#just going ‘what the fuck’ real quietly on repeat

[nakylvr]

— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

[beloveds-embrace]

(even more designationless!reader…)

The idea had clung to you like a ghost, silent and persistent. A whisper of possibility, a gnawing what if that refused to let go, lurking in the quiet spaces between your thoughts.

It started as an offhanded remark- just a passing suggestion from an Omega medic flipping through your file, his frown deepening at the blank space where a designation should be. He’d leaned in closer, like he was sharing a deep secret even though you’d heard of it before.

“You know, there’s a new procedure. A way to synthesize a scent, balance your hormones. Might help you fit in better.”

At the time, you’d laughed it off, a dry, hollow sound. You were fine. You had learned to live without instincts, without scent cues. You had a pack now- wasn’t that such a wonderful thought? You, of all people, with a pack- and they never made you feel lesser for it.

But still…

Still, you would never stop noticing the way strangers hesitated when they got too close, noses twitching as they tried to find something that wasn’t there. The way some looked at you like you were an anomaly, a hollow space where something vital should be.

The pack never made you feel wrong. But the rest of the world did before and after them.

So, you started actually looking into it. Quietly; and what you found was terrifying.

The procedure wasn’t just some simple injection or pill, wasn’t like the time you got yourself a pheromone perfume. It was invasive- gene therapy, hormone treatments, scent gland augmentation. Synthetic pheromones would be forced into your system, rewriting the very foundation of your body’s chemistry. The risks of rejection and infections were high. The list of potential side effects was even higher- neurological damage, sensory overload, organ stress. Death.

It wasn’t just expensive. It wasn’t just painful. It was dangerous.

And yet, the thought had taken a root far too deep to be simply pulled out.

What would it be like to walk into a room and be known? To have a scent that soothed your pack, something that would mark them the way they marked you with touches and borrowed clothes and lingering words? The pheromone perfume had been temporary, but this- it could be permanent. A cure.

It took weeks before you built up the courage to bring it up to your pack; weeks of staring at catalogues and brochures, google searches all on the costs, the risks, the very, very few who had tried it.

Sitting in the nest one evening, curled between them, you hesitated before you gathered enough courage and spoke. “I found a way to get a scent.”

The reaction was immediate, though you weren’t surprised. They’ve likely heard of the procedure before.

Johnny turned his head sharply from where he had been sprawled beside you, brow furrowing. Kyle, who had been playing absently with your fingers, froze. John, seated at the edge of the nest with a book in his lap, went still. And Simon- Simon growled. A low, rumbling thing that vibrated through your ribs, curling up inside your chest like a warning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your throat went dry. “You know about that procedure, right?” your words were careful, hesitant. “It’s… expensive. But it can create a scent for me. A real one.”

Silence. Then-

“No.”

John’s voice was sharp, absolute. Not angry, not yet. But firm in a way that brooked no argument. A command all on its own.

Your stomach twisted, and a deep frown etched itself onto your face. “I just thought-”

“No,” Simon repeated, harsher this time, sitting up straight. His eyes burned into yours, dark and furious. “Who the fuck put that idea in your head?”

You faltered, the hesitant hope in your chest slowly fanning out. “It’s not- I wasn’t—”

“You dinnae need fixing, hen.”

“It’s not about fixing,” you argued, pulse quickening. Why weren’t they giving you a chance to explain? “It’s about- I don’t know, being normal? Being able to-”

“You are normal,” Kyle interrupted, his voice thick, pain threaded around each word. “Christ, love, what made you think you weren’t?”

Frustration bubbled up, clogging your thoughts. “You don’t get it,” you snapped, and the words poured out, raw and aching. “None of you do. You’ve never had to live without it. Never had to wonder if you belonged because you don’t have the one thing that ties you to everyone else!”

John’s exhale was sharp, scrubbing a hand over his face and beard. He looked at you- really looked at you, and his face tensed even further. “And you think putting yourself through hell to force a scent into your system is the answer?”

You hesitated, exposed under their scrutiny, laid bare even in spite of the layers you were wearing.

“You’d risk your life for this?”

“People go through hormone therapy all the time-”

“Not like this,” Kyle shook his head, immediately cutting that line of thought off. “This isn’t just hormone theraph. This is gene-altering shit. You read the side effects, love? The risks?”

You had. And now, under their gazes, the weight of it pressed heavy on your chest.

Ghost shifted closer, holding your arm, face tight. “You’re not doing this.”

“You can’t just tell me what I can and can’t do with my own body!”

Price’s jaw tightened, eyes dark with something unreadable, something heavy. When he finally spoke, it was rough, edged with the kind of steel that only came from deep, unwavering conviction.

“You’re right.”

For a second, your breath caught, because you hadn’t expected him to say that. Did you-?

“We can’t tell you what to do with your body,” he continued, low but firm. “But we can stop you from hurting yourself. I will not allow you to go through that damn procedure.”

The words hit like a fist to the gut.

Simon exhaled sharply, tilting his head like he couldn’t believe you had even considered it. “You’d put yourself through that- all that danger, all that risk- just to what? Smell a little different?”

You swallowed, and then, after a heavy moment, nodded.

Kyle leaned in, wrapping himself around you, protective. “You,” he hissed. “You think some synthetic, lab-made scent could ever be worth you getting hurt?”

Your throat felt tight, and you looked away, only for Johnny to let out a rough, disbelieving laugh. “Jesus, lass. You think we’d ever want some artificial shite over you?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came. “I just thought… maybe it would make things easier.” You admitted eventually, voice small and weak, avoiding their eyes. You’d thought… it might even make your family care.

Gaz inhaled sharply, like your words had hurt. “Easier for who?”

The question left you hollow, because you knew the answer.

Not for them.

Never for them.

John sighed, rubbing his temples before reaching out, cupping your cheek with one calloused hand and forcing you to look at him. “Love,” he murmured, and his voice had softened now, rough edges worn down to something gentler, something aching. “We don’t need you to smell like us to know you’re ours. We don’t need a scent to claim you, or to carry your scent.” His thumb brushed against your cheek, touch warm. “You’re already part of this pack.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, curling around your ribs, something painful and good all at once.

For so long, you had felt other. Like something was missing. But here, surrounded by them, their warmth pressing into you, their hands grounding you-

You could almost convince yourself you were whole.

Simon let out a slow breath and reached for you, pulling you into his lap with a kind of desperate, hungry care, his arms curling around you like he could somehow shield you from your own thoughts. Johnny pressed against your side, warm and solid, his grip firm where he held onto your wrist. Kyle leaned in, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, and Price wrapped an arm around all of you, anchoring you to them.

And you let yourself believe them.

Omegaverse masterlist

[skvaderarts]

You guys want to hear something really funny?

I've been slowly showing my almost 80 year old grandma Arcane recently and she absolutely adores Viktor and Jayce, but especially Viktor. She's made me replay the part where Viktor made his speech to Jayce when he stopped him from jumping in season one like 10 times, she loves the "I'm from the undercity" part, she started crying when he ran across that bridge, and she looked physically devastated when she thought he was going to step off that ledge after Sky died and kept quietly repeating "no no honey no" over and over again and looked away from the screen until Jayce showed up and she literally sighed in relief when they started talking. She's actively upset that she can't adopt child Viktor because she said, and I quote "He would have loved Legos" and "has such sad pretty brown eyes". She has started making jokes about the "wait, this isn't my bedroom" line when she goes places in our house (much to my mom's confusion because she hasn't seen the show yet and can clearly tell she's missing out on an inside joke because we keep laughing so hard about it) and every time that Jayce says "partners" she just goes "uh-huh" and laughs a little. It's deeply funny.

Well, tonight I made a joke on a discord call with a friend about Viktor and Jayce and I said "The question isn't IF their fucking it's who's fucking who" and my grandma, in the background, completely unprompted just said "Oh, Viktor is obviously the one taking charge in that situation. Look how he looks at him and touches him. Jayce is a puppy. He's gonna do whatever Viktor wants."

And I don't think I have ever laughed harder at anything she's ever said in my whole goddamn life. I didn't realize she was on team Jayvik THAT HARD LMFAO. My grandma is part of Viktor Nation.

W GRANDMA!

Side note:

She loves the soundtrack. She doesn't understand how music streaming works so I basically had to make a playlist that just plays What Could've Been, The Line, Remember Me, Blood, Sweat, and Tears, and Enemy on loop for her. She likes bass, what can I say lol! She has good taste. I expect nothing less from the woman who wants me to take her to a Hozier concert next year 😭 She also likes What Have They Done To Us and Guns for Hire but said she can't listen to them as often because it makes her too sad lol she's real for that.

... She also loves Isha... She doesn't know yet. She's gonna be so sad.

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.3 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has THREE parts (or more?) summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

To say that things were complicated after that day was an understatement. On the night of the game you and Bucky had to wait for everyone to leave and for Andy to go to bed, before he could sneak you out of the house - at the end of the ride you had to force yourselves off of each other, or the night would become a lot longer than intended.

You had kept in constant contact, yearning to repeat what had happened the day (and night) of the game. If the day had more hours, and if the week had more days, you would've spent even that extra time messaging each other, as it appeared that the twenty-four hours of contact were (seemingly) not enough.

Bucky didn't tell you, obviously, but he was afraid that you'd stop showing interest right after, due to his age - he considered the possibility of being an experiment to you. On the other hand, you had also considered that he had only wanted you as a trophy, the young piece of ass that he'd tell his friends about. However, as time passed and as messages were exchanged, it was clear to the both of you that your worries were nothing but mere fiction made up by your overthinking.

You: lazy day today...

Mr. Barnes: does that mean I'm not getting a pic of one those cute little outfits you like to wear?

You: 1 attachment

You: this is the only outfit I'm wearing today, good enough? 😇

"Fuck..." Bucky muttered, and licked his lips as he looked at the image you had sent him.

The t-shirt was loose, but you were laying on your back so your curves and your nipples were very distinguishable. You had purposefully pulled it up, so your panties peeked from underneath the fabric, teasing him purposefully.

Something within him flared up, all the while you stared at the phone, anxiously awaiting his reply. You saw the text go from sent, to delivered, to seen, to... ignored?

You frowned, he had never taken that long to respond... You thought the both of you were "in a mood", but apparently you were wrong. Minutes went by and there was still no response, and suddenly you wondered if you had done something wrong.

The sound of the doorbell echoed in your place, bringing you back to reality. You were confused, you hadn't ordered anything, and you weren't expecting anyone, it was also quite late, which definitely raised an alarm.

You quietly walked to the door and looked through the peephole. Your eyes widened as you realized that, on the other side of the door, stood none other than James Barnes, he looked angry... no, desperate.

You swung the door open and, before you could say a word, Bucky cupped one of your cheeks and the other hand gripped your waist, pushing you against the wall as he closed the door with his foot. His lips smashed against yours, devouring you in a hungry kiss while his shameless hand travelled to your ass and gripped it harshly, bringing your hips forward. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock pressing against your hip, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped into the kiss.

"How are you here? I texted you like... ten minutes ago. You live twenty minutes away." You asked, looking at him through half lidded eyes as you caressed his cheek.

"My foot was on the floor with that gas pedal."

You leaned your head against the wall and laughed, giving him an opening to kiss and bite your neck.

"You risked getting pulled over just to come here quickly?"

"It was an urgent matter..." The man rolled his hips against you as he spoke, fully letting you feel his boner. "This time..." he paused, biting your neck in the middle of the sentence "there's no one around, so I want to hear you call my name real loud."

A string of cures left your lips as you grabbed his hand and hurriedly dragged him into your bedroom.

Bucky was quick to throw you onto your bed, discarding of his shirt and working on his jeans as he hovered over you. His impatience was clear, he didn't even remove your panties, the man simply pulled them to the side as he slid into you with ease.

Your moans and his grunts were muffled out by the hungry kiss you two shared. Your legs wrapped around his waist, giving Bucky a better angle to thrust deeper into you.

"Y-you feel so good!" You moaned, fueling Bucky to fuck you even harder.

He gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you, so that he could see your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips. The man gripped and squeezed every inch of your body, seemingly hypnotized by the way you looked when being fucked by him.

