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purplecoffee13 · 14 days

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Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.

A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!

General Masterlist

PART 2

You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.

With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.

When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.

Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.

Your mother had stuck with one man.

Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.

That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.

After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.

So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.

It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.

It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.

You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.

After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.

At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.

Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.

Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.

There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.

In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.

"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.

"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"

Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.

"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."

The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.

"Harry."

Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.

Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.

Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.

But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.

Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.

The way you stumbled over your words and let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.

Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.

Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.

************************************************

ONE DAY LATER

Your shoulders are hurting.

After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.

When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.

Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.

Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.

You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.

Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.

"Hey!" You say instead.

"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"

Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."

You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.

"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.

"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.

"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.

"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.

"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.

A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.

Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.

It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.

Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.

You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.

You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.

You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.

"Need some help, pumpkin?"

Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.

Then, an idea enters your mind.

You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."

The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."

Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.

"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.

You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.

"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.

"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.

"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.

He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.

Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.

"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.

You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.

You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"

You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.

He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.

"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."

You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:

"You too."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.

Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.

Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.

You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.

"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.

You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.

*****************************************

A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.

The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.

After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.

You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.

Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?

Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.

Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.

Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.

Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.

Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.

So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.

Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.

"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.

"Good, love."

You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.

"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.

"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.

Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.

"Do I scare you?"

Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"

"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.

"Well, there you have your answer."

With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...

"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."

Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.

“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.

“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.

“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.

“Go sit.”

Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.

“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.

“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.

“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.

“What are their names?” You ask.

“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.

“You named your girl cat Hades?”

“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.

“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”

Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”

You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.

You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.

“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”

995 notes · View notes

hyuny-bunny · 2 months

Note

what are your thoughts on skz with a dumb s/o? like genuinely ditzy and little absentminded and forgetful, but you’re still such a sweetheart. makes them wonder how dumb you’ll go on their cocks.

skz + dumb s/o

MDNI(18+): suggestive, nsfw, corruption kink, dumb kink ?, finger sucking, oral, penetration.

love this ask so much, it's not something i've thought much about before but here you go ! :3

chan: oh he dotes on you sooooo much. in the beginning he thought it was just a cute quirk but as you became more serious he realized... you really are just ditzy. he can't lie that he has to hold back on the days you can't help saying "huh?" or "hmm?" to everything but it sounds so saccharine from you. he loves the duality of it though. he can dote on you with how cute your whims are then flip you into a submissive state. even more so when he decides to pin you down in the backseat of his car putting your pretty mouth to good use. chastising you with "pretty baby so cock dumb hmm? only good for sucking me off huh?" with your response being your typical "hmm?" but your mouth stuffed with cock instead. even with your whimpers to take more of him in your mouth, he's happy to oblige holding your pretty face in his hands to use your mouth.

minho: as 1/3 of paboracha, he's never minded. intially i think he would think consider them as one off moments like asking the same question twice in a 2 second span. he might look at for a solid momemt with those cat blinking stares, processing that you're serious. he finds it cute though!! maybe quietly giggling to himself before kissing you on the forehead in passing. he likes it even more so when you're too cock dumb from him making you ride him while he coos and pets you like he does a cat. after trying to tease him all day with sex and suggestive groping. he only let you ride his thigh before caving into you enough to give you his cock after you begged him so nicely. "jagiya, use your words hm? too dumb to speak now hmm?" he'll say while thrusting up into you pretending he's not paying you any attention

changbin: loves loves loves how ditzy you are. he likes playing into the idea that he's just as much brain as he is brawn to you. especially when you're so absentminded with your surroundings in public. maybe there's someone being creepy towards you in a cafe, he's clocked them in already wrapping a protective arm around. you pick up in his protectiveness and to find your answer is being stared down with daggers by binnie. you're hero, savior! you have to reward him with the best head he'll ever had so you're happily taking him in your mouth once your home. he's got you on his cock taking him all the way down his throat while he coaxes you into fitting it all in your mouth "stupid angel always needs time to come to rescue mmh rewards me so sweetly."

hyunjin: 2/3 of paboracha coming in. he'd never think you were outright dumb, ditzy ? oblivious ? yes. he himself has no room to judge, you'd probably have him questioning himself on multiple occasions. you're probably just a little more oblivious around him, which he doesn't mind one bit. he kinda finds it cute how little though you probably give to so many things. he finds it even cuter when he's able to convince you to wear an outfit he picked out for you, one that of course will give him easy access to tease you in public. it was supposed to be cute picnic in secluded area of the park, until he had you laid out on the blanket taking his cock from behind shoving strawberry in your mouth & sucking fingers to shut you up. "shhh my love, don't want people to find us okay? can't let them see how stupid you were to let me take you like this"

han: going 3 for 3 with paboracha here. another one who dotes on your ditzy nature. i could see him with a s/o that's a little more clumsy. maybe you're always scraping a knee, bumping into sharp corners, burning yourself while cooking/baking, or just straight up walking into glass doors or poles. whatever the case may be he's there holding out his arms to soothe you, giving you kisses all over your face. he finds out how easy it is to convince you to the dumbest things. like convincing you that if you let him go down on you, his headache will go away or you're sore throat from the concert last night will feel sooooo much better if you blow him. that by swallow his cum, it'll feel & tase better then honey. "that's it's, good, suck me dry baby i promise you'll feel better. we might have to try a few loads of cum for it to work, k? just focus on taking it all though." his head thrown back while shoving you further on his cock.

felix: he likes that your so absentminded and ditzy. it make its so easy for him to impress you. especially when he has you sitting like a curious cat on his bed while you watch him build his new PC. your eyes sparking with excitement as he completes each step. or even when you watch him bake his recipes from scratch. doe eyed while you sit perched on the counter making your favorite brownies! he'd take a finger coated in the batter letting you lick off his fingers which only leads to him fucking you on the counter while he makes you choke on his batter covered fingers, "doesn't your orgasm feel so much better when you have something so sweet in your mouth mm? maybe let's watch you suck me off with the batter on my cock since you like my fingers so much?"

seungmin: mean dom seung *sigh*. he loves you to death but god you make it so easy for him to tease you. you're not a quick as he is, whether it's his snarky remarks or quick reactions to things he knows. you try to learn baseball, not actually playing but you know the basic rules. you want to try to at least understand what goes in the game. you're not the best but your attempts don't go unnoticed. even when someone hits a home-run but you're shouting goal so confidently it has him falling to his knees in laughing clutching his stomach because you genuinely meant it. he calls you the nth member of paboracha but in bed you're his dumb cock slut, taking him so good you're babbling nonsense. " what was that slut ? did you say something ? aren't you too dumb for words? " he'd condescendingly say before slamming himself into you once more.

jeongin: bark. sorry i love him so badly. he takes your ditzy nature as naiveness. whether or not that's the case, he'll treat it that way. even when you try to argue over something you know already he'll talk to you so sweetly like he's done such a good job of teaching you. maybe you're trying to learn japanese and his fluency helps you but he'll tsk you if he's in a particular mood. maybe you're out in japan gawking, 'ooh'ing and 'aww'ing at each store and you're curiosity almost gets you dragged in a male host club. so jeongin decides you need a break for a few hours so he checks you into a love hotel (unbeknownst to you) where he'd spend the next 2 hours or so talking down in your ear while he plays with you between your legs. haughtily scolding you for every single thing that's led to this moment, " i thought you knew better ? you have to listen to me jagiya, there's so many people out there that just want to use you hmm. guess i'll just have to show you." all before bending you over and smooshing your face into the pillow to abuse your hole with his cock, crying out for him to let you cum. chastising you until he's felt you learned you lesson.

#skz oneshots #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunybunnywrites #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #lee know smut #jeongin smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut

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smusherina · 3 months

Text

yard work - chapter 2 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 3

During the school day, she'd ignore you as usual. Wandering the halls of Northshore, you'd catch glimpses of her but no more than that. It actually felt like you were seeing less of her than usual. It was hard to avoid somebody in a school like Northshore, but somehow she managed it. You doubted it had anything to do with you specifically. She'd been acting off since you'd had dinner at the Georges'.

After school, those days you went to Regina's house to do their yard work, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Gretchen and Karen weren't around. Regina had taken her mom's place on the patio and bathed in the sun as you worked.

You hated to say it was distracting. Partly because the whole thing had thrown you off kilter, like why was she doing all this all of a sudden, and also because she was hot. There was no question about it. Regina George was hot.

You desperately tried maintaining focus on the chlorine you were pouring into the pool, pretending you weren't all too aware of Regina lying not too far away from you, in a skimpy hot pink bikini, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Regina! Oh, that's such a cute 'suit you got, where'd you get it?" You were distantly aware of Mrs George stepping through the sliding door to the backyard. Regina muttered something in return. You didn't have to look to see Mrs George wilt at her daughter's dismissal.

It pissed you off. Regina didn't have to entertain her mom's every whim, she could be a bit much, even you could admit that, but she didn't have to be so mean.

You walked over to them with the empty chlorine bag in hand. "Hey, Mrs George." You called as you approached. "Margaritas?"

"Hi, sweetie! I brought you two some, gotta stay hydrated in this hot weather. All virgin, of course!" Mrs George winked and offered up the tray she had in her hands. You smiled gratefully and took one of the glasses. You were actually quite thirsty and Regina's mom made the best (alcohol-free) cocktails.

"Thanks," You said before taking a sip. Mm, strawberry and basil. Yummy.

"Just leave it there, mom. She's gotta work and I'm busy." Regina pointed at the little table next to the sunbeds before directing her attention back to, uh, lying in the sun. She sure looked busy.

"Okay, honey." Mrs George smiled, but the chirp in her voice was strained. "You just call and I'll be right here, alright?" She looked from her daughter to you.

"You got it, Mrs George."

Once the older woman had ducked out of the door and closed it behind her, you turned to Regina.

"You don't need to be mean, y'know." You took a sip, watching the pink slush move through the swirly straw.

"Excuse me?" Regina craned her neck in your direction, looking very uncomfortable. You walked around to the sunbed next to hers and sat down facing her.

"She just brought us margaritas." You said, continuing to sip on your drink.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm busy." She huffed before reaching for her own drink. "Why she feels the need to bother me is beyond me."

"She's your mom and wanted to do something nice." You rolled your eyes, already sick of her attitude.

Regina didn't bother responding. You adjusted on the seat so you were sitting on it the right way, legs kicked up and leaned back. You decided to relax for a few minutes. It was still the beginning of the school year, September barely just started, so summer was still lingering warm in the air.

There was a robin's nest in one of the apple trees. Red-chested birds flew around, from their home branch to the bird pool, to somewhere you couldn't see and back. Soon it'd be apple picking season. For the last two years of high school Mrs George had given you maybe more than half the apples since she didn't know what to do with so much. Before that, it used to be you and Regina. Picking apples, sitting on the branches, peeling each and every one and boiling them into jam with obscene amounts of sugar. Looking back, you were pretty sure doing all those things without proper adult supervision was like tempting a tragic accident.

(To be fair, you had fallen out of those apple trees once before. You were maybe twelve and it was the middle of summer. You'd lost your balance and toppled onto your wrist. Regina had nearly fallen herself scrambling down to get you. She'd cried more than you and you were the one with a broken bone. She insisted you pick a pink cast. She was the first to sign it, too.)

Out in the sun, it was much hotter than under the partial shade in the yard. You chugged the rest of your drink before standing back up. You pulled off your shirt as you walked to the patio stairs, leaving on just a sports bra and your shorts.

"Jean shorts are so lame," Regina said behind you. You turned to look at her and found her looking at you from over her sunglasses. Her eyes raked over your body, no doubt judging how much weight you'd gained since she last saw you without clothes.

Fuck. Not like that. That sounded wrong. You had spent a lot of time at her pool, both of you in swimsuits, as kids. A totally normal, non-sexual setting.

You shrugged, pretending her wandering eye did not make you insecure. "I like my jorts."

"Your taste is questionable." Regina scoffed, a little smile playing on her lips. "At best." She added sassily. You had a feeling she was mocking you.

"Thanks!" You struck a little pose, cocking your hip and blowing a kiss her way, responding in an equally snarky manner. You knew you didn't stand up to her fashion standards. Loose jean shorts down to a little above your knees, basic brown slides, and now sans a raggedy, well-loved Queen tee was not exactly high couture.

"You're not cute, jorts." She leaned up on her elbows and pushed the shades up to her hair. "I think I saw this exact outfit on you, like, three years ago." She pretended to think, finger on her chin. "So, when we were thirteen..."

"Yeah, you probably did." You chuckled. "You also called me jorts three years ago. So, clearly, nothing's changed, right?"

You both damn well knew a lot had changed. Still, she entertained you with a seemingly genuine smile. You smiled back before turning away to retrieve some tools from the shed. There was a gap in the fence that needed fixing.

Then, for the following week and then some, as if the past years of her ignoring you hadn't happened at all, she started speaking to you. Not at school, though, never in public. Only Kylie and Mrs George were privy to your rekindled friendship. You weren't sure if you could even call it that. Was it friendship if it was conditional to time and place?

You couldn't find it in yourself to care too much, though. You had your own crowd at school. You had things other than the Georges' yard work to do. Sometimes you went skating with the guys, picked up shifts at the shop, did chores and yard work at home, played video games, and on rare occasions studied. You had a life outside of Regina George.

So what if when you fucked up a trick and looked around all frantic, checking that Regina hadn't suddenly spawned at the skate park and seen your epic fall. So what if you spent your work hours thinking about her, counting down the minutes until you got to clean the Georges' pool again. So fucking what you wanted to beat the shit out of Regina in Mortal Kombat.

Maybe you did care. You wanted to spend more time with her. Was that a crime? If you could talk during the several hours of the day, five days a week, that the two of you went to the same school, then that want would've abated. But you had to wait. Sometimes there were several days in a row that you barely got a glimpse of her.

You sounded pathetic. Gosh. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you got a taste of what it was like to have her back. You couldn't even remember what had caused her sudden avoidance back then. Something with Janice and a sleepover. The details had gone blurry since then. You hadn't even been at the sleepover, but you'd heard something bad had gone down. Something that caused Janis 'Imi'ike to switch schools for the remainder of middle school.

Sighing, you let your pencil fall from your hand. You fucking hated algebra. Functional math, business math, that you could deal with, but derivatives and parables and all that stuff? No. Just no.

You rolled your chair back from your desk and decided it was high time for some relaxation. You walked across the hallway to the computer room, planning on fucking around on RuneScape.

Before you could get into gaming, though, you checked AIM and noticed you had a message. From Regina. What? You click the chat open and see that it's been sent a pretty long while ago.

