him he’d just treat me like one of his groupies, which I am not. I’m his girlfriend of 8 months.

I feel a hand grab my arm and I gasp. I look up to see Rafe.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I hiss, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Pope steps away, saying something about getting another drink.

“You. You’re my fucking problem. You come here, in that fucking dress I bought you and you dance with Pope fucking Heyward. You don’t give me any fucking attention after I’ve been blowing up your phone for days,” He’s mad. He’s really fucking mad.

“Sorry, I was too busy,” I smirk, snatching my arm back.

“Busy doing fucking what exactly?” He smiles one of his bitter-angry smiles and my sense of pride strengthens. I’m making Rafe Cameron mad. I’m making Rafe Cameron jealous.

“Golfing,” I smirk and his face drops.

“That’s what this shit is about?! If you would’ve just fucking asked baby- I would’ve come over, and none of this would’ve fucking happened! I wanted to be with you that day- fucking Topper pissed me off all fucking day- baby, you should’ve told me-” He gets cut off by a swift punch to the face.

“Get the fuck away from my sister Rafe, or I’ll kill you myself,” Jj shouts, John B holding him back. Rafe gets up from the ground, I can see how furious he is and I grab his hand, leading him away from my brother. He obliges and follows behind me. I weave him through the party-goers, Kiera and Jj shouting my name as we slip away. I bring him into the bathroom, sitting him on the counter as I search for a first-aid kit.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Rafe sighs, his breathing sporadic. “Topper, he’s- he’s gonna- he’s gonna beat him u-up. He-he’ll kill him i-if he gets the chance.”

I look up at him, first-aid-kit in hand. “Baby, breathe. I’ll text him now.” I take out my phone and send Topper a message, making him promise to not touch my brother or friends. He promises he won’t, but I know better and tell him to get the car started and that I’ll bring Rafe out to him in a few minutes. “See,” I show Rafe the messages. “He’s going to the car.”

“Ba-baby I’m so sorry,” His eyes start to water, and my heart breaks. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s ok Rafe. I was just mad, I’m sorry,” I smile and start to clean his cut lip. His hands find their way to my waist, holding me gently.

“I love you,” He blurts out and I drop my hand from his face. His face goes red and he looks down, I smile. Rafe Cameron; Kook King- loves me. Hm.

“I love you too handsome. But right now, let’s focus on not getting mauled by my brother again, yeah? Let’s get you to the car and then home,” I smile and kiss his cheek, taking his hand to bring him home. He nods and follows. Outside the bathroom is Jj.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?” He grunts, stopping us from walking by.

“We’ll talk about this later Jj-”

“We’ll talk about this now,” He pushes.

“Jj, fuck off!” I push past him and bring Rafe behind me. We get out of the house to the backyard where almost everyone is and I hear Jj practically scream my name. Everyone looks either to him or me and Rafe and I sigh.

“Jj please-” I try but he cuts me off.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on between you two? Or do I have to ask around?” Jj shouts and grab someone’s collar, “You know somethin’?” The guy shakes his head, cowering back. He drops him and walks closer.

“Jj, stop being a dick-”

“We’re dating. We have been for 8 months,” Rafe pipes up from behind me and Jj’s mouth drops open. He lunges forward, but instead of getting to Rafe, he knocks me to the ground. My head hits the hard ground and I whimper in pain. Rafe is immediately by my side.

“You’re ok baby, don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine,” he soothes as he cradles my head in his hands.

“Rafe,” I start to cry into his touch as I feel Jj’s hand in mine.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jj sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, back up,” John B pulls Jj away as Rafe helps me up.

“Can we go home?” I whisper to Rafe as I wrap my arm around his bicep, holding onto him for steadiness.

“Of course baby.”

I knew I would inevitably have to deal with Jj but tonight, tonight is for Rafe and I.

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