"I'm not lasting long, sweetheart." Bucky admitted.

"C-cum in me."

Those three words alone nearly had him climaxing, your pretty voice saying those dirty words for him, as your pretty eyes looked at him with that little sparkle in them... It took real commitment not to spill inside of you that very second.

"You're sure, baby?"

You could only nod and, before long, his hips snapped against yours in one final thrust, and his cock twitched inside of you, filling you with his cum. Bucky bent over, and kissed you slowly to drown out his groans.

"That's it, take it all in..." He paused, and kissed your temple. "Good girl..."

Once he was done, Bucky was careful when pulling out. He laid beside you, placing several kisses to your temple.

"You okay?"

You looked at him and nodded. Bucky looked back at you, with adoration plastered on his face. You were a grown adult, but the expression on your face when you stared at him was simply too cute, too much to bear, he wanted to hold onto you forever.

"I will wash up and get us some water, okay?" You said, brushing stray strands of hair away from his face.

Bucky nodded and slapped your ass as you walked away, earning a small shriek in return.

A couple minutes later, his phone vibrated on the pocket of his jeans that were lying somewhere on the floor. Bucky cursed and rummaged through the clothes until he found the device, picking up without looking at the caller ID.

"Dad? Where are you? I just got home and you're nowhere, I tried calling you like, three times. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I left home like forty minutes ago." Bucky clarified with a sigh - sometimes he felt like the child.

"Where are you?"

Just as the man was about to answer and give some shitty excuse, your voice echoed in the house.

"Hey Bucky, do you want a beer instead or-" You stopped in your tracks when you walked into the room and saw Bucky sitting there, with wide eyes and his phone to his ear.

"Dad? Who was that? Oh my God are you on a date?!" The boy asked, with a teasing tone.

"No, Andy, I'm not on a date, see you later, okay?" Bucky responded, making sure to say his name so that you'd understand who it was on the other side.

"Sure dad, see you."

You sat beside him on the bed, giving him the beer you had brought for him.

"Do you think he recognized my voice?" You asked as you bit your lip, suddenly feeling uneasy and nervous.

"No, he would've given me Hell on the phone if he had. But it is kind of late, I should head back." The man said, placing a kiss to your lips, as he got ready to stand up.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He looked at you as you pressed your lips together and averted your gaze - you were clearly itching to ask something, but you were too nervous.

"What?" He asked with a chuckle and a small smile, knowing very well what you were going to question next.

"No need to head back... It's so late, why don't you spend the night?"

Bucky kissed your lips softly, and then kissed you a little deeper, just enough so you could taste the alcohol on his tongue.

"I thought you were gonna make me do the walk of shame."

Bucky strolled into his house with a small smile, as he thought of you, of your body, and of the time you had spent together. It was hard to conceal how happy you made him, and the man didn't try hard to hide it either.

The second the front door closed, a curious Andy came in the room.

"Hey dad, where did you spend the night, hm?" The boy asked teasingly, hinting at the feminine voice he had heard on the phone.

The dad chuckled, and the spark in his eye instantly died down as he remembered that you were his son's crush and he had just spent the night fucking you.

"No one." Bucky responded simply, throwing his phone and keys onto the table.

"Come on dad, I'm not going to be mad! You and mom have been divorced long enough, I knew it was going to happen eventually." The boy insisted, in a whiny voice, as he followed his dad up the stairs.

Little did Andy know, but he definitely would care.

"You're being a pain in the ass, kid." Bucky warned, evading the question once more.

Before Andy could say anything else, the man walked into the bathroom and shut the door, creating a physical barrier between the two of them, hoping that Andy would stop pushing him for answers on such an uncomfortable matter.

As Bucky walked down the stairs after his shower, in search for his phone, he understood why there had been a deafening silence in the house for so long.

His son stood in the middle of the hallway, holding Bucky's phone. The man couldn't see what he had opened, but once Andy lifted his head, with red, tear-stained eyes, it was pretty clear.

"You're fucking Y/N?..." He asked, with a faint, shaky voice, but it wasn't really a question.

Bucky's mouth opened, but closed right after, as he had no idea what to say.

"You're fucking Y/N?!" Andy repeated, now yelling.

The tears streaming down his face were those of sadness, anger and frustration - he couldn't comprehend what was happening, and he was unable to assimilate that it was real life, surely it had to be a dream, a nightmare. His face was contorted in hate and betrayal, and the whole situation made him feel so, so small.

"Andy, I'm sorry..." That was the only thing Bucky could muster the courage to say.

"Are you!? Are you really!? 'Cause you didn't seem sorry at all when you were coming in the house! You knew I fucking liked her, I told you!"

The man opened his mouth to say something, but Andy was quicker.

"I don't wanna hear whatever bullshit excuse you're going to make up to make yourself feel better."

Andy dropped his dad's phone on the floor with force and dashed out of the door.

Bucky stood there, all of what he had done hitting him like a brick wall. Soon after, he heard the tires of Andy's car screeching as he sped down the street.

Fuck.

"You're fucking my dad?!"

It felt as if your world had crumbled around you. You had been startled by someone banging on your door, and, when you opened the door to find Andy in his disheveled state you didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

"H-how..."

"I saw it. On his phone."

"Oh..."

"That's all you have to say!? 'Oh'!?" Andy yelled, his whole body was shaking and his face was red, there was not a single negative emotion he had not been feeling.

It was all you could say, it was all that your dry, aching throat would allow you to utter. Your body was shaking too, but your legs were frozen in the spot.

"How fucking could you?! You have to have known that I fucking liked you! And I invite you to my house and what, you fuck my dad?! What the fuck is wrong with you!" By the end of his speech, Andy was laughing, out of anger and anxiousness, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, at how he had been played.

"I-I didn't! Andy I swear that I didn't know you liked me!" You shrieked back, but it sounded more like a plea than anything.

"You're a fucking liar!" He yelled, pointing his index finger at you.

"Andy I liked you! I liked you too but..." You confessed, holding your palms in front of your chest, as if protecting yourself from him.

You couldn't finish your sentence, but you didn't need to, Andy understood.

"You liked me?..." The boy asked.

His voice had become soft, as if he had realized, just then, that he had had the opportunity he wanted and had lost it, to his dad.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Andy repeated, his voice harsher and louder.

As he stepped forward towards you, you stepped backwards, until your back was against the wall. Andy towered over you, staring down into your eyes with anger and disgust.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry... But after I met Buck- your dad, I... I'm sorry."

You averted your gaze and stumbled on your words, nothing you said made sense and you couldn't bring yourself to make a full sentence.

Suddenly, Andy was pushed away from you by something, and, when you looked in his direction, you saw Bucky behind him, with a stern, rigid expression. The man had pulled his son back by the arm and kept a strong grip on it, preventing Andy from going up to you again.

"Not at her. You don't yell at her like that, and you especially don't treat her like that." The man told his son.

"Oh, aren't you the cutest couple." Andy retorted, in a snarky and ironic voice, while trying to escape his dad's grip.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, I've taught you better than to yell at women. You want to be angry then be angry at me. I fucked up. I knew about it, she didn't, so you want to get up in someone's face, get up in mine." Bucky snarled.

It was weird, he felt intense guilt for betraying his son's trust in such a vulnerable way, but at the same time his stomach churned and his face burned when he saw his son treat you like that.

Andy looked up at his dad and, knowing it was a fight he wasn't going to win, violently shook his dad's hand off of his arm.

"See you at home, dad." He said, and left, slamming your front door as loudly as he could.

Once the silence had settled in, and once your mind processed what had happened, you dropped to your knees. Your chest heaved up and down quickly and tears flowed down your face incessantly, the droplets forming a polka-dot pattern on the floor beneath you.

Bucky said nothing, he simply knelt beside you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest.

"Sh... It's fine..." He told you softly, as one of his hands caressed your face and the other caressed your hair.

You had no idea how long you had stayed on the floor crying against Bucky's chest, but the man had not attempted to get up even once. He stayed there, holding you and whispering sweet words until you had calmed down. He waited for you to shower and made you some tea (after opening and closing nearly every cabinet in your kitchen).

"So... Y/N..." He started, with a sigh, breaking the seemingly never-ending silence, as he sat across from you "I think we should stop whatever we have going on."

Bucky was met with silence and a blank expression.

"What?"

You had to have heard it wrong, there was no way the two of you had risked so much for him to end things like that.

"I don't think this is a good idea Y/N... I-I have already hurt my son, and I can't sacrifice my relationship with my son like this-"

You stood up abruptly, accidentally knocking over the tea he had made you.

"You're a coward!" You snapped, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

Bucky stood up carefully, he was now the one locked in a cage with a wolf, as it seemed.

"Y/N, please don't make this harder than it has to be..." The man stepped towards you and tried to grab your hands, but you moved them away.

"Coward! Asshole! I was just a piece of ass to you, wasn't I?! The second trouble came your way you didn't even hesitate to throw me to the curb!" You yelled, smacking his chest.

Bucky's jaw tightened and he tried to make you stop once more, he tried to calm you down, but to no avail.

"You were not just a piece of ass Y/N, you know it, but I can't do it if I'm hurting-"

You continued on smacking his chest, while crying and cursing at him - you didn't want to listen to whatever he was saying. Bucky was older than you, but he wasn't made of iron and his heart wasn't made of stone, your words and actions had hurt him just as much as his confession had hurt you.

"This is what I get for fucking around with kids." Bucky mumbled angrily under his breath, his jaw still clenched.

You stopped everything and slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. You were enraged, disappointed and hurt, but his eyes... The emotions were far too vast, sorrow, regret, hurt...

You stepped closer and looked deep into his eyes.

"I wasn't a kid when you were fucking me earlier today." You spat.

Bucky had had enough. He finally grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall of the kitchen, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

Neither of you said anything, and both of you refused to break the intense eye contact.

It happened quickly, like a flash of light, but your lips were brought together by the tension and your hands roamed each other's bodies like wild animals. Moans, groans and curses echoed in the air as the the two of you made out against the wall.

The man picked you up with ease and swung you over his shoulder, spanking you ass several times on your way to the bedroom. When he dropped you on your bed, your body had not finished bouncing on the mattress and he had already jumped on top of you.

Your hands fidgeted with the button and the zipper of his jeans, while his fingers gripped the waistband of your shorts and of your panties, pulling them off your body in one harsh pull. The man pulled away for a second, to fully remove his pants, and to strip from his shirt, before removing your shirt with haste and attaching his lips to your neck. He stained your skin with bites that would leave a mark for certain, a small, dirty trail that followed from your neck down to your chest.

As one of his hands played with one of your nipples, his mouth attached to the other, roughly sucking on it, and giving it playful bites. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging on it from time to time.

A long, strained moan was ripped from your throat as his fingers found your pussy, his index and middle finger slowly entering you as his thumb circled your clit. The man's lips pulled away from your tits, so that he could watch your face as his fingers fucked you.

The pace quickened at a steady pace, and he watched your pleasure-struck expression with a shit-eating grin.

"You like it, sweetheart?" He asked, bending over so he could whisper in your ear and bite your earlobe "Do you like it when I make you feel good, hm?"

"Y-yes sir." You moaned out.

Suddenly, Bucky removed his fingers entirely, licking them clean right in front of your face before gripping your neck with his hand, applying just enough pressure.

"Now, what did I say about calling me sir?" The man asked, with a glint in his eye, glad to have something to punish you about.

"S-sorry-"

"Too late, sweetheart."

Bucky flipped you around on the mattress, and pulled your hips up, so you'd be on all fours. He knelt behind you, so that his hips would be lined up with your ass, and slowly inserted himself into you, groaning as he felt your walls tightened around him. It felt heavenly, to be filled by him and to be wrapped around by you.

His hips snapped against yours at a fast, rough pace right from the start. The man's hands made a makeshift ponytail with your hair and he tugged on it from time to time, as if punishing you for talking back to him.

"Who's fucking you this good? Hm?"

"Y-you!" You yelled.

His free hand spanked your ass a couple of times.

"Who are you a whore for, pretty girl?"