> can i come over? daddys home

You stared at the uncharacteristic message. You two never spent time at your house back then. It was always empty and you didn't have the same fun things Regina did. Mrs George had been a significantly better cook, to add. Your toaster oven tater tots and dino nuggies couldn't compare.

But, hey, maybe this was the start of something new.

> sure > when? whenevr is fine w me

That could've all been one message but, well, here you were. You jumped in your seat when she responded almost immediately.

> omw

Shit. You shot up from the desk chair, sending it rolling to the other side of the room. You shut down the behemoth of a machine as fast as you could, which wasn't very fast, and shot down the stairs. The living room was a mess 'cause you'd spent the last few days pigging out in front of the TV, playing videogames and eating exclusively takeout.

You spent some time in the pantry trying to look for a garbage bag, time was running out, before rushing to the crime scene that was the couch. Styrofoam containers, probably some cutlery, empty bags of Cheetos and whatnot, empty cans, all that flew into the bag. You wouldn't have time to vacuum, so you just brushed the crumbs away into the couch cushions or onto the floor.

You were almost done when the doorbell rang. You had collected all the trash, but you still had to put away some of the still good leftovers. Didn't wanna waste those since you could eat it later.

"Hi!" You exclaimed, a little too riled up to seem sensible at the door. "I was just cleaning up."

"I see that." Regina drawled, eyeing the garbage bag as well as you. You'd completely forgotten about how you looked.

"Shit, sorry," You looked down at your body and the unfortunate clothes draped over it. Blue briefs with little Spidermen printed on them and a ratty grey hoodie with a devastating stain right on your chest. Your hair probably looked just as bad. You hadn't been bothered to fix up your bedhead, it was a goddamn Sunday.

"Don't worry about me." Regina, with her hands at her hips, looked at you expectantly. "So..."

"Yeah, uh, just stay here," You turned and put your sandals on. "I'll put this to the trash and, I still gotta put some things away and then you can come inside."

Regina just stared at you. You pursed your lips together and hustled past her, down the porch steps and toward the trash cans. By the time you'd hauled the bag away, you could no longer see Regina on the porch.

"Regina! I said don't go in!" You ran after her.

"Don't be ridiculous, jorts, I'm not afraid of a mess. Gosh." You could hear her from inside, probably taking her shoes off. That'd been a thing at your house always, but you didn't expect her to remember.

"Fucking- fine, okay, just..." You huffed as you spied her saunter into your living room as if she owned the place. She slumped down onto the couch, the very same you'd slept on the previous night.

You collected the food from the coffee table and moved it to the kitchen. You gave tentative sniffs to glean if they'd gone bad already. They'd only been out in the open for like, less than a day. So it was probably fine.

"When'd you order that?" Regina's voice came from behind you unexpectedly. You turned to her, caught with your nose in some noodles.

"Uh, last night..." You wiped at your nose with your sleeve.

She walked up to the container, right up in your space, and also gave it a sniff. Then she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same," You poured the noodles into Tupperware and shoved it into the fridge.

"Why's your fridge so empty? Has your dad gone bankrupt?" Regina stepped in before you could fully close the door.

"No, Reggie, he's fine. I don't have the money to stock up like your mom."

Regina turned to look at you, a displeased pout on her lips. She'd always hated it when you called her that. "I fucking hate that stupid nickname. And what do you mean you don't have the money?"

"I mean I don't have the money?" You paused in pouring beef and broccoli into another container, turning to look at her.

"Doesn't he send you money or make someone do it for you when he's away?"

You smiled a little bitterly. "He hasn't done that since I was, like, twelve." You paused. "Well, he's always sent me money but he used to have my babysitter buy groceries when I was way young."

Regina's lips twisted like she was genuinely thinking. You continued, feeling weird now that such a weirdly vulnerable conversation had been opened: "He sends me an allowance every week for groceries and school lunch, but it's not that much. If I didn't work at yours or at the shop I'd be toast." You grinned as you put on the last lid, moving to put the last two containers into the fridge too.

Regina didn't look all that amused. She was still frowning at your fridge, the rather pathetic state of it. You could admit it was pretty bleak. Two-litre bottles of various sodas, microwave meals, and an astonishing amount of condiments were not a sight that sparked hope.

"That's weird," Regina commented. "It's like you're poor but with a nice house."

"Gee, thanks so much, Reg, that makes me feel so good and seen." You drolled. "Oh, you think I have a nice house? That's nice."

"It's alright, I guess. Mine's better." Back to her usual, unthinking and overall not-that-nice persona. This was familiar territory.

"I would know. I work there." You motioned for her to follow you to the couch. "I'm gonna pick your apples soon."

"Daddy's home now. I don't know if you can." Regina sat with her shins tucked under her, leaning her side against the back of the couch. You sat a comfortable distance away, facing her with your legs crossed.

"What did your dad do again?" You asked, trying to remember.

"I don't fucking know." She gestured with her hand. "Human trafficking?"

"I hear it's a lucrative business." You grinned, enjoying talking like this with your old friend.

"We should start a company. Who'd you think would have a good price at our school?" She looked so excited at the prospect of talking shit about your peers. It was a little adorable, but in the way that a man-eating beast was. Like a devil cougar or something like that.

"I think that's eugenics, Reg." You muttered, jokingly wincing. "That's problematic."

"What, are you gonna sue me?" She leaned forward, inclining her head cheekily. "With what money?"

"With daddy's money, you fuck!" You laughed. "What money are you gonna sue me with? Wait, let me guess, uhh... Daddy's money."

"I'll have you know, it might be mommy's money." She widened her eyes dramatically as she began to tell the story. "I did some snooping around, and it just so happens daddy might not be the breadwinner after all, because-"

As Regina got into telling you about Mrs George's strange investments, which she and Kylie both had been pretty sure were pyramid schemes, you listened keenly and watched as she spun the story. She'd always been a good storyteller, good with performing and making the room pay attention to her. It was a shame she'd started to use her powers for evil.

Sitting here, Regina George on your dirty couch in her designer clothes and all, listening as she told you about the most mundane things in her life, made you feel warm in a way you hadn't in a long time. Loneliness was a quiet thing. It snuck up on you and you hadn't even noticed.

You hoped she wouldn't duck out of your life again.

Notes: Written late at night. My eyes don't work like they used to before. Might've missed some spelling errors or weird grammar. I'll return to it after I've slept. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is firmly set in 2004. This story takes elements from both films, 2004 and 2024, but time-wise it is 2004. Another thing, I changed up the chapter titles. Originally, the first part was the prologue but then I thought about it and it really isn't like a prologue. So, that was chapter 1 and this is chapter 2. Bye-bye, party people.

Taglist: One person asked for this lmao, but I am but a servant of the people. Comment on this post if you wanna be tagged on the next part when it comes out. Disclaimer! Chapters will not usually come out this fast.

@autorasexy

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls 2004 #mean girls fanfic #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #reader insert #no use of y/n #regina george #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work

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surielstea · 4 months

Text

Friends Don’t Kiss

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Azriel and reader refuse to accept their feelings so Mor and Cassian interfere.

Warnings: Fluff | Slight Angst | Suggestive

5.3k words

The storm outside my large window rattles me awake. I jolt upward at the next clap of thunder, rain sputtering down onto the glass wall so harsh it was as if it might shatter.

My heartbeat picks up as the wind howls intensely on the outside of my walls. I slip from my sheets and walk over to the window, pulling the curtains closed. I jump again when another thunder strike booms, the sound reminding me of an unfortunate event that happened as a child, I could still remember the fear on my mother's face as she anxiously peered out her window whenever a storm rolled in. I didn't know why she was so scared then, but now that I've reached adulthood I realized— the uncertainty of it, the wildness that could kill anyone I love based on a whim, and I'd be able to do nothing about it.

I tremble, deciding sleep would be impossible with how fast my mind was racing. I walk over to my bedroom door, deciding to fetch a glass of water to calm my nerves. But when I open the door I'm met with a figure on the other side, preparing to knock. "Azriel," I begin looking up at him with creased brows. "Hey, you alright?" He asks. He was one of the only people who knew about my fear of storms like these, likely because he was the one I went to when feeling particularly scared.

"I'm fine I just—" My breath hitched as another strike of thunder snapped and a shudder racks through me, my body passive as I wrapped my arms around Azriel's torso and held him close, praying to the mother he'd hold me back. Of course, he does. One of his hands comes to my back while the other weaves into my hair.

"You're okay. Everything's okay." He reassures, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of my head. Another boom and I squeeze him tighter, as if he might disappear from my grasp. "Why don't you come to my room tonight?" He offers and I nod into his chest. He slowly detaches from the hug and I do the same, his fingers finding mine and intertwining them as he pulls me out from the doorway of my bedroom and across the hall.

His room was much larger, as well as his bed— made to fit Illyrian wings. I invite myself onto his mattress, sinking into the plush blankets. I slip beneath them as Azriel slides onto his side of the bed, his arm curling around me before tugging me right into him. I flip around to face him, our legs intertwined and our chests flushed against each other.

"Thank you, Az," I mumble, his hand brushing up my waist to cup my cheek. "You don't have to thank me." He shakes his head. Another crack outside the window but I don't jump, not while in his arms. "Go to sleep, I'll be here if you wake up alright?" He reassured, his tone light. I nod and he kisses the top of my forehead before wrapping both of his arms around me and tucking me into his chest.

I release a soft sigh as I allow myself to melt into his warmth, his chin propped atop my head as I cuddle into him. My heart rate was still rapid but now for an entirely different reason. I hoped he couldn't hear it, or that he'd blame it on the thunder. The last thing I needed at the moment was for him to find out I loved him just as much as I hated storms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I shift as a certain weight lifts from my torso, and then a familiar warmth disappears and I shiver from the newfound cold. I flip over with an incoherent mumble, reaching to the side of me but not finding Azriel's bare torso, instead my hand comes in contact with a soft pillow. "Good morning, love." A familiar voice hums and I squint my eyes open, spotting Azriel beside the bed staring down at me with a gentle smile on his lips.

"Hi," I mumble tiredly, rubbing at my eyes. I looked to the window where only a sliver of sun was rising over the horizon. "Too early," I grumble, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders. "Come back to bed." I lift the blankets for him, inviting him back into the warm embrace of his mattress but he only chuckles. "I've got a mission." He hums, reaching over and brushing a strand of hair behind my pointed ear. I grab his gloved hand and intertwine our fingers. "Where?" I glance up at him and then down to the mesmerizing siphon on the back of his palm. "Spring court, another meeting with Eris." He sighed and I nodded, tracing my finger around the cobalt gem. "Be safe." I slip my hand from his. "I'll still be in bed when you return." I hum with a cheeky smile and he frowns.

"No goodbye kiss then?" He tilts his head I scoff and gaze up at him, only to realize he's staring straight at me without so much as a hint of amusement on his face. "Oh, you're serious?" I arch a brow. "What if a beast attacks me on my way back?" He gasps theatrically and I roll my eyes before reaching up and grabbing him by the collar, tugging him down. "Shut up you drama queen." I giggle before placing a kiss on the corner of his lips— much closer than I aimed for but my delirium due to exhaustion seemed to take control. "I'll see you when you get home," I murmur as I back away and lie my head back down. "Right, home." He nods, slightly stunned before backing away towards the door.

I flip around to avoid watching him leave and wait until I hear the door click shut. Only then do I allow myself to let out a long sigh, then scream into the pillows, cheeks heating as I curse myself for kissing so damned close to his lips. Azriel and I have been giving each other kisses on the cheek since we were little but this— this was different.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"It was my first time going out with a female and yes, it was just Rita's— but I don't know, I got nervous." Mor ranted as she told me about her date with Emerie. "Mor, there's no need to stress. Emerie is one of the sweetest people I know, I doubt you scared her off." I reassure. "Really?" She looked to me hopelessly and I gave her a soft smile. "I guarantee she hasn't shut up about it all training. I could ask Nesta for the details if you'd like?" I arch a brow. "No!" Mor's palms come down onto the counter with urgency and I startle. She quickly retracts her hands and crosses her arms. "Sorry, just tense about all this." She muttered. I wave her off. "But enough about my love life; I heard you woke up in Azriel's bed this morning?" A knowing grin etched across her dazzling features and I flush. "It wasn't like that." I shake my head, looking down at the sketch in my notepad, we were making a list of where Mor could take Emerie on their next date but I got distracted and started doodling while she told me about her first date.

"If it's not like that, then why are you drawing him over and over again?" Mor leans over to peer down at the paper. My eyes snap down and I notice how all of the portraits were in fact of Azriel. Every single one. Gods, I was embarrassing.

I tore the paper from the notepad and crumpled it up before tossing it in the trash. "Hey! Those were good." Mor pouts. "Those looked nothing like him." I cross my arms.

I've tried to draw Azriel a multitude of times, but something was always off. How do you draw someone so perfect? It seemed utterly impossible. I couldn't even get his eyes right. His perfect hazel eyes—"Hey," Mor snaps her fingers in front of my face and I jump, looking up at her. "You're daydreaming again." She hums and I roll my eyes, closing my sketchbook and placing my pencil down. "Tell me about him." She props her elbows onto the counter and leans into her hands. "I know you want to." She gives me a smirk and she wasn't wrong.

"There's nothing to tell," I say evasively, if I talk about him I face my desires and I wasn't interested in taking my feelings for Azriel anywhere past a crush.

"Oh please, you guys have been ogling at each other since before our hundreds," She looks at me pointedly and I shrug. "I can't understand why you don't just confess," She slides into the barstool next to me. "He doesn't see me like that," I mutter and she deadpans, wondering if I was serious or not. "Don't be ridiculous, it's obvious from the way he looks at you." She hums and I perk up. "How does he look at me?" My eyebrows twitch together.

"Like you're everything." She smiles, leaning back into her chair. "No. We're just friends." I wave her off. "I'm not ruining a friendship because of the way he looks at me." I mock and she groans, flopping onto the counter dramatically. "Just confess already, what's the worst that'll happen?" She sighs.

"He’s so repulsed by even the idea that he never speaks to me again, instead he goes to Rhys and manages to get me kicked out of Velaris where I'll never be able to see any of you ever again." I rant in an all too quick tone. Mor just marvels at me. "You've thought a lot about this," She whistled lowly and I nodded. "I would've confessed a long time ago if I thought it a good idea," I murmur and her eyes widen with a new plan. "What if you don't have to confess." She sits up. "I already don't." I stare at her blankly. "But what if we can get him to confess." She raises her brows tauntingly.

"That won't work." I scoff. She gives me a dedicated smile. "Azriel is the most protective male I know, even more so than Rhys, if you tell him you take an interest in someone he'll have to confess." She reasons. "No, he'll say he's happy for me while he's drowning in his own self-pity," I argue and she clamps her mouth shut because she knows I'm right. "What if it's someone he doesn't like?" She arches a brow and I sit up, intrigued. "When Nesta danced with Eris, Cassian was ready to rip his head off." Mor hums. "You want me to make him jealous by talking about Eris?" I look at her with creased brows. "That's exactly what I want." Mor hums. I look to Feyre who's sat at the couch, staring at me like this is the best entertainment she's gotten in weeks.

"Fine," I hum and Mor squeals while Feyre claps her hands excitedly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"C'mon Az, of course she likes you back." Cassian grumbles during the journey back to the House of Mist. Azriel could've winnowed them but thought it'd be nice to fly with his brother. He wouldn't have taken Cassian up on the offer if he knew he'd start interrogating him.

"I already told you, I'm not talking about this with you." Azriel reminded and Cassian dramatically groaned. "Well, I'm talking to you." Cassian defended. "I think you should confess—" Cassian begins before getting gusted with a particularly strong wind from the flap of a wing, Azriel leaving him in the dust as he shot forward.

"Gods, you're childish," Cassian grumbled before quickly catching up with his brother.

"Avoiding your problems won't help you!" Cassian called and the shadow singer didn't so much as glance at him. "I'm just saying you ought to confess before she gets swooped up by someone else," Cassian explains and Azriel's wings stutter at the idea.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The shadow singer's head whipped towards his brother, who only shrugged. "She'll get bored if you keep dragging her on like this." Cassian hummed like he knew all the answers to the universe. "No one is going to swoop her up." Azriel scoffed but held some determination in his tone, like this is now his mission. "Sure they won't." Cassian droned before dipping down towards the House.

"Do you think someone will?" Azriel chased him, quick to follow the male. "If I say yes will you be that someone?" Cassian presumes and Azriel pales, sealing his lips. Their conversation is cut short as Cassian dives down and lands on the platform of House of Mist. Azriel quickly follows to do the same.

I was in the dining room with Nesta, the both of us reading our separate books as we sat in front of our untouched plates. The two Illyrians came into the room with a volume I hadn't expected. Nesta rolled her eyes and continued flipping through her book while I marked my page and shut the novel, my eyes going over to the blue-siphoned male.

"Hey," I smile at both of them but only Cassian replies with his greeting. "I made dinner, it's on the counter," I say and Cassian swiveled on his heel and beelined for the kitchen. "You're a savior," The lord of bloodshed voiced as he passed by you, then Nesta, and kissed her on the crown of her head.

Azriel approached me, bending down and placing a kiss on my cheek. I smile and look up at him as he analyzes the book in my lap.

"Another romance?" He arches a brow, I shrug innocently. "It's more than just a romance," I argue and he shakes his head lightly. "You're right, it's also pure smut." Azriel hummed as he flipped through the pages and I slammed down the cover onto the table, Nesta made a hum of amusement but didn't say anything. "You could learn a lot from these books," I say matter-of-factly and he looked at me curiously, standing to his full height over me. I blink up at him as he leans his hip on the high table and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Like how to get a girlfriend." I intone and he rolls his eyes with a scoff. "Or how to correctly pleasure a female," I add and he arches a brow at me, Illyrian pride coursing through him. "You think I don't know how to pleasure a female?" Azriel said coolly, Nesta nearly spat out her water. "I think you're cocky for a fumbling bat." I quip and a vicious smile curves his lips before he leans down and kisses my jaw. "I better get to reading then." He purrs deathly close to my ear before leaving the room.

Nesta looked at me wide-eyed like I'd gone insane. "Have you two fucked?" She whispers as soon as he leaves the room and I shake my head no, a pink tinge staining my cheeks.

"Not yet." Nesta chuckled as she fanned herself with her book dramatically. I giggled and dug into my meal. "How's training been going?" I ask and she sets her book down, deciding to pick up her fork as well. "It'd be better if Emerie would shut up about Mor for five seconds," Nesta grumbled as she stabbed a piece of meat particularly hard. "Why did we think it'd be a good idea to set them up?" She sighed and I smiled, happy that the two girls were equally obsessed with each other.

"I miss you guys," I frown. "I should start coming to training again." I mutter and she gives me a small smile. "I'd like that."

Azriel didn't come to dinner, perhaps made himself a plate then did find a Sellyn Drake novel to read. Knowing the bastard, I knew he would. Cassian however did come trudging in with a giant plate filled with the food I made, some of his favorites. Every bite had him groaning, Nesta kicking him beneath the table at the excessive noise so I took that as my queue to leave.

I collected my dishes and dumped them into the sink before padding down the hall and breezing by Azriel's room, peaking my head in but he wasn't to be found.

"Snooping?" A voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the quiet spymaster. "Stop doing that." I place a hand on my rapid heartbeat and he smiles at me proudly. "It scares you, every time." He brushes past me into his room and I follow. "And it stopped being funny the first time," I grumble, closing the door of his bedroom behind me.

He took a seat at his desk, most likely to finish up some paperwork so I slid into his bed, looking out at the window as I picked at my nails, watching the flow of the sidra from so many feet above. Lying on my stomach and swaying my feet back and forth with a soft hum, shadows swirling around me to the tune.

I spot the pleasure hall along the river bank, its dark lights beaming its sign. "I want to go to Rita's" I mutter and he turns in his stool to look at me. "Whys that?" He asks and I flip onto my back, sitting up to face him. "I want to have fun." I shrug. Was I seriously going to try and get him to confess now? "Fun," He verbalizes like he's never heard the word before. "I haven't been with a male in a while, Az." I sigh. A long while.

"Well, none of those guys are worth your time." Azriel hummed, turning back around and returning to his work. "Then who is?" I prod, hoping he'd say him, praying he'd just admit how he felt. "I don't know, someone of higher propriety." He shrugs, I get up from the bed and walk over to his deskside.

What I was about to say next would end our friendship, for the worse or the better. "Someone like Eris?" I ask, hoping he couldn't hear how fast my heart rate was picking up. His writing halts and he freezes.

"What?" He looks up at me with pure confusion.

"Eris has a higher propriety, and he's more than interested." I hum. "Are you?" His brows crease. "Interested?" He adds and I smirk. "Would that bother you?" I tilt my head. "No, I just— I think you could find better people to kiss." He evaded and I suppressed a sigh. Why couldn't he confess, just say what he truly wants? He couldn't seem to read my hypocritical thoughts.

"I'm sorry Az I'll make sure to come to you before dropping my panties" I joke but he seems to take it all too personally. "that's not what I meant. I just—" He cuts himself off from saying something he'd regret. "You just what?" I narrow my eyes at him. He looks at me with tight lips like he knows what I'm trying to do. "Spit it out." I prompt with a taunting smile.

"I just don't want you crawling back to me when he's done using you." He finally admitted and my smile faltered.

"Crawling back to you? What am I some kind of burden?" I scoffed at him, I wasn't acting anymore. "No, love I didn't mean it like that—" He reaches for my wrist but I jolt back. "How else could you have meant it?" I mutter, my brows tense as my eyes begin to burn with tears. "I just don't want you to get hurt by someone you think loves you." He tries to explain.

"Too late," I murmur before exiting his room and going right into my room, he chases after me but I slam my door closed, shutting him out.

I lean back against my door, a shaky sigh racking through me as I wait for his footsteps to recede to his room. He doesn't take long, cursing himself before leaving the hall and slamming his own door shut. I release a soft breath and drag my feet to my bed, plopping down onto the mattress in defeat.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, silent tears slipped down my cheeks and I didn't bother wiping them away, just let them drip down onto my pillow. I don't want you crawling back to me. A shudder runs through me at the voice in my head and I tuck tighter into a ball, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders. And even if I was mad at him, I couldn't help but wish I was in his warm bed instead of my cold one.

__________

The next few days were quiet. I hadn't realized how much Azriel was weaved into my daily routine until I started going out of my way to avoid him. Luckily he left for a mission halfway through the afternoon, which relieved me. Still, it felt wrong not to wish him good luck with a kiss on the cheek, not to even spare him a glance as he left.

I haven't stopped thinking about what he said, a different emotion consuming me each time I thought about it again. Usually, it was anger, but sometimes remorse for even pushing his buttons in the first place. I don't even want Eris yet I knew it'd make him mad, I wanted to see him jealous, anything to show that he wanted me and that this wasn't one-sided. I suppose I got what I wanted in the end.

It was sunset now and all I've done today was read through an entire novel to distract myself from my real issues. So I sat on my bed and watched through my windows, the wind howled as clouds rolled over the stars. I suppressed a sigh as I realized a storm would be coming tonight. Azriel isn't home yet, and as much as I wanted to avoid him, I also found myself hoping he got back before it started to rain.

I shifted up to my pillows, perhaps I could find sleep before the thunder began, hoping I would dream through it, I pulled the blankets up to my neck and allowed my bones to sink into the mattress. No tears came tonight but I wasn't hurt by Azriel's words any longer, just mourning the loss of his conversation, his touch, or even his presence at all.

I managed to slip into a light slumber, exhausted from all too much thinking.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Thunder boomed and I jerked upright, my fingers clenching the sheets as my breath began to quicken. Another ear-shrieking crack. I shudder, holding back a gasp and clasping my shaky hand over my mouth. I close my eyes and pray for the storm to go away. Another flash of light outside my window and I'm quick to press my palms to my ears, it does little to shut out the noise but at least I knew it was coming.

I wasn't going to be able to sleep now that I'd already gotten a few hours. I hoped Azriel got home safely, that he didn't get stranded halfway through the storm and had to seek shelter in an unknown court. I wished he was at my door, that he'd be there ready to comfort me if I needed him. But I knew better than to have false hope.

The whole point of all this was to avoid ruining our friendship, but now I'm sitting here with my hands to my ears and a broken friendship.

I perk up, the realization hits that there was no point in avoiding my feelings and that our friendship was already ruined. If we're going to never speak to each other again I'd rather know than stay in the dark.

Before I can talk myself out of it I slip from my sheets, jumping slightly as another loud crash sounds outside my window. I get to the door but as soon as my hand rests on the handle a knock sounds, a specific knock I recognize as only one person. I freeze. Dread fills me. I understood I was just on the way to see him but now he was outside my door and suddenly I was thinking again, talking myself out of opening this door.

I contemplate my options, fingers pressed to my lips as I remain utterly quiet. A loud crack has a small gasp leaving my lips and there's no way he didn't hear it. So I'm forced to open the door. I don't dwell on my choices and quickly swing the door open, looking up at him and clenching the hem of my nightgown in my fist, fiddling with it in anxiety.

His brows are drawn and his lips seem to be in a permanent frown, bags under his eyes as evidence of his lack of sleep. "I'm sorry." He says through a breath he seemed to be holding. "What I said was inexcusable, I just was so upset at the thought of you being with someone else." He admits, then suddenly clamps his mouth shut like even he didn't expect himself to say that."No, I'm sorry." I shake my head. His brows knit together in confusion.

"What could you be sorry for?" He frowns. "I don't want Eris I just, I was trying to make you jealous," I confess. His eyes soften, and then he releases a light, solemn chuckle. "I'm sorry for something else too," I fiddle with the doorknob and he tilts his head inquisitively. "What's that?" He asks. I rise onto my toes and cup his jaw before pressing my lips to his. I backed away as quickly as I came. He blinks at me, utterly shocked.

"Sorry for not doing that sooner." I profess and then his gaze turns into something much softer. He steps forward, past the threshold of my room, his large hands coming to my neck and waist as he pulls me towards him, his lips catching mine and I melt into him.

The kiss is everything I dreamed of like electric shocks running from the tips of my fingers to my toes. He leaned down, kissing me deeper, he needed more. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. He smiles against my lips at the action and I can't help but mirror the expression.

"Fuck, I missed you." He hummed and I giggled, pecking his lips between words, just because I could.

"I missed you too." I grin wildly, then jolt when a bolt of thunder strikes down. His arms wrap around me tighter and I press my chest to his, the warmth more comforting than anything else. "Want to sleep in my room tonight?" He arches a brow and I smile up at him, then nod with a bright expression. He mirrors my features, his dimples creasing his cheeks and I marvel at the sight. He picks me up from under my thighs and my legs wrap around his torso.

I peck a line of kisses up his jaw as he carries me through the hallway and into his room, leaning back against it to shut it. I hum mindlessly before kissing his lips again, drunk on the taste of them. Wanting to do it all the time now that I had the option. I backed away, looking at him as he stared at me in an utter daze, a soft smile on his face as he observed my every move. "You're so pretty." I admire, brushing a finger across his cheekbone. "I was just thinking the same thing about you." He looks into my eyes and I flush, then his eyes flick back down to my lips and I take the hint, coming closer and resting my mouth against his once more, slotting to him like two ends of a puzzle, savoring the feel as he filled every empty pit and crevice of desperation inside of me.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I awoke with bleary vision, squinting my eyes open and resting them upon the sunrise outside. Dawn creeps over the mountains in pink and purple hues. A weight rests along my waist, tugging me closer unconsciously until I'm pressed up against a familiar chest. I smile wildly as I remember the events of last night and flip around to look up at a half-awake Azriel.

"Morning, love." He hums, I've heard the deep tone of his morning voice hundreds of times before but none of those compared to this moment. "G'morning." I look up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning forward, and pressing a gentle kiss to his sensuous lips. "I could get used to this." He mumbled and I backed away with a chuckle, snuggling into his chest and releasing a soft sigh.

He rolls over onto his back, his wings adjusting beneath me as he pulls me up on top of his chest. "Do you have any missions today?" I ask him, propping my head up on his sternum as he looks down at me through his lashes. "My schedule is clear." He informs, fingers tracing up and down from my waist to my hips, spanning the distance with his large scarred hands.

"Just for me?" I teased with a head tilt and he nodded. "Just for you." He confirms before I settle my lips back onto his, gods I couldn't get enough of how perfect it felt like we were two sides of a magnet meant to be pressed together, couldn’t be torn apart without the utmost force.

The door to the bedroom opens and shadows swirl around us. "Hey Az do you—" Cassian begins as he invites himself into the room. "How many times do I have to tell you to knock Cassian!" Azriel shouted at his brother, throwing a pillow at him. The general caught it with ease, his eyes practically glowing with excitement.