"You!"

Spank.

"Say my name!"

"F-fuck! You Bucky! You fuck me so well- shit!" You cursed as you could feel the familiar knot forming on your stomach.

You arms gave in and your back arched, allowing for Bucky to somehow hit a better spot in you. With a cry for his name, and a string of undecipherable curses, you came.

The way his name left your lips made Bucky climax instantly, filling you up with his cum as he praised you.

As you both came down from your high, the man bent over and kissed your shoulder blades, before pulling out.

"You did really good, sweetheart." He whispered, before slowly flipping you around and pulling you towards him.

As you laid on his chest, Bucky played with your hair, sharing a minute of silence while the two of you caught your breaths.

"So... Is this goodbye?" You said, unwilling to meet his eye.

"It can't be..." The man admitted.

After that confession, you slowly looked up at him. His face was unreadable, the emotions were far too many to be able to decipher just one.

"Then why would you say that... earlier."

Bucky pressed his lips together and sighed. He didn't know how you had done it, but you snuck into his heart and tripled its size. Bucky found himself thinking of you day and night, you made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time.

"It seemed like the best option- the only option. I mean fuck, my son likes you, and here I am with you. And it's selfish but..." He paused and sighed once more, unsure if he should speak his mind "This has already been done, I've already hurt my son, unfortunately. All I can do is ask for forgiveness, but if I stopped seeing you... Then three people would end up being hurt."

You squeezed Bucky tightly - you hadn't known him for long, but you could tell that it was hard for him to be selfish, to act in his own interest instead of putting everyone else before him.

"We'll figure this out..."

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole @deafening-roar-of-angry-students

[tessasturns]

DIAL DRUNK

pairing... bsf!matt x fem!reader

summary... when you drunk call matt, he helps you get home safe.

warnings... swearing, fluff, drunk reader, tension, use of y/n, jealous bsf matt, throwing up (brief), slight cat calling, bsfs cuddling

divider credits… @issysh3ll

blessings and riches, tessa

(masterlist) (taglist)

“nah, i wont be drinking tonight.” you said to your friend who had offered you a drink.

that was you two hours ago, yet somehow you ended up completely wasted at some party.

you usually go everywhere with matt, the two of you have been attached at the hip since grade school.

however he’s not big on parties. otherwise, he would’ve been here with you, monitoring how much alcohol was in your system.

but he wasn’t, so you went out with your girls. the group was completely wasted, including you.

so what do you do? call matt, obviously. he picks up after a few rings.

“heyyy matt” you babble.

“hey, y’havin’ fun at your girls night?” he asks, knowing you’re probably drunk.

“mhm yeah… you should totallyyy be here matty, i miss you” you say. you were sitting on some random couch, your best friend next to you.

“kid, are you drunk?” he questions, knowing the outcome.

“noooo…” you say, not fooling anyone.

“alright, where are you? i’ll come pick you up” he tells you.

“uhhh somewhere downtown… you don’t need to pick me up! this really hot guy said he could take me home!” you say, too drunk to know his real intentions.

“absolutely not. drop your location, i’m coming.” he commands.

“ughhh you’re no fun!” you giggle. “fineee see you soon” you hang up the call and somehow manage to give matt your location.

matt walks into the party and sees you laying on the couch with your friend and some guy.

“y/n. we’re leaving.” he tells you, his voice raised to be coherent over the blasting music.

“oh, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend sugar” the guy says, standing up.

“no, he’s not my boyfriend” you babble, trying to repeat the guy’s motion of standing up but almost falling.

matt catches you and grabs your hand. “we’re goin’ back to mine, i’ll give you some extra clothes.”

“but i wanna stay here! i need some more drinks matttt” you whine.

“c’mon, let’s go back to mine pretty girl” the guy states, reaching out for your hand.

matt immediately slaps his hand away. some random guy flirting with his best friend? he hardly knew anything about her! he couldn’t let that slide.

“y’stay the fuck away from her, ‘ight? let’s go.” he takes you out of the party and into his car.

he opens the passenger door for you as you sit down. he leans over you to buckle your seatbelt, and man, do you love him.

you just stare at him as he does this, in complete awe.

“y’got a staring problem?” he chuckles as he ruffles his hand through your hair and closes the car door.

he walks over to the drivers side, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.

“how much have you had to drink?” he asks you. “uhhh like…” you didn’t actually know how much you had. “maybeee like six drinks?”

“six? and you’re this wasted? fuckin’ lightweight” he jokes. “shut up” you mumble, quietly laughing.

his hand lays on the center console, and you reach out and grab it. you trace your finger around his hand as if he were some antique painting.

he notices the small gesture, but just smiles and looks over at the road.

“matt” you say, breaking the silence.

“hm?”

“has anyone told you that you’re reallyyy good looking?” you giggle.

“ah thank you” he knew you were drunk and didn’t question the comment.

“no like you’re sooo pretty” you say. “do you have a girlfriend?”

his eyebrows raise at the bold question.

“you’re drunk, so im not answering that” you both chuckle at his response.

the rest of the car ride is drunk conversations and your random questions. once you get to matt’s place, he quietly walks you in, careful not to wake his brothers.

after a painful walk in the door and to matt’s room, he handed you clothes to change into.

“thanks” you say, taking them gratefully. an awkward tension rises in the room, the both of you unsure what to say. “can you like… uh leave so i can change please?”

“oh- oh right sorry” matt apologizes, leaving the room. you change into his clothes, stumbling into his bathroom.

you feel it- the alcohol, buzzing through your body at an uncomfortable pace. you feel it rush to your head, saliva filling your mouth.

you kneel in front of the toilet, matt rushing in and holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail while you puked.

he helped wipe your face after, lending you an extra toothbrush. he took you back to his room, leaving to get a glass of water and some makeup wipes.

he watches you as you’re sprawled out on the bed, giggling at something you said to yourself.

he smiles at you, his clothes against your figure making him unusually attracted to you. sure, he might’ve liked you more than a friend, but he loved seeing you in his clothes.

“drink some of this” he tells you, as you sit up against his headboard. you take a small sip, placing the glass on his nightstand.

“thank you matt, really. i love you” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying against his chest.

you slump into his grasp, being tired from the party prior to this. he grabs a makeup wipe, carefully swiping your makeup off.

he cautiously lifts your face, making sure you didn’t sleep in your makeup. he knew you were probably asleep, so he laid your head down on the pillow as he turned for the door.

“matt” you call out to the mere silhouette of the boy ahead of you.

“what’s up?” he turns to you.

“can you sleep here with me? pleaseee?” you beg as he hesitates.

“i-i don’t know-” “please matt?” you say again. your friendship with matt was a little flirty, and cuddling wasn’t a first with the two of you.

“fine, but you better not throw up on me” he reluctantly agreed, climbing into bed. “promise i won’t” you smile, placing your head onto his chest.

his hand thoughtfully rubs your back, comforting you. although the two of you were ‘just friends’ he knew he shouldn’t feel this way about a friend. he knew he loved you, he just didn’t know how to tell you.

tessa’s notes… sorry this took like forever i’ve been sick😞 wanted to take a break from smut lowkey, feel free send me some reqs !!

taglist… @emely9274 @baileysturnz @sllutty-sturniolo @chrisspussygang

comment to be added or removed.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Kinktober Day 23

I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but Logan getting pegged?!?!?!

(If you’re not into this, there’s an alternate kinktober day 23 here)

He hadn’t been sure about it at first, mostly just because he was embarrassed. But with time, he came to feel more comfortable with the idea and he agreed to let you.

You’d started out slow, gentle. You were pleasantly surprised to find that Logan whimpers.

He holds onto the bed sheets, gasping, whimpering. You keep going, taking it as a sign that you’re doing something right.

A little timidly, you reach around his body to grasp his cock, jerking him slowly.

He gasps, and you can feel his precum dripping down onto your hand.

“Fuck,” he gasps, cock twitching.

You grin. “Oh, you like that?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Logan replies between broken gasps.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued and very, very turned on. ”What did you just say?”

You can sense his embarrassment, how he’s suddenly shy. He hesitates before quietly saying, “Ma’am.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought you said. Sounds real nice from you. You think you can beg me nicely to give you what you want?”

He whines. “Please, ma’am. Please. I need you so bad, please keep going.”

“Louder, I can’t hear you.”

“Please,” he repeats. “Ma’am please, fuck me just like that.”

You laugh softly. “Ain’t that a good boy?”

---

Taglist

@wolviesgirl @sad0ni0n @hottiehotline @froggieeez

---

Blog masterlist

Kinktober masterlist

[min-gis]

[12:27 am]

''i love you,''

fingers tangled into his hair, lazy arms wrapped around your waist as the words slip past his lips. ever so quietly and equally mumbled, but you feel his lips move against your skin — and you heard him. even though the words come out mumbled and almost in a whisper, you still heard him.

‘’i love you, fuck, i love you,’’ he repeats, even though he doesn’t need to. you heard him the first time. ‘’love you so fucking much,’’ he’s borderline rambling at this point, and he knows he is. it doesn’t matter.

because he loves you, just like you love him.

‘’nothing without you,’’ he breathes, lazily snapping his hips into you. ‘’i’m nothing without you.’’ 

your legs are shaking at this point, both because of the endless orgasms he had pulled out of you and because of the position you found yourself in. ‘’mingi,’’ is all you manage to breathe out, your words coming out just as mumbled his had as you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

once rough, now soft lips press against your skin and you think you might melt into him any second. it’s warm, your bodies sticking together and you can feel the sheer layer of sweat covering the back of his neck — you don’t care. neither does mingi.

it’s no longer fucking, it’s raw. it’s intimate and it’s raw, just like you want it to be. it’s you and mingi. nothing more, nothing less. with you on his lap as he buries himself into you, it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.

‘’no one else for me,’’ he’s not even sure what he’s saying at this point, and neither are you. ‘’there’s no one else for me, just you, it’s always going to be you,’’ he doesn’t say it to reassure you, nor is he saying it to make a statement. ‘’i’m yours,’’

raw. ‘’i’m fucking yours, forever,’’ he’s raw and he’s real. 

pent-up love and feelings he’s never gotten a chance to utter spilling past his lips, and you’re there to catch it all. and you’ll always be, because just like he’s yours — you are his.

[alicentlander]

thankful

summary: Homelander saves you on Flight 37 and expects you to give him a proper “thank you”.

(18+, noncon (blowjob), kidnapping, forced relationship, homelander’s god complex, meanlander, fem reader)

author’s notes: he’s a bit meaner than i usually write him but god plane scene homelander drives me insane!! i did struggle writing this a bit though since blowjobs aren’t really my thing haha

wc: 1.5k

You were still shaking when Homelander landed on the balcony that led to his penthouse and took you inside. You barely even processed your surroundings, staring off blankly.

He was a fucking monster.

When he had first shown up on the plane, you and all the other passengers had assumed you were saved. People clapping and cheering him on, his laughter ringing throughout the plane as he told you all that “you guys are the real heroes”. You were safe. You were going to be fine.

You’re not sure what exactly happened next. He went into the cockpit, presumably to make sure the captain was alright, and then it felt like the plane was dropping from the air. When he came out again, people immediately started asking him what was happening as he made his way towards the back of the plane. Was he leaving them? Despite him saying he wasn’t, that he was just going to go check something, but even a toddler could see through that lie.

You’re not sure what it was about you that made him pause. You weren’t crying or shouting at him, instead just sitting quietly in your seat as you internally panicked while processing everything and tried to keep yourself as calm as you could. But in the blink of an eye you felt your seatbelt being torn off and a rough hand that you had no chance of ever escaping from grip your arm.

“Come on,” Homelander grunted, dragging you along behind him. You stared dumbfoundedly at him, unable to move your feet on your own.

You felt people trying to grab at Homelander, begging him to save them too that he ignored until he finally snapped and threatened to laser them all if they didn’t stay back. When he was satisfied they stopped, he roughly yanked you to follow him again, easily hitting down the exit with his super strength, grabbing you bridal style before flying out.