"I'm not sorry." Cassian proudly shakes his head. "We could've been fucking." Azriel mutters sourly, his wings coming to wrap around me. I was only in my nightgown, nothing Cass hadn't seen before but now that Azriel had the right to be overprotective he was going to use it.

"You say that like we didn't use to fuck different girls in the same room when we were in Windhaven." Cassian reminds him pointedly, another pillow is thrown at him and I giggle because this time it actually hits him.

"What do you want?" Azriel demands, eager to return to kissing. "Do you have any bandaids? I have a paper cut." He held up his pinky which had a small nick in it. I tilt my head at him, confused as to how some of the greatest warriors couldn't lay a finger on him yet here he stood defeated by a paper cut.

"In the bathroom cabinet under the sink." Azriel waves him off, shadows guiding the male to the door as he flips the both of us over, his hips coming to rest between my thighs, his head stuffed into my chest. "Have fun you two!" Cassian calls and I snicker as shadows slam the door closed on him.

"Bastard," Azriel grumbles into my breasts and I look down at him with an amused look. My hands go into his hair, pulling his head back to look at me. His hands trace incoherent shapes on my thighs, his gaze catching mine. "What are we?" He asks and I grin down at him. "Friends." I taunt.

"Friends don't kiss." He shakes his head, leaning down and pressing his lips onto mine.

"I'm only kidding." My hands come up to his cheeks, thumbs rubbing his sharp cheekbones as he stills a mere centimeter away. "I've been reading those romance books," He admits. "Oh really?" I arch a brow and he nods. "I think I learned how to get a girlfriend." He admits and I smile at the recall. "Did you learn how to properly pleasure a female too?" I taunt, coiling my fingers in his hair as he watches me attentively before replying, "Would you like to find out?"

Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories

@lees-chaotic-brain @mell-bell

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #acomaf #request #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #fem reader #reader insert #fluff #writing #suriels tea #bat boys

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josephquinnswhore · 10 months

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Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

#Joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #angst #the last of us #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #soft joel miller

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ghostdrinkssoup · 1 year

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something I find really interesting about hannibal’s character is how he uses people’s expectations and ingrained assumptions to hide himself. no one suspects he’s a serial killer because he doesn’t present as one. he’s elegant and refined and isn’t cruel to animals. he’s highly sophisticated, a polyglot and has a deep admiration for beauty and life. he appreciates saving lives just as much as he appreciates ending them. in fact, this particular aspect of his character is partly why it takes will the entirety of s1 to accept hannibal’s true nature. will saw hannibal save abigail and accompany her to the hospital in apéritif and he also saw hannibal save a man’s life by performing emergency surgery and taking over the operation at the end of sorbet.

this moment in particular is interesting because of how it’s framed to make hannibal look almost godly from will’s point of view:

1) hannibal is positioned immediately higher than will due to being in the ambulance, meaning will is looking up at hannibal, while hannibal is looking down on him

2) hannibal is standing under a bright light as he works to save this guy’s life, while will is standing in almost complete darkness

3) the usual orchestral, classical music is playing in the background, emphasising the apparent “holiness” of the act and framing hannibal as some sort of saviour

the impact of this scene is even more potent when considering the context of the rest of the episode, since will has already stated that the ripper is not the type to save people or enact mercy on anyone. his style of murders doesn’t suggest this characteristic whatsoever, and although will’s assessment is correct, hannibal’s personality and overall demeanour doesn’t match what we’d imagine a person like that might look like. I think will is confronted by this as well, because even if hannibal’s surgical skill means he matches the ripper’s profile (which makes him a valid suspect) his actions contradict will’s image of the ripper, while simultaneously affirming it:

it’s difficult to reconcile these facets of hannibal’s character. it’s inherently contradictory and defies our cultural expectations. nonetheless, hannibal’s inclination to save people is sometimes more insidious than his murders. he doesn’t save people out of altruism, he does it because he thinks he’s superior and enjoys deciding outcomes. he doesn’t view himself as insane, he views himself as god. this is most aptly explored in takiawase, through the acupuncturist/beekeeper killer. here we see a murderer who confesses that she killed a man to quiet his mind, and tells jack that it’s beautiful that she managed to protect him and her other patients. this is one side of hannibal’s character, the one who’s a doctor and therapist and sees death as a cure from disease, even if the ‘disease’ itself is literally just discourtesy. it’s ultimately an act of power.

and yet in this same episode he flips a coin and saves bella on a whim. this of course is framed to others as an act of mercy, however the reality is he took bella’s power away in an act disguised as kindness. once again, he hides in plain sight. this is the other side of his character, and it’s just as deadly.

it’s still about power.

but we don’t associate acts of mercy with monstrosity. when hannibal comforts abigail in trou normand we question whether he’s as bad as we think, because what negative connotations are tied to paternal tenderness? we miss that hannibal is fostering dependency, that he literally looks dead in the eyes as he holds her, and that he blatantly just told us that he’s using abigail to manipulate will:

hannibal often does this actually. he either directly says what he’s doing or suggests that he’s the culprit (often through cannibal puns, as we know) but no one ever interprets him correctly because doing so would contradict the image he’s carefully constructed for himself. it would cause too much dissonance.

and what’s fascinating is that on a subtextual level this is largely what the show is about. the story is an exploration of societal roles and the struggle to fit into stiff categorisation and expectations. will parallels hannibal in this regard because he’s desperately trying to repress his identity by taking on certain roles. and the audience is lured by this persona the same way the characters are lured by hannibal because will defies our understanding of certain tropes. on a genre level, will assumes the detective archetype, meaning we are primed to think he’s inherently good. when we see him say he wants to save people we believe him, even though he often only does so to prove to himself that he’s a good person. will is indeed righteous, a characteristic we often view positively, however he’s violent, wrathful and actively enjoys murder due to how powerful it makes him feel. he’s not dissimilar to hannibal, we just don’t see this straight away because doing so would disrupt our understanding of good and evil.

will hides the same way hannibal does, except will hides from us as well

#ghostie once again goes on a tangent #but it’s so !! I really love how the show fucks with everyone #and uses our expectations to do it #even on a narrative/genre level #the key to unveiling it is letting that conditioning and urge to categorise everything go #also wow I’m back to writing meta hello there #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #hannigram #hannibal meta #ghost speaks

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you have to find new ways to communicate when a cold leaves you voiceless. miguel is less than happy —featuring grumpy miguel and his cheerful spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 2.3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel's hackles hike as you appear. You have an obsession with toying with him and he's in the middle of something more important than your whims and wants.

"Don't start," he warns, barely looking at you.

You point at yourself as if to say, Who, me? Grinning, you pull your arms behind your torso tightly, your shoulders harsh slopes where they'd usually be lax with calm. Your spider suit strains against the movement, shining with a subtle shimmer as you twirl your way into his side. You blink up at him, mock-innocent.

"What did I just say?" he asks.

He's expecting a charming rebuttal he doesn't get. You're awfully charismatic; Miguel often thinks you've manufactured a devilish siren call that yanks him in like a fish on a line no matter how hard he tries to split his lip and flee.

You're pretty, sure, but it isn't your looks that endear you to him. You have this way of speaking that's effortlessly carefree, despite the frankly ridiculous depth of the well that is your fondness for the world. It shouldn't make sense, and it does: you're happy because you love the world. When you speak to him, annoy him, praise him and degrade him in the same breath, Miguel thinks you might love him, too.

You're silent. Miguel takes it as a blessing and finishes analysing the footage playing in front of him. He finishes as quickly as he can, and he's not a dick, he says, "Thank you." Then, with an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "Where have you been?"

You come to see him so often he kind of forgot you didn't have to. He's taken you for granted, he knows, and after three days of not seeing you he should be happier. He should've asked you about it as soon as you appeared.

You shrug and point at his screen. He can practically see the question mark in your eyes.

"That's nothing. What, you're not speaking to me now?" he asks.

Paper creaks in your hand as you pull a sketchbook from your pocket. Small, lilac, you flip to the first page and show him the scrawled message there with a rueful smile.

Miguel's expecting a cartoon version of himself, but instead you've written three words.

I have laryngitis.

Miguel's gaze flickers between you and your book, assessing the claim with scepticism. "Why would you have that? You're practically impervious to disease."

You flip to the next page.

Superbug from Earth-87222 defeated my enhanced healing.

One of your Peter Parker friends lives there. He isn't jealous (because he knows that particular Peter doesn't like girls). "And you can't talk?" he asks.

The next page. I can't talk.

You tuck the book to your chest. Lips parted, you attempt to speak, but all that comes out is hot air and a cruel croaking scratch that makes his chest ache.

"Don't hurt yourself," he says, softer than he'd been speaking beforehand. He can't decide whether to glare at you or pull you in for a hug. If he hugs you, you might attach yourself to him like that thing from Alien. He glares. "You could've told me."

You gesture to your throat. I can't speak.

"That you were sick, you know how to type. You bother me every day for weeks and then one day you stop showing up, and you don't answer your watch, what am I supposed to think?"

You stare up at him dreamily. He swears you get off on being scolded half the time.

Miguel takes your wrist into his hand and turns your wristband forward to showcase the screen. "You see this? You see when my prompt comes up? You could take ten seconds and hit me back."

Again, you open your small sketchbook, turning to a fourth page. You've predicted him well.

I didn't want to worry you. Don't be mad, handsome, you'll get more wrinkles.

"Tu sabes todo," he fumes. You know everything. "If you're so smart, you can help me recalibrate the pocket dimension storage."

You flip a page. It's finally a drawing rather than a knowing line, your familiar artistry obvious in your weighted linework and rushed shading. It's Miguel, his expression one he isn't sure you would've actually seen to reference as well as you have, lovingly concerned with a speech bubble coming from beside his softly rendered hair. Get well soon, cariño.

He scoffs. "You seem fine to me."

In truth, you don't seem fine. Now he knows, he can see evidence of your days away. Your lips are chapped under the balm you've applied, your hair dishevelled (though it's often unruly, in line with your personality). You wince when you breathe too hard. Miguel lowers the platform and sets you up next to him on a workbench in the back of the laboratory beside him for purely professional purposes. He has to make sure you're doing the calibration correctly, that's all.

He can't quite explain away the tea he gets for you from the cafeteria, nor the research he does on the way back to you, Lyla at his shoulder saying, "You're such a softie."

You find you don't need the sketchbook to communicate. Miguel places your tea down and your smile alone is thanks enough. It's pure reverential delight. He doesn't really deserve it, so he pretends he doesn't see.

When you need help with a recalibration, you take his wrist gently. You don't even need to point at the screen, the subtle uptilt of your brows enough clue.

"Here, you're almost there," he murmurs under his breath, distracted by the complicated code you've been editing in the corner of the screen. "Oh, is this what you do when I'm not looking?"

You tug his elbow.

"No? You're not messing around?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm stupid."

Your fingers tighten. Miguel clicks a couple of things to finish the calibration. He looks at you from over his shoulder. Your face is near. It radiates heat. He bites the tip of his gloved finger and yanks it off clean to press the back of his naked hand to your forehead.

"You're warm," he says, patting carefully downward. Your skin is as hot as he'd worried.

Miguel drops his hand without rush, the side of his pinky tracing down your cheek. "Maybe you shouldn't be here."

You shake your head vehemently. There's something in it he doesn't understand, an uncharacteristic shyness. He supposes he'd feel the same if he were sick like this, but you have no reason to be ashamed of a bad cold.

"Enough calibration, then. Take it easy."

You do not take it easy. Your first port of call is to request to share his screen. He grants you permission and rescinds it soon after, irked when the majority of his monitor becomes wallpapered by digital post it note drawings of him looking cranky and of you in a crown, a ship's captain's hat, standing on the moon. He sets them each back to the perimeter of his window and tries to work. Trust you to find ways to bother him without teasing aloud.

He thinks that… but then, his hands falter over the keyboard. You aren't a bother. You irritate him but he kind of likes it, most of the time. He turns his head just enough to see your face, blue and white light kissing your skin. You glow.

Miguel thinks about how he used to do this alone. Lyla on his shoulder when she felt like it but usually tinkering in the quiet, trying to stop the end of the world, the pressure akin to how Atlas himself must have felt, knees locked and arms braced above his head to stop the Earth falling into the black abyss. Miguel doesn't always know what he's being punished for (or, he didn't). He doesn't know why this ended up on his plate, but the panic of doing it alone ebbs every day. With you by his side, unshakeable if not unfailing, it feels less like a death sentence and more like a problem that needs solving. He can't save everyone, but he can try. He can't stomach the agony of his life if he thinks about the past; you make it easy to stay present.

Who would he rather have here than you? Out of everyone living that he knows, you're the only person he could stand to sit with for this long.

It's not the same without your voice. Your murmurings, your kind doting, your put upon and less-so confusion. He misses it more than he can say in that moment, worse when you feel his eyes and turn to face him with a soft smile.

Everything okay? you ask without asking.

You don't need to speak. He can see it on your face.

Miguel gets up from his bench to tower over you. Without giving it too much thought, he bends down, wrapping his right arm behind your shoulders, the left loose over your front, and kisses your forehead with the barest of pressures. It's hardly a kiss at all, and it makes no noise. More like he's resting his lips there, his nose at your hairline, breathing in. His hand rubs an up and down of its own accord into your upper arm, the soft fat of it melding under his touch.

Your head dips back invitingly. You're like butter in the sun at his touch, a slow melting.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll deny it," he says quietly.

You snort. You give his arm a pat and reach over it to grab your sketchbook. Miguel straightens but doesn't remove his arms, watching as you flick to the right page.

I can't talk, the page says. You beam at him.

"I see," Miguel says. "You think it's funny because you couldn't tell if you wanted to."

Your answering hum comes with the feeling of your fingers latching onto his elbow. Exactly.

Well, fuck it. If you can't tell anyone, Miguel might as well send it. He leans down to grab you up into his hold, a squeezing hug that says everything he wanted to tell you while you were gone, his worry for you and his annoyance at your lack of communication. You don't need audible words to tell him things, and Miguel doesn't need words either. Hopefully his arms around you and his nose digging too rough into your temple says how he feels plainly.

"I figured you got sick of taking orders," he confesses. You got sick of me. "When you didn't come back."

You refuse to act small —Miguel doesn't want you to—, standing despite the weight he'd been resting on you, turning in the circle of his arms to look up into his eyes. It's too much, Miguel doesn't want your face this close to his, not with the rawness of his feelings aching a trail up between each of his rib bones, one by one. He clenches his jaw.

Your hand climbs to his ear. He stays very still. As the initiator he should be forgiving, but your fingers touch his ear and he contemplates sinking his teeth into your hand. You stroke hair away from his face with a dramatised expression that says it's in the way, pesky stuff, though the final fond tuck of it behind the shell of his ear is impossible to deny.

Your thumb rubs his earlobe.

"Are you having fun?" he asks dryly.

Your nod is sincere. Enthusiastic, you start to ease your fingertips into the thick tresses of his hair.

Miguel grabs your wrist in an iron grip.

"Enough."

He guesses more than knows what your pout means —that isn't fair.

"Life isn't fair," he says, pressing your forearm to your chest, an action fraught with apology. It's ridiculous how much can be said without words. He'd like for you to get your voice back solely to end this confusing misery. Well, not solely… Miguel misses the sound of it, distinct as your lopsided smiles and unconventional hand movements. "You can file a complaint just as soon as you get your voice back, how's that?"

You roll your eyes and sit back down on your bench. Miguel takes a lap around the laboratory to calm down, returning to a new program blinking on computer his taskbar to be opened.

He doesn't give you the satisfaction of looking your way as he opens it.

"Miguel!" The program chirps, in a voice jarringly close to yours but not nearly as sophisticated as the majority of language intelligence he uses in his own coding. "I was waiting for you, handsome! Where have you been? Now you're back, I have a very special song to sing for you. Sing along if you know this one! Alright… Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety nine bottles of beer…"

Miguel realises he can't mute or close the program shortly thereafter. Vocaloid you counts down to sixty one bottles of beer by the time he resigns to turning off his computer altogether, a headache twinging angrily behind his eyes.

Maybe he could use a break from your voice after all.

You giggle breathlessly at him as he drops his face into his hands.

"Drink your tea," he orders, words muffled by his palms.

He doesn't look up. There's the sound of a big sip. Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He's kidding himself —the sooner you get your voice back, the better.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

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petrichorium · 1 year

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the merman is back.

it’s a little weird how used to him you’ve gotten. he’d only shown up for the first time a few months ago, but when you’re largely alone out on the boat or in your oceanfront lab there’s no shortage of ways for him to visit with nobody around.

he’s yet to tell you a name, but after the first few weeks of silence he suddenly revealed a passable understanding of english; when he speaks it's rudimentary, but he clearly understands everything you say, even if he doesn’t listen half the time.

you haven’t gotten the nerve to get in the water with him. in fact, you haven’t gotten in the water at all since he arrived, even when your colleagues are around and he’s notably not. he’s massive, his tail alone being well over two meters long and possessing the torso of a man who would tower over you on dry land (a handsome man, you're begrudged to admit, with those broad shoulders and blood red eyes and that ash blond hair that somehow looks good immediately coming out of the water). he’s assured you in his blunt, curt way that of course he doesn’t want to eat you but you still have anxieties about getting out into the open water you’ve always loved and being pulled under by a fucking sea monster.

he’s getting bolder, though. when you take the boat out today, he follows it, like the dolphins used to back when you operated out of the keys; that sleek black body would be terrifying just from the size, like seeing a fully grown orca bump up against the hull.

and when you weigh anchor, almost immediately, the boat keels aftward when he pulls himself onto the deck.

you shriek and he immediately pins you with a steely glare. he’s never done that before. it’s fucking terrifying, though he’s not managed to drag his whole body up and you’re a little comforted by that. it’s just his arms—two massive, heavily muscled things that are flexed and crossed in front of him, holding his head, shoulders, and much of his human-like torso up out of the water with ease. that enormous tail trails behind him and it’s still terrifying to see, your heart skipping a beat every time the shimmering orange markings catch your eye.

you don’t know what you’ll do if he decides to come all the way onto the boat. he wouldn’t be able to maneuver that well, but where the fuck would you go? into the damn water?

“fucking christ!” you yelp. “don’t just do that, motherfucker!”

“calm,” he snaps as he rolls his eyes.

the urge to flip him the bird is overshadowed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t understand, and you’re too frazzled to explain what go fuck yourself means. instead, you turn back around to clean up the cabin that he’s managed to mess up.

“oi, human, come.”

you huff, shouting your name at him and pointedly refusing to turn away from your task. he’s clearly annoyed at that, and you belatedly realize that perhaps if you’re really that terrified of him coming onto the boat you shouldn’t provoke him. luckily, rather than heaving himself up, he jerks the entire hull.

it’s a smooth motion for him, gripping the stern and rolling his tail so that the boat moves with him. it’s like being out in a storm, and though you’re well aware that it’s just your needy visitor, your sea-hardened stomach still lurches at the familiar feeling.

you stumble out of the cabin, careful not to be thrown over the edge. “i’m out! holy shit, i have a damn job you know, i can’t spend all my time catering to your whims.”

he stops as soon as you get back on deck. “calm,” he tells you again, and you're really starting to hate the word, “too loud.”

“who’s fucking fault is that? don’t rock my damn ship.”

“sit,” he demands rather than apologizing.

there are a plethora of reasons not to. you won’t be able to get away quickly if you need to, you shouldn’t be encouraging his demands by obliging immediately, you really do have a job to do instead of… whatever this is—instead of listening to any one of those reasons, you ease yourself down with your legs crossed a little ways away from where he’s holding himself.

he snarls, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth. “closer.”

“no,” you snap. “not if you’re threatening me.”

his mouth shuts immediately, brow furrowed and lips pouting in an expression that’s less pleading or apologetic and more contemplative.

“not a threat,” he seems to settle on saying.

you roll your own eyes. “yeah. okay.”

“come here.”

“why?”

“wanna feel you.”

that throws you for a loop. what could he mean by that? you realize that perhaps he’s as fascinated by you as you are by him.

you’ve caught him staring at your body in the past. he’s never reacted like you’d expect—if you’d caught a human looking at you like that and then turning away when you caught his eye, he’d have been checking you out. but when it’s an apex predator of a different species, there’s an entirely different context, one you’re even less enthused about.

you’re standing before you’ve fully thought it through, fully freaked and ready for him to go. you barely get to uncross your legs, however, before he lunges.

it’s far faster than your not-normally-hunted-because-you’re-a-modern-person mind can follow. a cold, clawed hand snaps out to latch around your ankle and yanks you downward, slamming your back into the boat’s coarse deck and then dragging you towards the edge. there’s not even time for you to shriek.

this is it, you think. he’s going to eat you now; he’ll drag you under and rip you apart, or maybe he’ll drown you first as a mercy. you hope he doesn’t want to play with you further, drag you into the water and let go to make you swim because he wants a chase.

the moment your ankle hits the water he stops.

you’re breathing heavily, free leg still braced on the deck, arms finding purchase on a pole nearby. his whole body is underwater aside from his eyes and the very top of his head, but you can still see that massive dark shadow—only little flashes of that pretty orange-gold patterning visible as his scales glint beneath the sun—and it sends a thrill through you. he’s so ungodly enormous.

that hand is still around your ankle, but it’s looser now. his mouth is beneath the waves so he doesn’t speak, but his eyes are soft and almost regretful as he regards you.

“okay…” you move slowly, getting to a better position. it pulls your captive ankle from the water and the movement causes his grip to tighten as if he’s reluctant to remove it—he doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t let you go. you’re forced to sit on the edge of the deck with your feet dangling over the side.

“let me feel you,” he tries again, as if he’s giving you a choice.

“ask,” you decide upon demanding. his words have made you realize, with a burst of shame and a promise to never tell anyone in the future, that you’re not entirely opposed to the strange rude merman feeling you.

you’re gifted a growl, not unlike the snarl from before but lacking the teeth. he’s learning, you realize, not only in not baring those terrifying weapons at you but also in removing his hand from your ankle.

“can i… touch you,” he spits out, like the words and your request are insulting.

and again you think there are far too many reasons to give in just like that. you’ve been around enough children to know that rewarding problematic behavior is hardly the way forward, but there’s a certain part of your brain that’s in control right now and it’s not particularly interested in breaking him of his demanding attitude (quite the contrary, to your chagrin, this very annoying part of your brain is enjoying it).

“are you sure you’re not going to eat me?”

“no eating.” he huffs, wrinkling his nose.

“what, i smell bad or something.”

he regards you, approaching a little closer, and you resist the urge to pull your legs up to hold your knees to your chest.

“smell good,” he says, “not like food.”

all right.

“fine, then. if you’re not going to take a bite out of my calf, then… sure. feel me, i guess.”

he’s just as fast as before, not even waiting for you to finish your sentence before he’s lashing out and grabbing your leg again. this time, he’s not looking at your face; he’s focused entirely on your feet, those big hands inspecting them thoroughly.

it’s rough, and you’re a little glad because if he’d been gentle it would have likely been too ticklish. he’s still careful with his massive claws; you’re sure they’re sharp enough to pierce your skin with ease, and he’s clearly skilled enough to avoid it. you’re more than thankful, because you’ve seen how he hunts with them (he’s dropped disemboweled fish in front of you before as strange gifts) and you don’t want your legs to end up like his prey even if he doesn’t eat you.

he moves on from your feet, both hands latching onto one calf and almost massaging it in reverence. his face is even closer now; you really ought to be more worried by the proximity of those teeth to your skin, but the fascination on his face is so enthralling.

by the time he reaches the back of your knee, you're tensing. while before he’d been mostly in the water, he’s very nearly at your height now, holding himself up by his grip on you and an awkward hold on the deck with his spare hand.

and then he’s at your thigh, and your breath is heavy.

because he’s basically laid out on your lap, one arm wrapped entirely around your upper leg such that his large palm rests flush, fingers spread, against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. and he’s no less fascinated, expression no less sincere, as he pulls further up to get closer.

“warm,” he says, more to himself than you. he blinks, as if shaking away a daze, and his eyes jump up from your thighs to look at your stomach. “soft…”

his head drops. you jump, caught up in the strange haze he's brought with him but snapping out of it as he lays his head on your lap. your heart thumps erratically, your breath long bated. he’s not looking at your thigh anymore, and not your face either—he’s locked on your stomach, your loose t-shirt having ridden up slightly to reveal more bare skin.

you ought to see it coming, really, but when that big, cold hand moves from your thigh to your torso, sliding smoothly beneath your shirt and running up your bare stomach, you yelp and jolt back.

he startles, and then he’s gone, slipping back off you and disappearing down into the murky water. you’re left panting, with nothing but a very wet body and the ghost of his touch on your legs…

and the heat of your face at the knowledge that, while you’d been surprised, you kind of wanted him to go further.

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #mine.🌧#char.🌧 bakugou #that one beach episode #just a lil merbaku 👉👈#for the soul #w a spitfire reader bc im me JHSBDF #this is reposted!!! i wrote it like two yrs ago for jotato kujo lmfaoooooo but rewrote it for bakugo who tbh i think it works for even bett #but the og is still up on my ao3 so

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adiluv · 8 months

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✦ : ❝ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which the cold isn't as bad as he'd originally believed. 738 words.

꒰warnings꒱ soft-yandere scaramouche, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ honestly a bit too tired to try and come up with something interesting/funny to put here, so just imagine that i said something really captivating instead! ♡ hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀིㅅ´ ˘ `꒱ྀི১

Scaramouche, in the many centuries of his existence, has never once considered himself a fan of the winter. Or, as he's found himself being corrected at an increasingly alarming rate, he hadn't. At least not before you decided to worm your way into his life.

It's embarrassing, really. Humiliating, if he was being entirely honest. Pathetic, even, that he would ever allow himself to bend so readily to the whims of a mere mortal, especially one as blatantly naïve and idiotic as yourself.

He should have you killed for it. Would, too, if the mere thought of watching his underlings throwing your lifeless body into the creek right behind your ramshackle cottage didn't stir up the strangest sensation of discomfort within his hollow chest.

... You've got the man absolutely whipped for you, to be truthful, though it's hardly even the worst part of his little dilemma. Couldn't be anywhere near it, really, when you knew of his feelings towards you, understood them, reciprocated them—dissipating the storms brewing within his very being with a mere glance in his direction. You're more than comfortable with the situation you've found yourself in, and that much is clear, a fact that elicits both distress and elation from the ever-feared Balladeer.

He finds that he's become more prone to the latter, as of late.

Your lips were soft whenever you kissed him. Your grip was gentle whenever you pulled his body towards you, though the entryway of your cramped home, into your arms ꒰where he rightfully belongs, he's sure꒱ whenever he'd return to visit after a particularly strenuous mission. Tender, and warm, a type of affection so faint that he feared even the most insignificant gust of wind would be enough to erase it from his body entirely.

But the winter, as he soon comes to find, changes that.

Although he'd much rather clamber onto the cold metal of Il Dottore's vivisection table than admit it out loud, it's truly impossible to deny just how comforting you are to hold, face buried into the crook of his neck as your form trembles beneath his fingertips. Your lips have become chapped, now, and he can feel just how dry they've become—tickling his synthetic skin alongside your shaky breaths, though he's come to find that he hardly even minds it.

You look adorable, truly, wrapped up within his luxurious fur coat, undignified whines escaping your lips whenever he taunts you with an attempt to push you away, force you to battle the freezing temperatures without the aid of his body heat, watch as you freeze up without the extra warmth he provides you. It's an honest miracle that you survived before meeting him, he teases, given the absolutely atrocious state of your abode's decaying walls, soothing circles rubbed onto your back as attempts to defend your childhood home die out on your tongue.

Scaramouche could have them fixed for you, if he so desired. Toyed around with the idea, even, flipped through reviews of some of the more reputable renovators he could find. And he will, he reassures you, pulling your weight atop his own ꒰a gesture more for his comfort than yours꒱, tangling his fingers into your hair, because he'd hate to have another human die on him—especially so when he's already allowed himself to become attached, again—and it's really only a matter of time until he's called away on another mission, and he's certain you won't be able to hold out much longer as things are.

... But there's no harm in enjoying your desperation, if only for the time being. Because you wouldn't be upset with him. Because you can't be, surely, when your love is so terribly addicting, entrancing him like a moth to a lamp. Because seeing you grab onto him with all of your strength, even if partially motivated by the desire to stave off frostbite, makes him feel wanted. Needed. A type of satisfaction that burns away his inhibitions, sears itself into his nonexistent heart.

Besides. Even if he were to miscalculate, and even if your home remained in poor condition by the time he's set to leave, it's not as though he'd ever actually leave you for dead. He's nice, like that. And you're dear to him, now, if those words even hold value for a puppet like himself.