The cry of a mother begging him to save her daughter too would likely haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Hey,” Homelander snapped his red leather-clad fingers in front of your face several times. You blinked, looking up at him. He smiled sickly-sweet. “There she is.”

He stroked your face with the back of his hand with a tenderness that felt unnatural coming from him. You looked into his eyes, trying to find any hint of guilt or remorse in them.

There wasn’t any.

“I just saved you, you know,” he murmured with a deceptive gentleness, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “you know what good girls are supposed to say to heroes who saved them, right?”

“…t-thank you?” you answer, finding your voice for what felt like the first time in days, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours since you last spoke.

He raised an eyebrow, “are you asking me or telling me?”

You swallowed hard, his eyes briefly flicking to your throat then back to your face.

“T-thank you,” you repeat.

“Hmm… that’s a good start, I guess,” he pulled back, “you could sound more appreciative, you know. I did just save your life.”

“…you left all those people to die,” you whisper.

Homelander pulled away from you with a huff, looking annoyed. He crossed his arms.

“What was I supposed to do? Hmm? Lift the plane? There was nothing to stand, it was in the fucking air if you recall. Ram it? With that speed I’d just punch straight through the hull. Flying each passenger one by one down to the ground?” he clicked his tongue and shook his head like it was a ridiculous idea. Like he didn’t possess the strength and stamina to do that easily.

The day must’ve been weighing heavily on your mind, clouding your judgement on if talking was really a good idea when you said, “a real hero wouldn’t have left a hundred people including a child alone and terrified like that.”

His annoyance quickly faded into anger and the look in his eyes made you feel like the worst danger you would face today wasn’t a plane crash.

He yanked you off his bed - which you were only now beginning to process. He took you to his home - into his fucking bed. What the fuck?

“You know what, sweetheart? I really don't think you’re showing me enough gratitude,” he growled, his grip tightening to the point you knew there would be bruises. “I could’ve left you there to die with the rest of them. But I didn’t. I think it’s time I get the proper appreciation and “thank you” I deserve from you, don’t you think?”

Before you had any chance to argue, he shoved you onto your knees. One of his hands held you down by your shoulder while the other went to his belt. Your eyes widened.

“W-wait…!” you tried to stand, but he just kept you down without the slightest bit of a struggle. “You… You’re right, okay? I-I wasn’t being very appreciative. I’m so sorry. But I’m very… very grateful that you saved me, Homelander.”

He hummed while his eyes seemed to light up when you said his name, “if you’re really grateful, then this shouldn’t be a problem, hmm?”

As soon as his belt was unbuckled and pants down, he moved his hand to tangle into your hair. He all but shoves your face against his hardening dick as you choke back a terrified sob.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone so different from how harsh it had been a moment ago, “come on now, don’t fight. We both know it would be pointless.”

Knowing he could easily crush your skull if you didn’t comply with what he wanted, you reluctantly take his length in your month. Almost immediately he made a noise that sounded like a whimper.

“There you go… that's a good girl…” he praised, thrusting inside your mouth with a surprising amount of restraint for someone of his strength. “Jesus fucking Christ your heart rate is going a mile a fucking minute. Would you calm down? I’m not going to kill you. What a waste that would be.”

Anything you might have said in response was forced back down by him as he slowly moved your head forwards to take more of him. You grip onto his hips to steady yourself, hesitantly sucking his cock which got another groan from him. You choke slightly as he rolls his hips forward, willing this all to be over as quickly as possible.

Luckily (or as lucky as you can be in a situation like this) it didn’t seem like it took much for Homelander to get off. Using just a bit of tongue had him making whimpers and moans you wouldn’t have expected from a man like him.

When you taste him starting to cum, you try pulling back, but he grips your hair tighter, not allowing you to move an inch.

“Nuh-uh,” he tsked, “swallow. All of it.”

What choice did you have but to obey?

When he finished unleashing his seed into your abused mouth and released your hair, you quickly scrambled back, taking in deep breaths greedily.

Homelander rolled his eyes before kneeling down in front of you. He tenderly - almost lovingly - wiped your chin and mouth with his thumb, then held it up in front of your lips expectantly. Bits of his seed that had managed to escape your mouth stained his gloves. With teary eyes, you shakily licked the remnants off him. He hummed in satisfaction.

He whispered absent praises to you when you finished, then moved his hand to stroke your hair, staring at you with something akin to fascination.

It’s quiet for a long few minutes before you spoke again.

“Can I… can I go home now? P-please?”

You just wanted this nightmare of a day to be over.

Homelander stopped his movements.

“About that…” he moved his hand to your chin, tilting it upwards to force you to keep eye contact, “you see, you can’t leave. Liability stuff, you know?”

You stared at him in disbelief. He can’t be serious. What was he going to do? He already said he wouldn’t kill you (though you really wouldn’t put lying past him). Was he just going to keep you here like some sort of pet?

“I-I won’t tell anyone what happened. I promise.”

“Can’t risk it,” he said dismissively before standing and pulling you up with him. “Besides at this point the media’s probably all over the crash. Your friends and family already think you’re dead.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“Don’t worry, this will be so much better for you anyways!” he said with a smile, “I’ll take care of you. Anything you want is yours. Any type of food, clothes… anything besides leaving.” He laughed at the last part like he thought it was funny before his face quickly dropped and he sighed at your lack of a reaction. “Not very enthusiastic, are we?” He sounded disappointed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he almost sounded hurt. “That’s alright. We’ll work on that. You’ll learn to be grateful for a God taking care of you. You’ll learn to love it here. To love me.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, sealing your fate.

[spidernuggets]

Casually Proposing To Jason Todd:

Warning: Suggestive at the end

You were lying with Jason in bed while he was reading Pride and Prejudice to you. You were laying on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

You couldn't help but fidget with the small, black, velvet box in the pocket of your his hoodie.

You've had the ring for weeks now. You were sure you wanted to marry him, to spend the rest of your life with him. But you didn't know when would be the right time.

You also knew Jason didn't like labels. So, did he even want to marry you? Did he just like what you two have now?

You were satisfied with what you have now. But you couldn't help but want that little band around your finger as a little reminder that the two of you will be together forever.

"You still with me, mama?" his voice interrupting you from your thoughts. You look up to him, admiring his face and placing a soft kiss against one of the moles on his neck.

"Mhm, keep reading," you say, laying your head on his shoulder.

Jason bookmarks the novel, placing it on the nightstand beside him, shuffling to face you. He kisses your forehead, brushing stray hairs away from your face.

"You've been zoning out a couple of times these past couple of weeks, doll. What's up? Y'know you can talk to me," he softly says, showing hints of worry in his voice.

Your arm wraps around his torso, cuddling closer to him. Fuck it. No better time like the present.

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me?" You ask, avoiding eye contact with him while fiddling the hem of his shirt.

Jason chuckles, "Sorry, what?"

"I said what would you say if I asked you to marry me," you repeat, more quietly this time, worried that this might've been a mistake.

He playfully laughs. "I dunno babe. Maybe you'd have to ask me for real to find out," he jokes.

You take a breath and pull out the box from your pocket, opening it up to reveal the ring.

You feel Jason's breath stop for a split second, and his heart beat speeding up. He doesn't say anything, so you speak up before he gets a chance to respond.

"Jay... I know you don't like labels, but... the only person I can imagine spending the rest of my life with is you. You go on and on about how I deserve better, or I deserve to be with someone better. But you're better. You're perfect. And I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanna wake up every day with you, and I wanna go to sleep every night with you. I just want you. And I know we don't have to get married to make all of that happen... I dunno it's probably stupid, but... Will you marry me?"

You look up to him with hopeful eyes, hoping he'd say yes. But he doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring at you.

"You- you don't have to say yes, I just wante-mmph!"

You were quickly interrupted with Jason's lips, colliding against your own, turning you over so he's hoverung above you. You smiled and kissed him back. When you broke the kiss, he peppered quick, small kisses around your face, making you giggle as you slid the ring on his finger.

He manoeuvred his lips to your neck. "Was this what my baby was worrying about all week? Worried that I'd say no?" His voice drops an octave, starting to nibble on your skin.

"I- I thought you didn't like labels," you say, trying to hold back your moans.

Jason couldn't help but lightly laugh at your silly thoughts.

"Fuck, mama. You could've asked me to marry you in the middle of a fight, and I still would've said yes to my pretty girl," he says, rolling his hips down against yours.

"Fuck- Jason!" You whimpered, hands gripping his curled, fluffy hair.

"Shh, relax doll. Lemme show you how much I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

[mistydeyes]

hollow apologies and avoiding glances

a continuation of this request

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summary: Months after your release from the 141, you try to acclimate to life back on base. Despite time, therapy, and medication, you still are haunted by ghosts that cloud your everyday life.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

a/n: HOLY SHIT I didn't think this would take off like it did! thank you all so much for all the love and requests to have a followup to my initial request <3

 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque

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You felt the cold tile imprint on your face as Ghost loomed over you. The small shallow cuts on your cheek pooled in a sea of crimson iron on the linoleum flooring. "Please," you choked out for the thousandth time, "I promise you it's not me." Your quiet pleas for respite from the torture were met by the harsh tug at your hair. "And I promise you this won't end until you tell us what you want," he spat in your face. As he violently let you fall back to the ground, you braced yourself for another round of terror.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?" the therapist's voice echoed in your ears. You blinked as you stared back at her, balancing your trembling hands on the table. "I'm sorry, what was the question?" you asked as you gazed shamefully at the light silver cuts that decorated your forearms. "Have you done anything nice for yourself recently?" she repeated, "go on any walks, read a new book, try a new recipe?" You tried to think of the positives during the last year but none came to mind. "I started gardening," you lied through your teeth and she nodded in respect to your answer. "That's good," she encouraged and you just wanted this to be over. "Is that all for today, Captain?" you quietly asked, "I just want to go back to my quarters." She had a tightlipped smile as she gestured that your time was done. As you got up and gripped the door handle, she had one last comment. "You can't bury yourself in work, you know," she said quietly as you looked at her, "it's not healthy." You shook your head as you entered back into the hallway. "God how fucking pathetic," you whispered, trying to hold back another barrage of tears. The least you could do was go back to your quarters and drown in the minimal comfort of sleep.

As your boots clattered on the linoleum tile, you avoided the prying eyes of your colleagues. Despite your temporary disability leave and passing numerous psych examinations, everyone knew what happened to you. Whispers reached even the highest ranks and you left the sympathy flowers out to die in the trash. You ignored the phone calls and voicemails from your previous team, even denying Laswell visits to your hospital room. When you returned, no one ever uttered a word but their gazes pierced into you whenever you walked out of your room. It was humiliating but was nothing compared to the flashes of terror when you saw the faces of your old team around the base. You had taken a desk position, something far from your skills on the field, but it was all that you could handle for the moment. However, you still brushed paths with them once in a while, walking briskly when you saw their faces emerge from a crowd. Once, Gaz tried to come up to you to offer an apology after you were issued an official one from the military. However, a strong slap to the face and a fast-paced sprint in the opposite direction was all that was needed to tell them to stay away.

"This can end if you tell us where he is," Ghost whispered in your ear. You shook your head violently and bit your lip as your face was met with a hard slap. The pain shot through your body as he followed up with a punch directly to the gut. Your ears rang with static as he gripped your chin in his bloodied, gloved hand. "That's not the answer I want, Eclipse," he said through gritted teeth, holding your face painfully. As your eyes pricked with tears in agony, he released his grip. "You're fucking pathetic," he spat, "a double agent caught so easily." You stopped resisting with words from that moment on. Despite all attempts to reason, the chance of your survival grew ever slimmer and it all depended on the actions of one man.

Your solemn walk back to your room was interrupted by the hard wall of a figure. "I'm sorry," you said looking up but your heart dropped when you saw who you ran into. It wasn't the mask that made you realize who it was but the cold, unforgiving eyes of one, Simon Riley. Out of all the visits and calls you received, you never heard a word from him. He haunted you and in some cynical way, he was a ghost both in namesake and person. As you backed away in sheer terror, you kept repeating a string of apologies and incoherent tearful babbles. He took a step towards you as you stood in absolute fear. "Please, please don't come near me," you whispered, clutching the wall as your legs began to tremble with adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I just want to talk, Y/N," he said with an unsettling amount go kindness in his tone, "I-I didn't realize you were back from leave." With the late word, you could feel something inside you break. It wasn't seeing the rest of the 141 that sent you over the edge, it was the fact that he was staring at you with the same bitter gaze that sent your blood into a fever pitch. Your feelings of terror morphed into ones of anger and absolute fury.

"You didn't realize?" you shouted, not caring about how your voice echoed through the halls, "like you even fucking cared in the first place." His eyes darted around your figure and your tears grew like molten lava on your face. "No amount of apologies or therapy or goddamn medication will ever make me forget about what you put me through," you continued, throwing a frustrated punch directly to his chest, "you fucking broke me, Simon." With that final statement, you could feel all semblance of anger and fear dissolve into emptiness. You had dreamed of an altercation, one where you could finally release all of the frustration and nightmares you had endured. But now with Simon standing in front of you, you felt as minuscule as ever. You never left that empty abyss of a room and no matter how hard you tried, he would still be that horrifying presence looming over you. As he stood there, words never coming to the surface, you pushed past him without a second look. "Try to talk to me again and I'll have a restraining order for you," you spat angrily, "and you can tell the rest of the 141 my stance."

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eight

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.3K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

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She laid back on the bed, far too calm for what Lando had just blurted out. "Run that one buy me again?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

It was a joke, it had to be a joke. She knew the rumours that surrounded this place, the stupid stories about the werewolves and the vampires roaming the town.

And Oscar and Lando were playing into it. They had to be.

Lando's head dropped and he let out a sigh. "I'm being serious," he said. It was far too late to backpedal now. "Oscar and I, we aren't human," he repeated. This time his voice was sure.

And, this time, she was less sure he was joking. "Oh, fuck," she said, sitting up straighter. But still, it couldn't be real, could it? They were human. Because, well, what else could they be?

Lando looked towards Oscar. "Show her," he said and nudged him.

In truth, Oscar didn't know how she hadn't noticed by now. He hadn't been trying to hide his fangs and, with how often he had his lips on her, he didn't know how she couldn't have known.

But he hooked his finger around his top lip and pulled it up, exposing his fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said, still lifting his lip. "And this dickhead is a werewolf."

"Fuck," she said through a hiss, shuffling back on her bed, away from them.

Shit, this was exactly what Oscar was afraid of. "Wait!" He strode forward, but she only backed up further. "Fuck, Lando, this was why I didn't want to tell her!" He snapped at the werewolf.

Lando's eyes flashed as he looked at Oscar. "You shouting isn't going to help, is it, Osc?" His words came out slow, almost dangerous.

Neither of them were looking at her as she got as far away as she could from them. Her heart was beating erratically and she held her chest. No matter how deeply she breathed, not enough air was getting into her lungs.

Shit, she was going to pass out.

Lando noticed first. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled and climbed over the bed to get to her. "Baby, baby, calm down," he said and held her upright. His hands were on her neck, touch gentle as he felt her elevated pulse. "We're not gonna hurt you, I swear."

Still, her breaths were coming out too quickly. But she wasn't pushing him away. Looking past him, over his shoulder, she locked eyes with Oscar.

Oscar, the vampire. Oscar, who hadn't hurt her. Yet.

She breathed deep and looked at Lando. "Why did you tell me this?" She asked quietly.

Lando's hands fell from her neck, into her lap. "I... thought it was better that you know," Lando answered just as quietly as she had asked the question. "I..." He looked back towards Oscar. "We, Oscar and I, we both like you." He said it so quietly, curls falling over his face as he looked down at her hands.

There was a moment where she said nothing, brows furrowed as she stared at them. "Wait, let me get this straight," she said and shook her head, almost like she was clearing her thoughts. "So, you and Oscar both like me. And to go about that, you guys decided to tell me that you're vampires."

"Werewolf," Lando quietly interrupted.

She glared.

But her attention quickly moved behind him, to Oscar. He hadn't moved away from the desk, hadn't met her eyes again. He stared down at his shoes, gripping the desk chair almost hard enough to break it.

"Osc?" She called and Lando moved to one side. "Why haven't you eaten me yet?"

His chest shook slightly as he laughed. The laugh only last a second, but his lips were turning up. "I don't eat people," he said and looked over to her. "But I don't drink from people that don't want it," he answered honestly.

Her expression softened. "How... what do you eat?"

Oscar breathed in as he thought about it. "Animals, mostly. But there is a select, small group of people that want us to drink from them."

And, again, she was frowning at him. "Really? People want you to drink from them?"

He nodded his head. "Apparently it feels good," he said rather nonchalantly.

With wide eyes and raised eyebrows, she turned towards Lando. "Huh," she said, but her tone wasn't questioning. "That's interesting."

Interesting. That wasn't the word either boy had expected her to use. Lando looked back at Oscar as Oscar looked between the two of them. And then, he turned back to her. "So, are you gonna kick us out?"

She shrugged her shoulders, which wasn't the most comforting thing in the world. Both boys were still as they waited for something, anything from her. Some indication that she was going to get her dad's gun.

She sucked in a breath. "I wanna know more," she said. "I get that you both like me, and I can't say if I like the both of you too, I'll be completely honest. But I'm not saying no, not yet."

Oscar let his head fall back. "Holy shit," he said quietly, his accent coming through particularly strong. "Those were the most anxiety inducing moment's of my life."

Laughing, Lando sat back, his back against the bed as he sat opposite her, legs stretched as far as they could go. "I genuinely can't believe you're giving us a chance," he said and breathed out a laugh. And then he was looking up at Oscar and beckoning him closer.

Oscar pushed himself away from the desk. He strode around the bed and sat beside Lando, leaning against the bed with his legs between them. "I genuinely can't believe you're not kicking us out," he said, trying to mimic Lando's voice.

She knocked the both of them with her feet. But then she was looking up at them with a seriously expression. "What happens on a full moon?" She asked Lando.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Heightened emotions, less control over when I change and... horniness."

The last part was said so quietly, she and Oscar almost missed it. But their giggles signified that they had.

"Can I see you change?" She asked through her giggles.

Lando was suddenly standing. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, over his head, dropping it on the bed. The two of them were unashamed in their staring, enough to have a blush rising to Lando's cheeks.

"Look away, both of you," he insisted as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"But we were just getting to the best part," said Oscar with a grin as she pouted.

But Lando stopped and held his hands on his hips, not going any further until the both of them looked away. Oscar stared at her and she had her hand covering her eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Lando pushed down his shorts and transformed. He'd long since passed the stage when his bones hurt as he transformed. No, the sensation was somewhat nice as everything snapped into place and his body grew fur.

When he was fully transformed he jumped on the bed. She lowered her hand from in front of her eyes and Oscar turned around.

Now, Oscar didn't gasp like she did. No, he'd seen Lando transformed before, had been attacked by him, too. But she was in awe as she stared at him. Pushing up from the floor, she slowly walked towards him and stretched out her hand. "Can I?" She asked.

Lando pushed his head into her hand.

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[storiesabouteli]

BitterSweet // Elijah Hewson X Reader.

requests: (1) pre-relationship!eli with an incrediblyyy oblivious and socially awkward girl that kinda avoided him bc he’s very charismatic and lowkey a fuckboy so she think he’s fucking with her 😭😭 and eli is tryna pursue her and making it obvious that he takes her really seriously + (2) i was just wondering if you could write an imagine where eli helps the reader with her anxiety / through an anxiety attack or something similar?

words: 3,6K

You had enjoyed the band; they were instrumentally solid, and their lyrics were captivating. Live, they were even better. Eli, drenched to the point that his hair was soaked, let out soft groans in between sung syllables. This was just the soundcheck, and though only a few fans were around, he was performing like it was the real thing.

“Think we can tweak it a bit more?” His voice pulled you back, a warning that you might be getting in over your head. Eli chuckled, eyes trailing over you from top to bottom with a slight smirk. You couldn’t tell if it was meant to intimidate, mock, or if he just found you pathetic.

“Of course,” you replied quietly, certain no one else heard. The walk over felt longer in your mind as the guys watched, and you reached for the guitar in his hands. His swift movement to pull the strap off revealed hints of muscle, all the pale skin and the brief brush of his arm, warm and damp with sweat, replayed in your mind.

“Will you be around?” His voice was deeper, smoother than when he sang, with a lazy edge that was almost too pleasant to listen to. You were getting paid for this entire experience. “It’s my job.” He raised his brows, that same confident grin tugging at his lips. You avoided direct eye contact, though you glanced at him from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t mean to sound so blunt. You were only here to set up the studio for their album recording—a short period, and soon enough, you wouldn’t see them again.

You liked them well enough, but Eli had that vibe of the guy who would’ve bullied you in high school. You thought you were past that. “I’ll be around,” you said more clearly, finally looking him in the eyes. He nodded, making a mental note of your face up close and the matching brand of your boots and his. Your delicate hand passed the guitar back to him, and he couldn’t resist; it was too easy.

“Thanks, pet. I’ll be needing you again soon.” Your gaze dropped quickly as you backed away. Josh overheard and laughed, while Eli turned a bit pink—no regrets, though. You knew guys like him. You’d worked with bands before, and you understood better than to let whatever that was get to you.

…

You only spoke when asked, keeping things strictly professional. Eli was openly watching you, blatantly, if honest. The producers asked you questions now and then, and you always responded, they’d nod and follow your advice right after. Eli already thought you were smart, which only made him more intrigued. You were focused, a little shy, content within your own bubble; he admired that. It was obvious you were fine like that, and he was bothering you, but he didn’t know any other way to approach you.

“Hey, uh…” he started, sitting across from you at lunch. Once again, you were alone, not in a bad way, just enjoying your break. “What’re you listening to?” You lifted one side of your headphones to hear him. He cleared his throat, needing to repeat the question before you could answer.

“It’s not the first time you ignore me like that, and I like it.” You had to bite your lip but still laughed, as if he were too much to believe.

“The Strokes,” you showed him your phone, sipping your Coke. You fidgeted with the strap of your white tank top, which happened to be just like the one he often wore—and was wearing now. Along with the boots, it was oddly charming.

“I love The Strokes, real teenage throwback. What are your favorites?” He smiled wide, a grin he hadn’t seen all day, feeling confident this was going well.

“See? We have so much in common,” he teased, even though, so far, it was just the band and clothes.

“I’m not a big fan,” you shrugged, “I think his voice is lazy and dragged out, not really my style, though the instrumental’s good.” His heart sank a little. You spoke so casually, completely unaware of the impact. Eli hadn’t found flirting so difficult before.

“All right,” he glanced around, watching you look at your empty plate instead of his eyes. “Did you enjoy yesterday? What did you think of the show?”

You briefly thought of the awkward moment adjusting his guitar with everyone watching and how he’d been appearing more and more on your social media—not him directly, but clips of him with fans. You’d even gained some random followers from being spotted with the band. Your feed was flooded with videos of him leaning close to a girl at the edge of the stage, his damp curls brushing her face. She’d clung to him, and he clearly loved the attention, even stopping post-show to chat and connect with everyone. It was an energy you didn’t have. You’d once wanted to be more like him but were now comfortable being reserved. He was just naturally good at it.

Then there was one photo—a girl holding his face in an intimate kiss—that made you pause. A fan captioned that Eli would make a perfect boyfriend, even if they weren’t together anymore. She was gorgeous, and he looked like he belonged with her. Him talking to you felt off, like he was doing it out of pity; you weren’t even on the same page.

“I really enjoyed it. You guys are very good.” You were honest, forcing a smile and pushing away your thoughts to show you meant it.

Eli wasn’t convinced of that. “Good to know. We’re close enough now to hang out and maybe share a cigarette or two.” You looked up at him, his hazel eyes gleaming, his freckles glowing with a hint of blush. He had that high-school-crush look, but it still didn’t make sense.

“Can’t you talk like a normal person?” In your mind, the question hadn’t sounded so hard.