... And he thinks you'd look much nicer, more in place, within the comfort of his estate.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche #the balladeer #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact drabbles #yandere genshin drabbles

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sc0tters · 10 months

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The Study Date | Adam Fantilli

summary: you and Adam have been on opposite ends of the table for months, but when Luca misses out on your study session things take an enjoyable turn for both of you.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature scenes, p in v, oral (fem receiving!), swearing.

word count: 2.27k

authors note: I’ve been trying to write like three pieces at the same time and haven’t been sure about any of them but I couldn’t get my mind off of this one… you girlies that wanted some Adam content here it is!

You swore the world was against you.

In November you had been assigned to tutor Luca, which was an easy task because he had turned into your new best friend.

The task that was harder was that since you had done such a good job with helping him join the top ten students of the class by January that you were now being assigned to help Adam out too.

Now that was complicated, if there was one person on this earth that you could kill it was him. Adam knew how to rile you up in ways that nobody else did which was fine because you did the same thing to him.

As much as Luca hated having you and his brother at odds but eventually he gave up trying because he didn’t have the energy having to sit through your sessions of tutoring as you paired whim with Adam.

Of course you couldn’t tutor Adam alone as you knew that you’d kill him thus leaving Luca in the chair between you both.

And that worked for you or at least it did until Luca decided to not show up one day “where the hell is he?” You groaned seeing that the older Fantilli was now twenty minutes late.

Adam rolled his eyes looking back at you “not coming,” he grumbled flipping his phone around to show you the text.

Luca: hey bro I can’t make it today, tell y/n I’m sorry!

Luca: also please don’t get yourself kill!

You wanted to reach through the phone to hurt his older brother instead “I should get going then,” you sighed shutting your laptop as you reached to grab your coffee.

The boy let out a grumble pulling your coffee away from you “c’mon stay for a bit!” He complained taking you by surprise “you got all dressed up for this anyways.” Adam trailed off making you sit right back in your seat.

A scoff left your lips “if you must know I’ve got a date later.” You crossed your arms leaning back in your chair.

It made Adam laugh how your forehead creased “who is the unlucky man?” His question was met with a kick on the leg from you.

There was the irritating Adam you had grown so familiar with “I’m not telling you.” Your head shook as you knew that he would never let you hear the end of it.

But you also smiled seeing the scowl on his face when you said you had a date “well clearly he doesn’t exist then,” Adam shrugged causing your face to scrunch up in anger “yes he does!” Your words were met with a shush from the on lookers as you rolled your eyes “then tell me who it is?” The hockey player rested his head on his hands.

You contemplated not letting him win “it’s Ethan.” You announced as the older boy had been flirting with you for weeks before he mustered up the balls to ask you.

Adam let your voice ring through his ears “you’re going to get eaten alive,” Adam laughed as he shook his head “look I get that you’re upset that he could fuck me better than you ever could but don’t make that my problem.” Your voice was laced with venom as you sent him a glare getting up to grab your things again.

Somehow you managed to push his buttons in that moment better than he ever did with you “don’t play with fire princess,” Adam mimicked your actions as he now towered over you “bet you couldn’t even make me come.” Your words barely got out of your mouth when his fingers pinched at your chin pulling you into a kiss.

It was messy, letting you melt as your hand reached up to slide between his shirt and his chest “your dorm or mine?” Adam pulled away letting your lip pull between his.

Thankfully your dorm was only two minutes away “mine.” You mumbled grabbing his hand as you locked your fingers in his.

The walk as short as it was it felt like an eternity “please tell me your roommate isn’t gonna be back for a while.” Adam muttered tucking your hair behind your ear as he shut your door pushing you further into your room.

You nodded letting out a giggle “she won’t be back until this evening,” you explained feeling grateful that she had band practice after her lecture.

His hands went to your waist as he pushed you to your bed “gonna take my time with you then.” Adam kissed your lips as he groaned letting his fingers graze the edge of your dress.

It made you roll your eyes “I’m still seeing Ethan,” you reminded him causing Adam to send you a glare “when I’m done you won’t even know his name.” The hockey players warning had you pressing your legs together as you tried to stop thinking about him like that.

The last person that you had slept with was in high school and he hadn’t even made you come “would like to see you try,” your words were like a knife that twisted in his chest “bout time you picked your words better.” Adam pushed you against your mattress letting your back bounce against your bed.

You gasped as he leaned down to kiss you again “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.” He mumbled letting his nose bump into yours as Adams fingers trailed down to your panties as he hoisted up your dress.

Adam smiled as he pulled the lacey material down your legs “looks like you wanted this baby.” The hockey player cooed kissing down your thigh making sure to give each one each amounts of attention.

His eyes were set on your face as he lowered his head down to the point where it hovered over your core “fuck Adam,” you groaned locking eyes with his as his breath fanned at your thighs “like it when you’re all needy.” Adam mumbled kissing your clit before he licked a stripe up your folds.

Before you knew it your had locked into his hair as you had never left these sensations before “so good,” you moaned using your other hand to pop the button at the front of your dress.

It was everything Adam needed to hear when he wrapped his hands around your thighs pulling you even closer to him “don’t stop,” you brought your hips up as you rode his face.

The hockey player moved his thumb to your clit so he could talk to you “such pretty noises baby,” Adam muttered smirking as your hand pushed him back down to continue sucking at your clit.

Part of you thought that Adam was a starved man with the way he was slurping at your juices “all for you,” a whimper left your lips as your head dug deeper in your mattress.

Adam had to admit that the moans that let out made his pants tight “I’m gonna come,” you announced feeling his fingers slip into your pussy giving you something to clench around.

He smiled as his thumb went back to your clit as the hockey player pushed himself closer to you “thought you said you weren’t gonna come.” Adam let his lips hover over yours as you tried to push forward to kiss him “don’t make me beg.” You whimpered hearing the boy laugh.

The hockey player smiled “but I like hearing those noises.” His lips formed a pout before he accepted your wish kissing your lips.

Your juices tasted salty on his tongue letting Adam get carried away “shit,” your voice was muffled between his lips reminding him of what he was doing “let it all go for me baby.” Adams words rang through your ears and the second his tongue hit your clit you reached your high.

You legs shook as the Fantilli boy didn’t let his tongue stop “Fanti no,” you groaned trying to pull his head away from your thighs.

He shook his head as he let out a grunt having the vibrations shoot through your body “no baby,” Adam mumbled looking up at you “you wanna act all strong until you see how good I make you feel?” You didn’t respond as your eyes fluttered feeling this bliss as his fingers were still inside of you.

Squelching noises bounced off of your dorms walls “now you gotta take it like a good girl.” His warning rang through your ears as he went back down acting like you were his last meal.

Your body melted into the sheets as you hadn’t even gotten over the first orgasm “enough,” you begged using all of your power trying to pull him up.

As much as Adam wanted to have you shaking, legs dripping, he couldn’t wait any longer “feeling good baby?” Adam asked coming closer to your face “you got any condoms?” He added smiling as you just pointed to the cabinet on your roommates side of the room.

The hockey player laughed looking to see that it was fully stocked with condoms of all different sizes “she said I could use them when I want to,” you explained cheeks turning red as your roommate was the one who was always busy.

Adam grabbed the condom of his choice before he came back over to you “want to do the honours?” He held the silver packet out for you to grab “think this might be a little bit big for you.” You teased as the boy pulled his shirt off leaving you to look up at his toned chest “think it’s just right,” Adam mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw as he pecked your lips quickly pulling your dress up to your arms “you knew you were gonna get fucked didn’t ya?” The boy groaned seeing that your bra and panties matched.

You smirked “knew Ethan would fuck me real good.” Your words hit him as he let out a dry chuckle “gonna regret that you ever said that.” Adams words made your eyes go wide as he pulled his shorts down with his underwear.

His cock slapped his torso making your mouth water “like what you see?” He asked taking the condom from your hands as you licked your lips.

The honest thought of all the different ways that Adam could fuck you were making you wetter than you already were “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Adam groaned running his now covered cock over your clit as he dropped to his knees “you’re on the clock Fantilli,” you warned letting out a gasp as his cock slipped into your pussy.

“oh god!”

Adam smirked bringing his lips down to nip at your neck “it’s just me baby,” he murmured beginning to thrust his cock as he grinded his hips against yours.

You let your head rest against the mattress as your body enjoyed how Adam felt stretching your core out “shut up,” you grumbled cupping his face as you brought his lips up to your own.

His hands grabbed at your ass “you’re lucky this pussy is so good.” Adam grunted bringing your legs around his waist.

The compliment made your cheeks weirdly warm as you stared up at him. His chain was cool against your jaw “don’t stop fucking me,” you begged letting your hands rest behind his neck as your core clenched around him.

It was safe to say that Adam felt like he was on cloud nine “you feel me right there?” The hockey player asked placing his hand on your stomach making sure that he used just enough pressure so that he’d feel the way his cock moved inside of you.

A groan left your lips as you nodded “making me feel so good.” If you knew that Adam was so good in bed you would have gotten him in there way earlier “so easy to please you baby.” The hockey player grew comfortable with that pet name as he brought his hand between your body’s letting it rest on your clit.

The sound of skin slapping bounced off of the walls as your bed shook “please let me come.” You begged letting your face tense up as your toes curled “I’ll be your good girl just please!” Your words made Adams cock throb as he watched your roll back.

Adam used his free had to grab your face “don’t have to beg me to come baby.” He reminded you as he squeezed your jaw “but when you tell me you’ll be my good girl I can’t complain.” The hockey player kissed your ear lobe as his breath hit your neck.

Just when he thought that he was going to last you reached your high for the second time of the night “so fucking good!” You cried out as you kissing Adam letting your moan get muffled as his lips swallowed it triggering his own orgasm.

His body shuddered as he almost collapsed on top of yours but luckily his hands were there to stop him as Adam pulled out of you “you did so fucking good baby.” The hockey player mumble as he pecked your lips before he reached over to grab your phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows watching him unlock your the device as Luca had obviously let the password slip to his brother one day “telling Ethan you can’t make it.” Adam explained as you let out a laugh.

Adam sent the text as placed your phone on the table “better make this stay worth my while then,” you warned wriggling your eyebrows.

“Baby I’m only getting started.”

#Adam Fantilli smut #umich smut #adam fantilli imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut #imagines #oneshots #umich hockey #amber writes fics

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nvvacanesworld · 4 months

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OLDER BOYFRIEND JJK MEN!- a series ♥︎

♡pairing- older bf! toji x preschool teacher! reader≧◡≦

♡contains-mentions of kissing and touching, mentions of toji having a closet full of weapons, mentions of pda , preschooler megumi :) (awww)

an- if you see quotes it means just means those were direct words you guys said. I thought i should make that clear cause my friend said it was confusing for her. Anywho enjoy :) im a new writer so im always welcome to feedback just pls don’t be mean. Enjoyyyyy(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)

stranger!toji - who first met you at open house for his kid- megumi, you were going to be his home room teacher. He was honestly sick of the shit and wanted to go home until you opened your classroom door for the parents with a sweet smile on your face beckoning them to come in and take a seat.

megumis dad!toji - someone you didn’t really think much of at first, if you were being honest he looked scary and you were shocked when he stayed behind after the other parents left to talk to you one on one, leaving megumi to color by himself while you guys had a chat by your desk

megumis dad!toji- doesn’t know why he stayed after, he decided on a whim- like he does with basically every decision in his life- that he just need to talk you. Using the excuse that he wanted to know more about you, which wouldn’t have been a lie-if he didn’t say it was for megumis sake, when it was really for him.

megumis dad!toji -who you lose track talking to, you don’t know what made him so interesting. Maybe it was his gruff exterior, and how he kept slipping in flirty remarks to you. You didn’t notice how you guys had almost been talking for 45 minutes until megumi comes up to his dad pulling on his pant leg whining about how he wanted to go home.

megumis dad!toji- who makes it so obvious how much older he is than you when instead of using the number you gave all the parents to contact you with decides you to send you a email instead. But hey, he needed to talk to you someone. Using his son as an excuse per usual he would ask “how is megumi doing in school” and if “there was any behavior that needed correcting”

megumis dad!toji- who you start to see way more often then you thought you would. Always being the first at the school and last to leave just so he can talk to you longer but hey? it’s for little gumi, which is how during about the second quarter of school he asked out to dinner, to which you accepted because you weren’t dumb and you were starting to like him to, you thought it was really cute how he would do whatever he could to see you. Maybe he has a softer side

crush!toji - couldn’t remember a time where he has been nervous to see a girl. He doesn’t know what flipped switched in him but he was outside of you door and wished the world would swallow him whole. It’s not like he showed it though, still keeping that gruff expression which made you attracted to him in the first place.

crush!toji - who takes you to the most beautiful restaurant you have ever scene. When’s the last time you’ve been treated to something like this ? just walking into this place felt like a dream, and you could tell it cost him a pretty penny too.

crush!toji - who was so mature and respectful the whole night, he held the door for you when you guys walked in making sure he held your hand, pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before he sat, and don’t forgot him bring you a gift too which happened to be a book you loved that you mentioned in passing in one of you guys conversations.

crush!toji- who tried his best to keep up his good behavior but couldn’t take it when the waiter kept flirting you. He ended up grabbing your hand and escorting you out that kid had him so heated. He had to beg for you forgiveness in the car though when you got mad at him for ruining your meal and the good time you were having over a little jealousy.

crush!toji- who makes it up to you by inviting you to his house for a movie and dinner. That he cooked himself by the way. When you finally agree he drops Megumi off at Satorus and deep cleans the house. By the end of the date he is kissing you on the lips and asking you if he could "be your boyfriend". Very out of character for him, but you bring out a softer side even he doesn't recognize.

older bf!toji- who at the beginning of your relationship makes it obvious he expresses his feelings through actions and not his words. He isn't good with expressing how he feels causing you guys to fight sometimes. He always makes it up to you though by giving you gifts and taking you out on your lunch breaks.

older bf!toji- whose father tendencies, his urge to guide and provide, and how he can be stern with his teachings, sometimes leak into your relationship and how he treats you in the relationship. You've opened up to him about how it sometimes makes you feel like you are his child so he has put in effort to stop but they still sometimes jump out in certain instances.

older bf!toji- has such a sarcastic and sometimes dark humor humor. when he first expressed this side of himself to you you couldn't tell if he was serious or not because he said it with such a straight face. That doesn't mean he doesn't make you laugh though, once you got used to it he became one of the funniest people ever.

older bf!toji- has such a different taste in music and books and even films than you, always surprising you with bands he listens to that you've never even heard of. You do the same though introducing him to music and literature you're into that he's never heard of, always learning new things about each other.

older bf!toji- introduced you to his friends one day and although it's a smaller group than most they are all so different, but one thing they can all agree on is that you are perfect for Toji.

older bf!toji - surprises you with how much he likes to cook, you knew he could cook because of you guy's second date, or "redemption date" as he likes to call it, you just didn't expect him to always want to cook for you.

older bf!toji- is very reserved about his past, opening up to you sometimes when he's feeling extra vulnerable but doesn't like to dive into that part of himself, you did find a closet full of weapons though when you were snooping around one day. You wonder what thats about

older bf!toji- loves PDA, always touching you and kissing you not caring who is around, unless you guys are together at the school, you put a firm boundary on that saying "absolutely no touching" when you guys are in front of the kids and other parents.

older bf!toji- takes you to work while taking Megumi to school- who by the way absolutely loves you, it took some warming up to do when you were first introduced outside of school but with the right amount of love and patience you guys became best friends it’s one of the reasons why toji loves yo- loves taking you guys to work and school became the car rides are always so fun :)

older bf!toji- is such a homebody, opting to stay in the house instead of going out, but if you want to go out he'll make an exception.

older bf!toji - is so happy he met you, he thinks you make him a better man.