“I don’t know; this way I get to keep talking to you, don’t I?” He raised his brows as looked away, noticing the rest of the band watching from another table. He could be over there, so why wasn’t he?

He dropped a crumpled napkin on the table and waited, saying he’d be persistent later when you just nodded, unsure what to expect. You were about to speak, and it was warming to see him actually paying attention, his caramel eyes fixed on you, his whole body focused—until he nudged the table, spilling half of the Coke onto your white top.

“Sorry,” his accent thickened, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. People glanced over, and Eli began wiping the spot, his hand brushing over the stain.

“It’s not helping,” you said, touching his shoulder. “Eli, it’s fine; you’re just making it worse.” Your firm tone made him stop, realizing you were right.

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a little embarrassed, and he quickly noticed. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his black button-down and handed it over for you to wear. It wasn’t like you could refuse; you still had the whole afternoon before you could head home and change.

“Sorry, like, the flirting’s intentional, yeah, but I wouldn’t ever mean to harm you.”

You fiddled with his shirt, playing with the buttons. It smelled nice. He was now in a tank top like yours, and you remembered mentioning how you liked his arms before to the voices inside your head.

You cleared the table, picking up his napkin too, and he watched as you tossed his number into the trash on your way out.

“These things happen, I guess,” he chuckled, getting the closest he’d come to a genuine smile from you. The lighthearted way you suggested he’d done it on purpose; if he’d known that smile would come out, he certainly would have.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give it back,” you reassured him, grateful he wasn’t phased by the incident, though disappointed the conversation had ended, even if it wasn’t going great. At least it was something, and he got to appreciate how well his shirt suited you the rest of the day.

“It’s yours now, ma’am.”

…

At home, you made yourself dinner, still wearing his shirt. Sure, you told yourself it was just because of the chill, but deep down, you knew you wanted his scent—cologne mixed with a hint of cigarettes—lingering around you. Despite your reluctance, you eventually washed and dried it to return it properly. As you lay down in bed, a wave of mental relief washed over you, savoring the solitude after spending nearly the whole day with them fine-tuning songs. You picked up your phone, intending to scroll until you drifted off, when an Instagram notification popped up. Opening it, you saw he’d followed you and even sent a message. You set your phone aside for a moment, feeling like he was physically there; somehow, it made no difference.

When you accepted the request and opened the DM, the first thing you saw was a picture: a can of Diet Coke spilling onto his jeans, captioned with, “Thinking of you.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself. Eli probably thought it was funny—maybe it was, in a way. “You there? Am I getting ignored online too?” It made you realize you'd left the chat open, staring blankly. “Sorry, was busy,” you replied, though you instantly regretted it, realizing you could've been friendlier.

The typing dots popped up again, followed by, “With something more important than me?” You had to admit, his shameless confidence was quite charming. “Washing your shirt to return it. Hopefully, you won’t try that again xx,” you replied, heart-reacting to the Coke photo he’d sent. You didn’t want him to think you were actually ignoring him. After a pause, just as you were about to drift off, his final message came through. It was a voice note, low tone, a little sleepy, smooth.

“Uh, don’t see the problem, you know? Got to talk to you, and now you’ll return my shirt with your scent on it. You’re making this hard for me.” You could practically hear him smiling through the words, and once again, you found yourself grinning into your blankets.

…

You know those days that just aren't good? Your eyes ached, and there was a sharp pain in your head. Before entering the studio, some girls in Inhaler shirts were gathered near the entrance. They greeted you, and you nodded back, answering a few quick questions about them. You were polite, so one of them handed you her number, asking if you could give it to Eli. You took the slip of paper—it seemed routine, as if he received these often. She was beautiful. Your mind wandered to the number of girls chasing after him, not just here, but everywhere.

"Bobby’s sick; they’re not coming in today." One of the producers announced, and you felt a bit guilty for being relieved. Today, you didn't want to see anyone. It was hard to explain—if you knew how to avoid it, you would. Your chest felt like it was being crushed, heart racing, the familiar grip of anxiety that you just couldn’t make stop. As you thought about leaving, it hit you that you'd have to pass by those girls outside and take the bus home alone. You also worried about the delay in recordings, though you didn’t think Bobby should be there if he was unwell.

"Uh, you here by yourself? We won’t be recording today; thought someone might’ve told you. I just needed to grab my stuff." Eli shook his lighter, a rescuer in disguise. You held a cigarette between your fingers, hoping it would distract you, but you were restless, tapping your boot on the floor and fumbling in your pocket for your own lighter to no avail. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong—at least he didn’t show it. His curls were perfectly in place, his jacket pulled over his arms, and that familiar, inviting smile. He’d clearly spent some time talking outside.

You opened your mouth, numb lips struggling to hide how off you felt, but no words came. He stepped close, his rings catching the light, and you focused on how nice his hand looked—a random, sudden thought that made you frown slightly. "Let me help," he whispered, his minty breath brushing your face. With the cigarette at your lips, you kept patting your jeans for the lighter. This was the closest you’d ever been to Eli; his fringe touched your forehead, and you realized how easily you could rest your head on his shoulder if you just leaned in. He sparked the lighter, holding it to your cigarette, his scent dizzying. His hand brushed your shoulder, and you wanted more. His calm eyes took in your vacant look as his fingers traced down your arm. For the first time, you couldn’t look at anything but his steady gaze. His freckles seemed to judge you silently, wondering why you had no control over yourself.

Seeing you weren’t taking a drag, he pulled the cigarette from your lips and placed it in his. "You can hear me, right?" His thumb brushed your palm, and you focused on your breathing as your eyes began to water. Eli was patient, his calm presence grounding you as you tried to steady yourself. Holding your hand, he gently pressed it to his chest so you could feel his heartbeat—thankfully steady. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Feel that, love?" Closing your eyes, still feeling overwhelmed, you listened to his words. "Just breathe with me. You’re not alone; it’s all gonna be fine." His voice was a balm, and slowly, it started to sink in.

"You’re doing great; you wouldn’t even need me here," he said softly, matching your small laugh with his own. Your knees gave way slightly, and he held you by the waist, you were closer than ever before. "We can just sit here until you’re alright, yeah?" You nodded, sinking to the floor beside him, surrounded by a few guitars. You toyed with the rings on his fingers, finding it a welcome distraction, and he didn’t mind. Exhausted, as you always seemed to feel, Eli noticed your tired, red eyes and pulled you against him. It was only his shoulder, but you let yourself lean in. He took a drag from the cigarette, ready to toss it aside to focus on you, but you took it from him, repeating his movements.

"So, that’s our first kiss," he murmured, his usual flirty tone and smug grin returning. He seemed proud. "What?" you muttered, throat sore, but he didn’t need to hear it; he saw it on your lips. His free hand slid along your back, keeping you close, wanting to distract you from your own mind. He was good at it.

"The cigarette’s a swap of saliva, right? That counts." You wrinkled your nose, thinking how typical it was for him to come up with something like that. You put out the cigarette, tossing the butt away. Nicotine didn’t help much, but it was something—it was human nature, and you understood that. He noticed your shy smile, his effect on you having its way. "Not funny, Eli. I don’t get why you do this," you murmured, exhaustion pulling your eyes closed, though you stayed nestled against his soft shoulder. He swallowed, realizing you weren’t playing a game; you were just oblivious.

"One of the fans outside even gave me her number to give to you." Your tone was gentle, though the crumpled paper in your hand suggested you had some opinion on it. "You think I’m just messing around with you?" He took your face in his hand, studying your troubled eyes. "Why would I do that? I wouldn’t flirt with you if I didn’t mean it. I don’t know how to be more obvious."

The firmness in his voice cut through like the edge of a blade. Now it was his turn to look at you like a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite figure out. You stared at him like he’d just spoken in another language, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Aren’t you? I mean… isn’t this just, like, a thing you do? Flirt with people for fun?” Oddly enough he was still comfortable, Eli could be anything but scary.

He looked at you, serious, shaking his head slightly, as if letting you slip through his fingers was out of the question.

Eli raised an eyebrow, his grin slipping. “Is that what you think of me?”

You fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re… you know…” Your voice dropped as if admitting the truth was embarrassing. “You’re you.”

He leaned closer, his voice low but insistent. “And what if ‘me’ wants you? What if I’m serious ‘bout this?”

Your eyes shot up to his, wide and startled, but you quickly looked away. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am,” Eli said, his gaze more serious now, one of those looks you couldn’t avoid. “I don’t just flirt with everyone. I don’t chase people. But I’m chasing you. What’s it gonna take for you to get that?”

His chest had been racing, but it started to calm as he took in your parted lips and the tears lingering in your eyes. He knew he was overwhelming you at a tough moment, and he hated that. His fingertips traced the bridge of your nose, lightly outlining your soft lines, enjoying how close you allowed him to be. “Are you okay, little one?” he asked softly, the edge of his jacket brushing your cheek to wipe away the last of your tears.

“Yeah,” you replied, the incident finally slipping away as you looked back at him, unable to focus on anything else. His careful eyes, the freckles scattered like constellations, each carrying its own name that you gave them—it was hard to think of anything but them. “God, I must’ve been such an idiot, right?”

He chuckled, his laugh warm and steady against you. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gentle but grounding, repeating it a few times as if to anchor you. You rested your head against his chest, nestling your face there, feeling the safety of his warmth. Your arms wrapped around his waist, a quiet comfort settling in.

“You weren’t an idiot. If anything, I’ve been bugging you since I got here.” You murmured a soft agreement, and he laughed again.

“But it worked, didn’t it? What do you say?”

You hid yourself a bit more in his embrace, feeling good, as he held you close, content to be your shield.

…

There was a comfortable weight draped over you, not unpleasant in the slightest. Your legs were tangled up with his, and you could feel his breath against your shoulder, soon followed by a series of light kisses and playful bites. You laughed into him, accepting your fate, and hugged him tighter. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice sounding even better with that just-woke-up rasp. You glanced around, fully taking in the scene. His hand rested on your waist, his touch warm, and he was amazing at reading you, always respecting your pace.

“No one’s here yet. I’m not about to get you in trouble.” You smiled back at him, genuinely relieved.

“So you’re gonna hide us from them, huh?” he teased. “Hurts my feelings a little, y’know?” You looked down at your feet, ready to counter him, but before you could, his face was close again. He pressed a soft, wet kiss to your cheek. His messy curls tickled you, and you ended up laughing.

“When I make you nervous like this…” he traced his thumb along your hands, which were colder than your hot cheeks. “Is it a bad thing? Does it bother you?”

You met his gaze, smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. “I like how you talk to me, Eli. I just… don’t know how to deal with it right away.”

He nodded, his smile warm. “Good. I like that—it’s cute how you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

So effortlessly, he pulled the same reaction from you as before. The two of you kept talking, stealing these quiet moments before anyone arrived. Eli picked up on your hesitance with him, knowing you thought he was too charismatic for someone like you. But he also made it clear he didn’t mind your quieter world; he’d be just as happy living in it if you’d have him there.

Later that day, you ended up with his jacket draped over your shoulders and his hand resting gently on your back. You got to listen Bobby complimented you, saying you were better at adjusting his bass than any of the past techs they’d worked with. The way he talked about you was similar to how Eli did, which made you suspect Eli had already mentioned you to them before, even without knowing you well yet. None of them questioned your sudden closeness with Eli, not even when he introduced you like they didn’t all already know who you were. They were welcoming, you felt at ease.

 Eli’s hand slipped from your waist slowly, your smile softening as he looked at you. He was enjoying the way things were going. “I’m gonna grab us some food,” he said, tilting your chin up and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And a Diet Coke too.”

 You grinned, your smile so wide it showed all your teeth. “Want me to come with you?” Before either of you could say more, Ryan appeared with a question about drum kits, and Eli could see in your eyes that you wanted to answer.

 “I’ll be right back, I promise, little one,” he chuckled, leaving you with them. Minutes later, Ryan mentioned, “It’s great that Eli managed to finally talk to you. We’ve been hoping to catch you since that project you worked on with Miles.”

 The statement was so casual that you raised your eyebrows, realizing it had been over two years since that project—quite some time if you thought about it. “You guys were looking for me?”