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 7 days

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Bikini Body 👙 (Poly!KiriBakuMina x Fem!Chubby!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"So much for not coming out of that bikini."

Pairing: Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Chubby!Reader

Synopsis: In which your boyfriends and girlfriend decide to show you just how good you look in your new bathing suit one hot summer day on the beach.

Warnings: Fluffy Smutty Smut; 18+; AgedUp!KiriMinaBaku; Poly Love; Oil Massages in Inappropriate Places; Tongue Kissing; Strip Tease; Ice Play; Fingering; Clit Stimulation; Masturbation; Daisy Chain; Double Blowjob; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle; Kissing While Fucking; Public Sex; Creampies; Aftercare Cuddling

Writer's Note: This is based off a request I did for someone last summer, but it was unfortunately flagged. I decided to revise it & add Bakugou’s fine ass because I can’t get enough of them poly relationships. Enjoy! -Jazz

********

“Kiri, honey, playing with my bikini isn’t gonna make me come out of it any quicker…or at all.”

“Why noooot?” Kirishima pouts as he lays on his back beside you, his abs deliciously coated in sun tan oil. His fingers toy with the ties on your bikini bottoms, his hand brushing against your thigh here and there.

“You too, Katsuki,” you critically say, giving the blonde a glare from behind you.

He glares despite his hand blantally laying on your ass while he sips his water bottle. “Tch! You’re hallucinating, you crazy girl.” His body, toned by years of training, is also shining with oil.

You’re currently reading and sitting on your stomach on the cushioned bed provided by the private cabana he, Kiri, and Mina rented for this particular beach trip. It’s big enough to house six people and comes with a bed, furniture, and silk curtains that provide privacy from the rest of the beach-goers and relief from the hot, blinding sun beyond.

“Because I’m not in the water,” you reply matter-of-factly. “And I’m not gettin’ a tan, so what’s the use of takin’ it off?”

You flip to the next page in your book, doing your best to ignore Kiri’s pouting and Bakugou’s childish glare. “You’re lucky I even decided to come out in this. You know I don’t exactly have a bikini body like Mina.”

“Who said what about me?” Mina asks, entering the cabana. She’s holding a plate of juicy-looking fruit in one hand and sun tan oil in the other. “Went back to the hotel to get some stuff. And I bought snacks!”

When she saunters into the cabana, you can't help but admire the body of your girlfriend–she’s all lean muscle with perky tits and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of; not an inch of fat anywhere that could disrupt the aesthetic of her gold string bikini that brings out the pink of her skin and curly hair.

Her body is the total opposite of yours and you are now hyper aware of it after Mina forced you to pick out a bikini while shopping for your couples’ beach trip. You are much bigger with extra fat layering your body. You come with thick thighs, large breasts that require a bikini top with bigger cups, jiggly arms, back rolls, and a soft, pudgy stomach that jiggles when you make even one move.

You’re chubby–that’s just a fact. Though you know that realistically it isn’t a big deal…but when the summertime hits, it’s a different story.

You’re nervous to wear certain clothes that would show off your body, like tight-hugging dresses that would show off your rolls and shorts due to your thighs constantly rubbing together. You’re so afraid of the looks and the words that you’d see in people’s mouths, criticizing your size. You barely have any bathing suits in your closet because of this.

But when you met Kiri, Bakugou, and Mina a couple months ago and started dating, they had no problem with your shape or size. In fact, they adored it. They always made a point to boost your confidence by giving you compliments on your outfits or touching you on a whim–Mina might wrap her arms around your waist; Kiri will pick you up and squeeze you tight; Bakugou might slap your ass just to hear you squeal.

And though you appreciate your efforts, they don’t quite meet the goal of making you feel more comfortable in your body. Especially out in public.

“Oh, look, baby!” Kiri cheerfully announces, smiling smugly at you. “Mina got sun tan oil! Now you have to take it off.” You peer down at him in his shark-printed swim trunks that don’t do much to hide what he’s packing. Toss in the washboard abs, big biceps, and tree trunk thighs, and Kiri is a walking, talking wet dream.

Bakugou is just as bad. He is as tall as his and your boyfriend Kiri with a body that fills out his orange swim trunks. You can’t help but ogle at his thick, muscular thighs and big pecs you’d like to motorboat.

You already know people often wonder how someone like you managed to bag someone like him, Kiri, and Mina–three rich, famous, sexy individuals.

“I’m not taking it off,” you sternly reply. “And that’s final. I don’t need any sun tan oil anyway.”

Bakugou scowls at you. “What, you tryin’ to burn?”

Mina scoffs, climbing up onto the bed after lowering the fruit on the table next to you with a pitcher of ice sit. “What?! Then you’ll be all sunburned! You need some color on this skin, babe, and the sun is the perfect way to do that.” She moves toward you, nuzzling her face into your neck. “C’mon; don’t you want our friends to know that you took a nice trip to the beach when we get back home?”

“They’ll know from the pictures,” you passively say, flushing at the scent of mangos in Mina’s hair and Kiri’s soft nibbles on your jiggly thigh. “You three go ahead and enjoy the sun though. I’m good here.”

“Nonsense!” Kiri scoffs, sitting up next to you now. “There will be plenty of time for the sun and water once we prepare for the sun rays.” He takes the sun tan oil from Mina, smirking at both of you girls. “And once I get my hands on you two. I can’t tell you how good you girls look in those bikinis.”

Bakugou shoots him a sharp look under his sunglasses. “Greedy bitch,” he growls. “I’m here too, y’know. I’ve already gotta share what’s mine, so why leave me out?”

Kiri pokes his pierced bottom lip out at the platinum blonde. “Aw, ‘Suki, I’m sorry,” he coos. “You look good in your bottoms too.” He moves in to give him a kiss, but Bakugou pegs a piece of watermelon at him, earning a laugh.

You flush at Kiri’s suggestive comment while Mina giggles. “Why, thank you, babe,” she coos, leaning over you to give Kiri a peck on the lips. “We wore ‘em just for two.” She pecks Bakugou on the lips too, much to his enjoyment.

“Didn’t we, Y/N?” She runs her fingers over the string holding up your bikini top behind your back, her glossy lips at your ear. “You sure you don’t want a rub down?” she purrs. “I could do it instead of the boys. You know I’m good with my hands.”

‘You all are,’ you think, her suggestive tone pouring warmth into your core that distracts you from your book.

With the three of them so close and in such a semi-private place, it’s making it hard to not do what they want. But the idea of flaunting your body in or out of your bikini, even to them, still scares you. “I’m good,” you say, giving her a reassured smile. "You three enjoy yourselves.”

Though your partners don’t look happy with that, they leave you be regardless and instead indulge themselves in the oil. “Want me to rub you down, baby?” Kiri asks Mina, the pet name making your stomach flip even though it isn’t even directed at you.

“Yes, please,” Mina giggles.

“Uh-uh,” Bakugou demands, snatching the oil away from Kiri. “We’ll both do it. You take the top, I take the bottom.” Mina giggles, poking at his stomach. “Nasty man,” she tuts.

At the corner of your eye, you watch as she lays down on her stomach between Bakugou’s legs with her head resting on her arms while Kiri kneels above her. He squirts some oil into his big hands and rubs them together before starting on her back. He unties her bikini top, revealing her toned back, before firmly rubbing the oil into her skin. He takes his time kneading the oil into her back muscles and spine, his fingers expertly working over her skin.

Bakugou does the same, warming the oil up between his calloused hands. He then begins to work on her waist, kneading the oil into her pink skin, before gliding down to her legs toned from her pro hero work. His hands then begin to trail up and down her sides, pushing into her side muscles, until they finally move to her glutes.

Her gorgeous, firm glutes that you can’t help but stare at.

As he does, he gives Mina’s taut ass a firm spank, making her squeal. “It’s your fault, Pinkie,” he chuckles. “How the fuck can I focus on oilin’ you up when that thing is in my face?”

He then unties Mina’s bottoms, leaving her completely naked. Suddenly, you’re not paying any attention to your book anymore, instead watching your men massage your girlfriend’s ass. Her moans of enjoyment are soft yet arousing. Kiri and Bakugou seem to be enjoying themselves too judging by the little smirk that plays on their lips.

After a few minutes, Bakugou flips her over, revealing her toned stomach and naked, perky breasts to you and them. You can’t quite see what lies below her belly button where a diamond stud lies, but knowing that she is totally nude is doing things to you.

Kiri begins to massage her feet and ankles first before moving up to her calves and thighs, his fingers pressing and pushing into her muscles. Bakugou does her neck and shoulders. After a few agonizing minutes of working less androgynous zones, he moves up to her stomach and chest. You watch the oil dribble down her skin and over her hardened, dark pink nipples. The sounds that drip from her lips are beautiful and they make you clench your thighs together.

Bakgou suddenly turns his head to look at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Like whatcha see, mama?” He teasingly asks. “Y’know, we could do this for you too. Just need to take this off.” His fingers toy with the ties to your bottoms.

You press your tight together, uncertain. “I-I don’t know…”

“Are you scared someone might see?” Kiri curiously asks, pausing his massage. “We rented a cabana with curtains for a reason! Plus, we’re just massaging you. Nothing nasty…yet.” You and Mina slap his chest, earning a hysterical laugh. “I kid, I kid!” he cackles, raising his hands in defense.

“I don’t,” Bakugou bluntly says. But he never does.

“I’m just afraid someone might see me,” you timidly explain. “I had a cover-up on when we arrived, but now…” You look through the cabana curtains billowing in the summer breeze, the scent of sea salt and sand in it. Your cover-up is somewhere in the beach bag you lugged here but you know it wouldn’t make sense to put it on now.

Mina lays a comforting hand on your knee, smiling reassuringly at you. “No one’s gonna see you, cutie. And even if they do, they should be lucky to get an eyeful of all of this.” Her other hand runs over your thigh, caressing it. You whimper slightly at her touch as well as the looks Kiri and Bakgou give you.

“Okay,” you acquiesced with a defeated sigh, “but only the top.” Bakgou looks pleased, Kiri sighs in relief, and Mina squeals happily. “Now, put that damn book down and get that fuckin’ top off!” Bakugou growls.

“Yes, sir!” Mina giggles, sitting up to help you despite her very-nude body. Anyone could walk by now and peek in to see her and that ass.

You flush embarrassingly as she helps you untie your bikini top. Once it loosens, the cups fall off your chest, letting your breasts hang freely. Though they’re not as perky as Mina’s and don’t sit up on your chest, your partners still stare at them as if they are the most gorgeous things in the world. You even start to believe that they are.

You and Mina switch spots so you’re lying on your back now, as rigid as a board even as Kiri begins to massage you.

You have to admit that his hands feel good as he massages your legs and stomach. Though you flush and squirm slightly at his hands caressing your body, you start to relax and melt into his touch. Combined with the tropical scent of the oil and the sound of the beach outside the cabana, you’re in heaven. Your eyes flutter closed and suddenly, you don’t even care that your tits are out in a public place. “Mmm…”

“Just relax, mama,” Kiri encourages, a proud smile in his voice. “Let me know if you want me to stop or if a certain spot hurts.”

You slowly nod, melting further into the bed as he continues to press his fingers into the muscles beneath the soft, pudgy skin of your lower body. You’re so relaxed that you barely feel Mina’s hands begin to massage your breasts. Your eyes open to find her smiling down at you. “W-What are you–“

“Just massaging you, cutie. Don’t want your chest lookin’ like a raisin by the end of today.” She gives you a cheeky wink as her hands work along your breasts; teasing them; molding them; massaging the oil into the tender skin surrounding your areolas.

You can’t hold back the pleasurable moans and sighs at the sensations you’re feeling from both of your partners’ hands. But when Mina begins to pinch and tweak your nipples, you know that things are going too far. “M-Mina,” you stammer. “You shouldn’t…we shouldn’t–“

“Time to flip over,” Kiri announces. “Lemme see dat ass.”

Mina tuts, rolling her eyes at your boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “So childish.” You do as he orders and flip over, revealing your naked back and ass still in your bikini bottoms.

��My turn,” Bakugou growls, shoving Kiri out the way. “You’re takin’ too long, shark boy.”

Though you’re burning with embarrassment, you can’t help but love the way your hotheaded boyfriend’s firm but careful hands massage up and down your back. You relax further into the bed as all of your cares melt away.

When his hands trail down to your ass cheeks and he begins to massage there, you just about jump out of your skin. He knows that’s your weak spot! You want to protest, tell him to move his hands up, but it just feels too good! You didn’t realize how relaxing an ass massage truly is until now. “Ah,” you softly moan.

Bakugou chuckles at your verbal expression of pleasure. “You like that, baby?” he asks. You nod into the mattress, your eyes fluttering closed. “Good. I’m glad your feelin’ good. Shark boy and Pinky ain't the only ones who are good with their hands.”

Above you, Mina giggles. “Oh, we would know.”

You then suddenly feel her lips at your ear as her hands begin to caress your back, massaging your shoulders and neck. “You look so cute like this,” she murmurs. "So relaxed and comfortable. You and your body deserve to feel like this every single day.” Her words are oh-so sweet and they make you feel hotter than the sun under her and Bakugou’s hands.

You’re gone, drifting off into a realm of euphoria. You’re so relaxed that you barely feel Bakugou’s hands begin to wedge between your thighs. When you do, you’re too relaxed to stop him, your body like jell-O. All you can do is give a whine of protest as you feel his fingers brush your bikini-covered pussy.