 Ryan nodded, as if it were obvious. “Actually, Elijah suggested it. He’s into the albums you worked on. It took a while—you’re not exactly easy to track down.” You laughed, looking at them, struck by how Eli had admired your work for much longer than you’d ever realized. You’d thought he was out of reach, yet he’d appreciated your work from the start.

 “Don’t break our boy’s heart, alright? We’d have to side with you then, but we’d rather not,” Josh added with a smirk, and you felt your face heat up just as Eli returned, grinning, with a Diet Coke and fries in hand.

 You figured maybe you could handle this, after all.

[grimesgirll]

“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”

your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.

“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.

you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.

“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”

“makes two of us.”

something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”

you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.

playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.

“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”

you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”

your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”

you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.

but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?

and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.

that isn’t everything though.

he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”

“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”

he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”

“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”

“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”

“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.

“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”

“fucker.”

“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.

“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.

the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.

“what’s going on?”

“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.

rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”

“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”

rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”

“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”

you owe the man your life a million times over.

rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.

the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.

the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.

fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.

“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”

“shane.” the man above you warns.

“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”

a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.

“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”

shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”

your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.

rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.

“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.

beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.

“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”

“really?”

you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”

shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.

“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”

you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.

rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.

it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.

you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.

a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.

thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.

“down and up. you know how to do it.”

shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.

“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.

“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.

ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.

the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.

eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.

shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”

you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.

“needy slut,” shane comments.

you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.

rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.

a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.

rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.

“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.

“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.

“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”

shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.

your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.

rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.

“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”

his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.

shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.

“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.

whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;

“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”

[chrollogy]

SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #03

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

masterlist

synopsis: After reading the new confession during his lecture, it takes all of Iwaizumi’s sanity not to get up, and leave in the middle of class, especially after coming to a conclusion that these confessions are indeed written by you.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff :3, friends to lovers, iwa is an impatient man !!, they’re kinda awkward, kissing omg, not beta read.

word count: 2.7k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. weee last chapter ! thank u sm for showing love n interest to this hehe this was totally an unplanned series so apologies if the pacing is meh :3

Oikawa was just teasing, Iwaizumi knew it but why did the brunette’s words fuck him up so bad? Did he finally succumb to his delusions for his friend’s words to make him overthink this bad? If anything, Iwaizumi should be completely rational about the whole situation since one wrong move would cost the price of your friendship.

A couple of days had passed since the former had shown him the confession, he’s been trying to act very indifferent over it despite those words from Oikawa but nothing helps when most—if not all—students were talking about dimples which were mentioned on the post.

Now that the anonymous submitter had specified their best friend’s features, students were on the prowl for anyone with dimples—which was exactly what Oikawa had done during that night in their shared dorm.

It repeated in his mind like a broken record, taking up most of its space, and leaving no room to even think of anything else. What would he do? What would Iwaizumi do if these confessions were actually from you?

As far as he knows, it’s strictly fifty-fifty as of now—a fifty percent chance that they were from you because as vague as the first confession was, the second somewhat mirrored yesterday’s events with you. But also a fifty percent chance that this was all an uncanny coincidence, and Iwaizumi was just overthinking it. After all, he didn’t want to jump into any conclusions without a concrete reason.

For now, he ruled it as a mere coincidence. Waiting for another confession to confirm anything would probably be the best idea here, though, of course, that was if you—or the real person behind these submissions—were going to send in another.

Iwaizumi didn’t want to admit it—especially to Oikawa—but he was kind of looking forward to the next confession, even going as far as turning on the notifications for the page. Embarrassing, he knows but for one to underestimate a yearning man was like walking into a fight determined to lose. Though, Iwaizumi wouldn’t even know how to approach the situation if he were to get the confirmation he needed; would he confront you about it? That wasn’t really his style to do so, he could already imagine how awkward it was going to be—tripping over his words, and all crimson-cheeked.

Oddly enough, your words back at the study room last week equally bothered Iwaizumi, he couldn’t specify what about it made him feel this way.

Nevermind that, he needed to focus on the lecture material at hand. Or at least he tried to.

He sat inside the vast lecture hall filled with students, it wasn’t too packed nor was it too empty, just enough to freely give Iwaizumi the pleasure of choosing a seat where he could quietly take notes but also maybe slack a bit without their professor noticing—a few rows back from the middle. It was always like this whenever a new semester started, all students would attend their lectures for about a week straight before the numbers dwindled where a majority of them would rather watch their lectures at the comfort of their room, leaving a fair number of students who actually attended in-person.

The professor’s monotonous voice echoed throughout the lecture theatre—into Iwaizumi’s ear, and out. Despite his interest in the topic at hand, he couldn’t take his mind off you. He figured he might have to rewatch the recorded lecture once he’s back at his dorm to jot down important concepts.

Iwaizumi managed to force himself to actually listen in, even if it was half-assed, though this was only effective for five minutes or so due to his phone vibrating inside his pocket. As if on cue, his mind immediately wandered to the confessions page, what if it was another submission from that anonymous—from you. His hand itched to dip inside his pocket, and check the notification but at the same time, Iwaizumi didn’t want to be more distracted than he already was.

His mind chalked it up to a text from either Oikawa or you but that didn’t really do much—even just the thought of getting a text from you made him all the more curious about this random notification.

Oh fuck it.

Unceremoniously dropping his pen onto the desk, it rolled off to the edge, finding its comfort atop the carpeted floors just beside his foot. He’d get that later. Iwaizumi sank further into his seat as if doing so would somewhat shield him from the embarrassment that engulfed his body; acting this way over something so little, Oikawa wouldn’t let him see the end of it for sure.

A stutter bloomed inside Iwaizumi’s chest as his dark emerald eyes read the notification title—it was from the page. They had posted a new confession just a few minutes ago. Without wasting any more time, his thumb flew over to the notification. Iwaizumi didn’t know he had been holding his breath after releasing it once he was met with a loading screen.

There was nothing to be afraid of, really.

After a few seconds, the screen finally loaded, Iwaizumi’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the bottom of the post, checking to see if it was submitted by the same anonymous sender. It read,

Signed: Lovesick Fool

A wave of excitement washed over his body at those familiar words. Iwaizumi had to physically stop himself from smiling like a whole idiot over this, his free hand coming up to over the lower half of his face, hoping that his fellow classmates couldn’t see how silly he looked. Putting on the most stoic expression he could muster, Iwaizumi began reading,

‘I know you’ve seen the other confessions I’ve written, and you’ll most likely see this too.’

He sucked in a breath. The professor’s voice spilled from the lecture theatre’s speakers but it was muffled, and soft, it faded into a sweet, thumping melody—the melody of Iwaizumi’s heart; he could hear nothing but the pounding of the beast confined in his ribcage.

‘This sounds really really pathetic but fuck, everything you do just makes me hopelessly in love with you. The way your eyes light up every time you talk about your interests, the way you get kinda mad at me for being reckless at times only because you care—the list could go on and on. I hope you know that I love you with all my heart and soul and that I would gladly make you as much agedashi tofu as you want.’

Iwaizumi’s eyes fixated on two words, agedashi tofu.

To many, that may seem like an irrelevant, misplaced piece of information—completely random—but to Iwaizumi, it meant everything because not only was that his favourite but it also confirmed his suspicions, that you were the one behind these popular confessions, and you had just confessed how in love you were with him.

This was too much to even be deemed a coincidence. Dimples. His favourite food.

Warmth—no, a searing blaze. That was the only thing Iwaizumi could feel right now, not even the pounding of his chest, not even the tremble of his hands, not even the shortness of his breath but the burning of a thousand stars—fiery. As though an azure flame had been born in the depths of his chest.

Iwaizumi needed to see you now.

Twenty minutes. It had only been twenty minutes since the lecture started which meant Iwaizumi had to sit through another forty minutes before he could see you. Forty long minutes of squirming in his seat, and repeatedly glancing at the large digital clock on the wall. Forty long minutes of gnawing at the skin of his bottom lip, and impatiently bouncing his leg up, and down to ease the nerves eating him up.

If only Iwaizumi knew how to control time then he wouldn’t be facing this problem.

You might have fucked up. Maybe adding in a crucial piece of information—his favourite food—may have not been the smartest move; of course, others won’t bat an eye at it but the target audience, however—also known as one Iwaizumi Hajime—would immediately pick up on this. Though, what’s done was done, you just somehow wish that he wouldn’t come across this specific confession even though that’d be one-hundred percent unlikely.

Gnawing at your bottom lip, your eyes read through the paragraphs on your textbook, trying not to think of your most recent confession, and instead diverted your attention on the lecture material. It was going well ‘til your phone lit up, indicating a notification.

Wasting no time to check it, you sucked in a breath after seeing Iwaizumi’s name on the notification tab. It was a message from him, he must’ve just finished his afternoon lecture.

Okay. Okay. Having lunch together wasn’t foreign at all but you seemed even more nervous about it now, not to mention how Iwaizumi sounded so serious over text—well, maybe you were just being dramatic, that was how he normally texted. Though, the fact that he had to follow up with another message saying that only the two of you would be having lunch was a little odd. Iwaizumi was never one to specify these kinds of things.

It took Iwaizumi approximately seven minutes to walk from his lecture theatre to the library, three if he decided to do a light jog. As your figure came into view, sitting on a study desk amongst all the other students in the jam packed library floor, it reminded him of your confessions.

How had he been so oblivious to your feelings? Just the thought of you keeping all that to yourself gave Iwaizumi the urge to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug. Maybe later.

He greeted you with a small wave of his hand which you eagerly returned. The little gesture tugged at his heartstrings, and weakened his knees; now that Iwaizumi knew you reciprocated his feelings, he figured he deserved to let his guard down a little—this time, he won’t push them down like he used to do.

As you quietly packed things inside your bag, Iwaizumi took the pleasure of discretely watching you from the corner of his eyes. He stood by the study desk you sat on, thumb mindlessly scrolling on his phone while his gaze was on you.

The way the afternoon sun bounced off your glowing skin had him sucking in a breath. God, you looked effortlessly breathtaking as always. His eyes traced the outline of your features, gaze gently kissing every dip, and curve of your face, from the tint of your lips all the way to the length of your lashes. Iwaizumi looked off to the side, warmth bloomed from his chest, and crept up the column of his neck ‘til it cupped his cheeks.

“Let’s go?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, wary of fellow students studying. Iwaizumi returned a nod, and stiffly led the way.

He could feel everything wrong with his movements—the way his legs felt weird, the awkward stride in each step, how his arms felt heavy against his sides. It was as though Iwaizumi’s body wasn’t insynched, he was all over the place yet the only thing that remained constant was his yearning heart.

You fell into a step next to Iwaizumi, clearly aware of his silence. Usually, he’d be talking your ear off about today’s lecture despite not understanding a single thing from your end but all you got was nothing. Sneaking a glance to the side, you caught a glimpse of a slight scowl on his face, one that he usually put on when in deep thought. 

The warmth of your body slowly seeped on to his own, your hand was centimetres away from his, and it beckoned him like a sweet, sweet temptation, an invisible string pulling, and pulling his hand closer to yours until—

Both of you flinched at the subtle contact, a slight brush of his knuckles against yours yet it was as though his skin burned like an azure blaze.

“Oh, sorry.” Iwaizumi gave you a sheepish look, rubbing his nape with the hand that touched yours. You shook your head, mumbling a small ‘it’s okay’ but was it really when the warmth of your cheeks, and the beating of your heart said otherwise?

The touch was momentarily yet it was as though you’ve caught a glimpse of great ecstasy, the feeling of Iwaizumi’s bare skin against your own had you yearning for more like a touch starved man. You couldn’t quite figure out why he’s been acting so foreign lately but you weren’t much better yourself.

Ever since last week, the air between you, and Iwaizumi has turned weird—as if the two of you danced around each other but took no further step to initiate anything; whatever that anything was, you didn’t know.

The abrupt sound of his shoes against the pavement reeled you away from your thoughts. Looking behind you, you’ve noticed that Iwaizumi had come to a stop, hands balled beside him, and a tinge of crimson on the tips of his ears.

Confusion clouded your mind, “You oka—” “The confessions.” Iwaizumi cut you off. Your heart violently stuttered.

“Those are from you, right? The ones signed with ‘lovesick fool’.” 

Oh, how badly you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, words lodged inside your throat but didn’t dare come out, all you could really do was stare at Iwaizumi wide-eyed as embarrassment stuck to your body like a leech.

Two options: act like you don’t know anything or run away but seeing as how serious Iwaizumi was, you figured he didn’t have time for silly games.

“How did you—oh my god this is so embarrassing.” Just the thought of pouring your heart out into those confessions, and Iwaizumi fully aware that you were behind them was enough reason to crawl into a hole, and disappear forever. Not to mention how he most likely didn’t even reciprocate your feelings.

Iwaizumi took a few steps closer, a small smile danced on his lips. Oh, so he was finding this all funny, huh? But somehow it gave you a tinge of hope that rejection was out of the picture.

“If I’m being honest, you gave it away from the first confession,” Your eyes widened at his words, trying to rethink back on the first confession you submitted. What the hell. You were so sure to be careful, and vague about it. “Well, not the confession itself but what you said when Oikawa read it out loud,”

“You said something about how it was a long term friendship yet the confession never mentioned anything like that—”

Oh. So, in conclusion, you fucked up.

“—not to mention the dimples in the second confession, and agedashi tofu on the third.”

You buried your face in your palms, turning into putty—not the good kind—as the words came out of Iwaizumi’s mouth. Never mind rejection, this was more embarrassing, definitely a core memory for the books, one that you’d never read.

“Look at me.” He softly chuckled but you were stubborn, shaking your head behind your palms.

Iwaizumi let out a sigh before his hands came up to your own, gently guiding them away from your face to meet your gaze. He didn’t stop there, Iwaizumi held your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze that matched his reassuring smile.

“Are you gonna reject me now?” “Close your eyes.”

Huffing at the way he ignored your question, you obliged anyway, fluttering your eyes shut. At least this was one step better than being rejected on the spot. All you could feel was the warmth of his hand, and the violent pounding of your heart against your chest.

What was he even up to?

Iwaizumi traced your features with his gaze, dropping down, down, down ‘til it found your lips.

After a heartbeat, you felt something warm press against your face—no, your lips. It was only for a brief moment yet you craved its softness, his softness more than anything. You opened your eyes to see a crimson-faced Iwaizumi, he was just as shell-shocked as you were by his own actions.

“Did that—did that answer your question?” “You’re absolutely unbelievable. Kiss me again.”

Iwaizumi didn’t have to be told twice. This time, he did so with more passion. He was going to kiss you as many times as you wished, maybe until all the air in his lungs ran out if it meant your happiness. Because now, he wasn’t going to let you go, not when the taste of this beginning was so, so sweet.

Maybe pouring your heart out to the university confessions page wasn’t a stupid move at all.

—

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© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[princessbrunette]

telling rafe, "hm must've been one of ur other hoes," when he tries to scold you for doing something if that makes sense? like just trying to stop him from disciplining you with a little jokie joke but he's just like 😐😠

ಇ.ೀ

you swing your legs where you sit at the kitchen table, pushing your spoon around your now empty plate as rafe storms all around the kitchen — doing whatever the fuck he needed to do. he’d been neglecting you lately, busy and scatterbrained — and when he got like this, you craved being a brat.

“you— you know you’ve been a real pain in my ass all day.” he complains, opening drawers and cupboards seeming to be looking for something. you blink, eyeing him with an obvious attitude.

“have not. barely said anything to you today.”

“exactly, that — that right there.” he clicks, whirling on you to point a finger before carrying on.

“you’ve barely been around, how can i talk to you if you’re not here? i dunno, but it wasn’t me. must have been one of your other little hoes—” it’s a low blow, and you know it, the oldest cameron at your side in an instant, roughly gripping at your cheeks.

“you wanna repeat that or you wanna get fuckin’ slapped? nah, go ahead. talk your shit.” he adjusts his grip to your jaw so that you could speak if brave enough to do so. you blink up at him, wide and glassy eyed expression only making him cement the idea of a punishment in his mind. “get the hell upstairs, n’don’t make me ask you twice.” he drawls, quietly, threateningly.

shamefully, you hop off the seat and stand — taking one step away from him before he yanks you back by the shoulder nearly making you stumble. in the same second, he slaps your ass so hard it would make your head spin before shoving you off to walk again.

“other hoes. the hell’s wrong with you?” he mutters to himself as you disappear, finishing up what he was doing in the kitchen before joining you.

ಇ.ೀ

[zorrasucia]

look at how well you take me. even though it's been so long.

for carmy x reader PLEASE

Hello Anon! 💜

Gladly! I wrote this as a loose sequel to this, though it's only relevant in that Reader is Chef Terry's goddaughter and they met back in Copenhagen. I hope you like it! 😊

Carmy burst through the door of your hiding spot, making you jump in shock.

"Fuck!" he cursed. "Sorry, thought this was empty."

He was about to leave without even looking at you and you reached for him.

"Carmy?" you held his wrist.

He finally saw your face. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed and immediately enveloped you in a tight hug.

You hadn't seen each other in literal years but even so, his hold felt a little too intense and desperate.

"You okay?" you whispered.

"Um, I don't- I don't know," his voice broke and you could hear the tears he was holding back.

"It's okay, Carm," you squeezed him, putting more of your weight into the hug. "I'm right here."

You stayed there, running your fingers soothingly on his shoulders and the nape of his neck.

He sniffled. "You're here," he repeated. After a pause he mumbled: "Why are you here?"

"I came for the funeral," you replied quietly. You thought it would be obvious, given that you were both inside the cloakroom of Aunt Terry's restaurant but Carmy seemed very disoriented. "I couldn't miss it. It's Ever."

"It's Ever," Carmy hummed in agreement. "Uh, I meant what are you doing here in the cloakroom."

"I'm not made for networking," you sighed. "I needed a break. And, well, I don't smoke - so the cloakroom seemed a good idea."

"I'm trying to quit smoking. Maybe you're right and this is a good spot," he said gently.

He took a step back, a little more collected, even if his eyes still looked teary in the halflit room.

You smiled. "It's good to see you, Carm. I thought you were still in New York," you said and it felt a little too formal for the way you were holding each other just seconds ago.

"No, I've been, uh, been in Chicago the last few months... Two years now, shit..." it seemed like he was realizing it just as he was saying it.

"Is it nice? Being home?" you asked, tilting your head, studying his reaction.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I opened a restaurant that might close next week if we don't get a good review but, uh, you know," he said flatly.

You reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles.

"Is that why you're upset?"

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Just now? Like I get how it would be upsetting to attend a funeral when your own restaurant might-" you explained your reasoning.

"Oh! No, it's not-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I, uh, ran into my asshole boss. From New York. He's- He messed me up real bad," he was still avoiding your gaze but he let you cup his face, comforting him. "So I, I confronted him and he, uh, he thinks he did me a favor. Like, shit, I knew he was a fucking psychopath but he doesn't even care. He doesn't-"

His voice broke again and you brought him back into your arms, his face tucked to the side of your neck, tears wetting your skin.

"It's okay. You're okay," you caressed his hair. "I'm right here, Carmy."

He nodded, unable to speak for a while. He squeezed you, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

"Missed you too," you soothed.

Slowly, his head turned and he started leaving kisses up the side of your neck, to your jaw, the side of your face, the corner of your mouth...

"This okay?" he asked, tracing the same sensual path on the other side of your neck.

"You're not thinking straight, Carm," you hummed, not making any effort to move away from his reach, carding your hands through his hair and bringing him closer instead. "You're angry. And sad."

It was so easy to forget that a few years had passed and this wasn't the Carmy you knew and cared for back in Copenhagen, not anymore.

"I'm tired of fucking thinking," he slurred, running his hands over your sides hungrily. "I want things to go quiet just for a while."

You melted, his hands breaking down whatever small resolve you had.

"Okay," you agreed, dragging him by the neck to press your lips against his.

Carmy gave you desperate kisses as he cornered you against the wall. He cupped your breasts over your dress, humming appreciatively at the low neckline.

"You look so fucking nice," he growled.

His left hand bunched up the side of your dress, trying to caress your leg. You giggled.

"Don't remember you being ticklish" he remarked, cocking his head.

"I'm not," you guided his right hand up your opposite thigh, to the high slit of your dress, giving him plenty of access without bunching up the dress.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned, his calloused hands quickly finding the edge of your lace panties. "Can I -?"

You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and looking at the new tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Please. I need your fingers," you whined.

Carmy didn't make you wait, pushing your underwear down your legs, caressing your pussy, already wet for him. He kissed your collarbone and the tops of your breasts while tracing lines between your folds, a low squelching sound coming from underneath your dress as he inserted two digits at once.

"Shit."

"My clit," you begged, angling your hips so his thumb pressed the exact spot.

He started moving, a quick and unforgiving rhythm making you melt in his arms, rolling your hips and moaning, holding tight to his shoulders to stand upright.

"Close?" he rasped.

"So fucking close."

"Will you let me fuck you against the wall after you cum?" he asked low.

It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly your pussy was fluttering around his fingers. He covered your mouth with his free hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, Carmy," you panted, holding the wall for support while he unbuckled his belt.

"Shit," he stopped in his tracks and started going through the coats and jackets that were hanging on the opposite wall.

"Carm? What are you doing?"

"Just a sec," he mumbled. Once he found an informal leather jacket, he started going through its many pockets. "Come on, Richie," he whispered, then smiled in triumph as he took out a condom from the inside pocket.

"Should I ask?" you grinned, entertained watching Carmy unbutton his trousers, pump himself and roll the condom on.

"Better not," he stood in front of you, one of your arms rounded his shoulders, your free hand held his cock.

"You've always been a handful," you said - the flirtatious play on words taking you back years ago, to Copenhagen, and the first time he fucked you.

"Hmm," he closed his eyes in pleasure, completely at your mercy as you lined him up to your pussy.

He pushed lightly, an inch, then another. You whined at the stretch. "You okay?"

"It's good, so good," you managed, holding on to his shoulders, "just go slow."

Carmy nodded, the gentle movement of his hips like the swaying boat where you so often had shared a bed. You were letting out needy sounds and muffling them into your hand, as he got deeper and deeper. You encouraged him, bringing him closer by squeezing his ass, scratching at his pale skin until he was buried inside you to the hilt.

"Carm..."

He stayed still for a moment, kissing you tenderly.

"Need this," he mumbled against your lips. "Need you."

"Yeah?" you teased, circling your hips, making him moan. "How much?"

"A lot," he said, hips moving backwards slowly, his cock almost all the way out. Then, he drove back into you, quick, hard. You bit your lip to silence a high pitched moan. "A lot - a lot."

He grabbed your thighs, pressing you against the wall, lifting you.

"Fast and hard?" you suggested. You usually liked to take your time but fucking inside a closet - albeit a fancy one - asked for practicality and speed. And Carmy needed to blow off some steam.

He nodded, speechless as he started building a quick pace, driving into you like his life depended on it. You held him close, resorting to bite on the shoulder pad of his suit jacket to stay quiet.

"Wait," Carmy moved slightly, enough to press his forehead to yours and look down, hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared inside your pussy. Carmy's eyes widened, pupils blown and mouth half open. "Look at how well you take me. Even though it's been so long," he mumbled and you knew deep inside that it wasn't a line. He was truly dazed and euphoric that this was happening.

"Carm," you pleaded. "Let go for me, baby. I know you need it."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mhmm," he agreed, panting. "'m close."

You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching with satisfaction as that simple effort made him lose control, rutting messily, soft grunts leaving his lips as he came hard.

"Shit," he cursed, his lips on the side of your face.

You exhaled, content, as he let you down, landing on one foot then the other. Your heels were on the floor, somewhere, lost while your legs shook around Carmy's waist. "Better? Stopped thinking for a bit?" you inquired a little cockily.

"Not sure where we are right now, to be honest," he drawled.

"Good."