“You feel tense here too, baby,” he coos. "Don’t worry; I know just the trick.”

He then begins to rub you through your bottoms, slowly stroking his fingers over your pussy. He takes his time, never going under your bottoms until he has your permission. “Fuck, ‘Suki,” you moan. “P-Please…keep going.” You lift your hips to give him more access, flushing when he, Kiri, and Mina begin to laugh at your neediness.

He slowly unties the strings holding your bikini bottoms up and when the summer breeze hits your skin, you softly sigh. You hate to admit how nice it feels to be naked.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kiri groans from behind you. “And so wet. I bet that massage did the trick, didn’t it?”

Without receiving an answer, he begins to kiss your asscheeks while Bakugou begins to stroke your pussy, his fingers gliding across your slit and the underside of your sensitive little clit that has seemed to become more sensitive from the constant physical stimulation your body feels.

Your eyes flutter closed and your mouth forms the shape of an O as sparks of pleasure shoot from your clit into every part of your body. You know that you should stop. You know that anyone could look in and clearly find Bakugou playing with your pussy right now.

‘But this counts as a massage, right?’ You deliriously think. ‘He’s rubbing oil onto me.’ And he is. The oil staining his fingers makes your pussy nice and slick, making his ministrations that easier to do to you.

A soft moan makes you open your eyes, finding Mina above you with her legs spread. She’s leaning back against the pillows, running an ice cube up and down her stomach and chest. Your eyes catch each droplet that cascades down her soft, pink skin and across her hard nipples.

“Don’t worry about me, cutie,” she giggles. "Just felt kinda hot seein’ you and our boyfriends like that.” She then brings the ice cube to her mouth and sucks on it, causing water to dribble down her mouth and chin.

Your mouth becomes dry, suddenly parched for her. “You want a taste?” she teasingly asks, popping the cube in her mouth. You wordlessly rise onto your hands and knees to reach her and lean forward to press your lips to yours. Her lips are cold and wet but soft; intoxicatingly so.

Small moans leave your mouths as you kiss, tongues beginning to swirl with one another. The ice cube melts between your lips at the heat of your mouths and tongues, causing more water to dribble down your chins.

From behind you, Kiri groans in arousal. “Oh, now this is a sight,” he sighs.

Bakugou hums in agreement. “And a perfect angle.” As you continue to kiss Mina, you suddenly feel Bakugou’s face in your pussy where his tongue begins to caress every sensitive bit of it. “Bakugou!” you whine as his hands begin to massage your ass.

Kiri laughs, watching your boyfriend slurp at your cunt. “Y-You did that on purpose!” you whimper to Mina who deviously smiles at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she snickers. “But doesn’t his mouth feel so good on that pussy?”

As if to prove her point, Bakugou suckles gently on your clit, emitting a strangled moan from your lips. Mina giggles as she leans back, watching the show before her as her hand sneaks down between her thighs. “So much for not coming out of that bikini.”

You can concur. You were so adamant about not coming out of your bathing suit before. Now you’re completely nude with your man’s face in your pussy and your woman playing with herself in front of you as she indulges in your naked body.

Kiri shimmies up to Mina, standing up on his knees. “Your other partner needs some attention too, darlin’,” he says, suggestively jutting his hips towards Mina’s mouth.

She giggles sexily, using one hand to pull Kiri’s trunks down. His hard cock, pierced at the tip, springs to life, much to the delight of you and Mina. “Wanna get it wet for me?” He asks, smirking playfully at her. Wordlessly, she licks up, down, and around his shaft like it’s a big, juicy lollipop and begins sucking.

Kiri’s tilts his head back, his long, red locks cascading down his back and shoulders while Mina sucks him off, her fingers rubbing her pussy. Bakugou hums into your cunt, giving your ass a smack. You’re receiving both types of stimulation right now: visual and physical. It’s almost too much for you to bear.

Before you know it, minutes later, you’ve got your face planted in Mina’s pussy while Bakugou continues to mouth yours, your tongue stroking her inner walls. Meanwhile, she’s still sucking off Kiri, earning delicious, rasped moans and whines out of him.

Mina clenches her thighs around you and grinds her hips up into your mouth, her mellifluous moans filling the space of the cabana among the sound of the crashing waves and cawing seagulls.

She pulls away from Kiri, letting his cock slip out of her mouth. “God, yes!” she whines, her head thrown back against the pillows. “Such a good girl for me. You look so pretty like that.” Her one hand moves through your hair while the other lazily toys with Kiri’s cock, pumping it up and down.

Kiri hums, hands watching you and Bakugou at the same time. “She definitely does,” he agrees. “Toss your ass into his face, baby. You know he can take it.” He leans forward to smack your ass, making your pussy throb in Bakugou’s mouth.

As if agreeing, the blonde growls against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body. And you do, unable to hold back anymore as his tongue strokes every sensitive bit of your pussy from the inside, his fingers still toying with your clit while you play with Mina’s.

Probably for anyone else, oral would be a simple way to get off in such a public place where you could possibly get caught. But not for you. As you get closer to cumming around Bakugou’s tongue, you beg him to stop and to fuck you instead. “I need you inside me,” you whine, shamelessly pushing yourself back into him. “Please! I’m begging you!”

It doesn't take long for you to turn into a needy, helpless slut in need of attention, and your partners know that.

So Bakugou wastes no time untying his trunks to free his throbbing, hard cock to you and finally sinking into the wet, velvet walls of your pussy that instantly clench around him. Kiri does the same to Mina, bending her over on all fours and sliding himself inside of her. You watch her reaction as Kiri finally slides home inside her just as Bakugou does to you, her pink lips falling open as a gasp exits her mouth.

Both of your boyfriends rock their hips into you and Mina almost immediately, their balls swinging against your clits. It’s making you see the entire galaxy behind your eyelids, feeling Bakugou’s heavy balls gently slap your rosebud. You can’t keep quiet, moans and gasps escaping you.

“God, you’re tight!” Bakugou grunts, gripping your hips for dear life. “Bet you needed this, hm? You wanted us to show you just how pretty you are in and out of that damn bikini, huh?”

He lifts one leg up and proceeds to beat your pussy all the way up, his dick stroking your inner walls until your tits are jiggling and the bed is rocking with every single thrust.

“You know you’re a pretty girl,” Kiri groans, reaching forward to stroke your lips while he continues to fuck Mina’s pretty, pink pussy. “You know that, right, mama?”

You whine in response as Bakugou rocks his hips back and forth, propelling you into that state of euphoria until you can hardly breathe.

“So cute!” Mina whines, her brows furrowed and her jaw dropped in pleasure. Her tits and ass are bouncing as Kiri pistons himself into her from behind. “Need you,” she whimpers. “Kiss me, baby.”

You lean in, connecting your lips in a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss that makes Kiri and Bakugou groan in pleasure watching their two girls sloppily kiss each other while getting fucked. “Goddamn, you two are so slutty,” Bakugou growls. “Only we can see you like this.” With one hand, he grips one of your heavy tits, massaging it. “You hear that, baby girl? You understand me?”

“I don’t think this is enough, Bakugou,” Kiri teasingly says. “I think she may need more after this.”

From behind you, Bakugou laughs but it sounds more like an evil cackle. “Like I was gonna stop here,” he huffs. “I still need to make you cum, and we’re not leavin’ here until you two are seein’ fuckin’ stars.”

“Same here,” Kiri replies, mirth and a challenge twinkling in his crimson eyes. “Let’s see who can make these cuties cum the quickest.” Bakugou smirks, up for the challenge.

Both of them are men of their words. After fucking your and Mina’s brains out to the point where you’re cumming all over Bakugou’s dick and screaming into a pillow to avoid gaining unwanted attention from beach-goers, you switch with her. You spread your thick thighs open and let Kiri fuck you on your back while she toots her ass up for Bakugou who fucks her into oblivion, his abs and body glinting in sweat and sun tan oil.

The sight of it is too much and you find yourself cumming again all over Kiri’s cock as Mina coaxes you to orgasm with her words. “You’re so pretty,” she babbles, her face hovering over yours while Bakugou fucks her from behind. “So pretty when you cum on that dick, babe.”

And that isn’t even the best part.

Even after Kiri maes you explode all over his cock and you greedily swallow every ounce of his cum when he fucks your pretty face, making your cheeks look full.

Even after you watch Bakugou cum deep inside of Mina and makes her clean it up, her tongue greedily licking up and down his dripping cock.

Even when Kiri strokes your hair and whispers compliments to you, telling you, “God, you’re so pretty. So hot when you take our cocks. You deserve all of this…all of our cum…”

Even after both he and Bakugou make you kneel before them and feed you their cocks again, bringing them to orgasm again while Mina eats your pussy from behind, giggling as you quiver and let out a third orgasm.

The best part to end the day is when you’re finally snuggled between your three partners as you lie spent and exhausted from the activities, nearly passing out on the bed as the mid-afternoon sun glints along the water.

You lay your head on Kiri’s hard chest, breathing in his scent of sunscreen, mangos, and sea salt as he strokes your hair. Mina lies between you and Bakugou, her front pressed against your back, and her fingers caressing your thighs and sides while Bakugou spoons her.

“Rest now, baby,” he coos to you. “And do it now because when we get back to the hotel, you ain’t sleepin’ at all.”

The devious giggles Mina and Kiri let out are enough to make you sleep with one eye open.

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #my fic shit #bnha smut #bakugou x fem!reader #kirishima x fem!reader #mina x fem!reader #poly kiribaku #mina x kirishima #mina x bakugou #polyyyy

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mouschiwrites · 4 months

Text

I haven’t written for Creepypasta/MH for a while, so…. Here :] (i am so sorry for starving you my sweet creeps/creep enjoyers)

Creepypasta/MH - How You Met

Characters: Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, “Ticci” Toby

Nina the Killer

You guys met at the mall

I’ll give you one guess which store you were in

….did you guess Claire’s? Because it was Claire’s

(For those who don’t know, Claire’s is a super cutesy accessory store with earrings, headbands, unicorn headphones, stuff like that…. They also do piercings)

She was getting a new piercing, you were just browsing

You were closely examining two pairs of earrings, trying to decide which ones to get

A few feet away Nina was doing the same, tapping her masked cheek as she tried to pick out which studs to get for the new piercing

You kinda looked at each other from the corners of your eyes, noticing that you were in a similar predicament

Nina looked you up and down, and decided on a whim that she wanted your advice

“Hey, which studs do you think I should get? I’m getting a new piercing.”

You leaned over, checking out the selection alongside her

While you looked, she tucked her hair behind her ear to let you see the ones she already had

You hummed, looking between her ears and the studs on display

Then you pointed to the ones you thought would look best, and though you couldn’t see her mouth under her mask, you knew she was smiling hugely

“Thank you so much!! Now let me help you pick your earrings!”

You smiled, surprised that she took notice of your earlier plight

You guys seemed to connect over your sense of fashion/what looks nice (even if you didn’t necessarily have the same aesthetic)

She actually asked if you wanted to stick around for the actual piercing after, which you agreed to

It looked fantastic ofc, and she gave you full credit :)

After that you guys hung around the mall together, exchanging numbers before parting

She was enamored by your style, your demeanor, your attitude—she was determined to see you again

Jeff the Killer

You guys also met at a store

But it was a thrift store

You were hunting “the heat” that everyone always buzzes about

He was hunting some nice deals on clothes 💰

You didn’t notice the pale, masked man browsing the racks, but he certainly noticed you

He watched the way you moved; the way your face shifted when you found something you liked or disliked

He wasn’t particularly interested, but he was watching you anyway

Just a habit of a serial killer ig

You were slowly growing closer, the racks separating you two dwindling in number until you were on the same aisle, walking in opposite directions

You pulled out a shirt, and suddenly your face exploded into a huge grin and a snort escaped you

Jeff jumped, not having expected…. that

You were doing your best not to double over in laughter, repeatedly looking over the shirt in your hands

You decided that you just had to share this with someone, so you waved over the nearest person

Which was Jeff, of course

He warily approached, curious but cautious

His eyes were narrowed until you flipped around the shirt, letting him read it

“Shakin’ tits and takin’ shits….”

He blinked once, processing the outrageous atrocity of fashion

Then he started chuckling too

You shared a fit of laughter that never seemed to end as you both kept renewing your giggles by looking at the shirt or each other

It was just so stupid, and you both kept saying so between laughs

He extended his hand, steadying himself to say:

“Please let me buy that.”

“What, you think I’m gonna wear it? …Hmm, on second thought…”

Cue the teasing banter (oh man. He’s hooked now)

In the end you walked away with the shirt, but Jeff came away with something better

A new interesting acquaintance, and a motive to “get you back”

What does that mean? Lord knows… but don’t be surprised when he suddenly shows up again, ready for some more of that playful banter

“Ticci” Toby

You guys actually knew each other before Toby became what he is

So let’s rewind back to high school:

Toby was a weirdo, this we know

But so were you (even if you tried to hide it)

You were intrigued by the strange boy that seemed to be lurking in the back row of your every class

One day you decided to sit next to him; you realized that he actually seemed kinda… normal?

Like, you weren’t alarmed by him or anything

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t the quiet (if not fidgety) kid you found yourself next to

You were prone to draw when bored in class, and though you didn’t notice at first, he seemed to like watching you draw

It became more obvious as time passed, until one day he finally spoke to you

In a hushed whisper, careful not to be caught by the teacher, he said:

“Can you draw the teacher? But, like, super ugly.”

You smirked mischievously, giving a little nod as you doodled the crude character

You heard him snort, and for the first time you saw a genuine smile on those chapped, chewed-up lips

From then on you frequently amused him with your drawings, and he amused you with his requests

You started meeting up more often, and you sorta became friends

You weren’t particularly close or anything, but you’d give each other knowing grins when you passed each other in the hallways

He liked your mischievous side, as well as the fact that you didn’t pity him

You were just a chill person who he vibed really well with :)

When he went off the rails, you guys kind of lost contact

You were someone he could come to when he was in a goofy mood, but as that became more of a rarity, so too did your relationship wither

But he never forgot you; in his mind, you were like a flower frosted over, someone he could come back to someday and be accepted once more

Though he didn’t think of you too often, especially as the years passed

Like I said, you weren’t close

But still, you made a lasting impression on him, and he always knew he’d be glad to see you again someday

Not too many characters with this one; I noticed it was getting kinda long ^^” But thanks for reading!! Take care sweet things <33

(divider by saradika)

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #nina the killer #nina the killer x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta headcanons

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