#ty for the ask! :3 this was an inch resting one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pure-smut · 3 months ago

Text

sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyou x you #hinata shouyou x y/n #hinata souyou smut

1K notes · View notes

ceilidho · 9 months ago

Text

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) masterlist

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

2K notes · View notes

scottiexmariee · 15 days ago

Note

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public.

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared.

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over.

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario.

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries.

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline.

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap.

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

Xavier almost giggled.

“So….you slapped him?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious.

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else.

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient.

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here.

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave.

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car.

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress.

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color.

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss.

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted.

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand.

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid.

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated.

You swallowed.

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping.

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of.

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior.

And then, she just….kept going.

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled.

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing.

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him.

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist.

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke.

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,”

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course.

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,”

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either.

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art.

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding.

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ��worthless.’ It was Rafayel.

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night.

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted.

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?”

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled.

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,”

“It’s different,”

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,”

“Rafayel. You were the art,”

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence.

You were the art.

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter.

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him.

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause.

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates.

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,”

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest.

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he.

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension.

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you.

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of? The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in?

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field.

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes.

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it.

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard.

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.”

Oh?

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,”

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway. So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing.

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself.

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions.

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment.

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room.

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you.

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad.

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out.

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd

608 notes · View notes

tastesousweet · 1 month ago

Text

roommate!hamzah x reader . . .

summary: little headcannons i have ab these 2!!! they’re just friends of course (wink)!!

a/n: hiii i’m slowly working on hamzah requests, ty to those who send them in for me <3

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . tends to do his morning routine without a shirt on (grabbing coffee, feeding the cats, sitting on the balcony while responding to texts he’s put off for far too long)

it’s never bothered you because you’re rarely awake early enough to know of it. yet one morning hamzah is mortified by your hook up from the night before, awake and attempting to crack jokes with him as he pours the remaining orange juice into a soft magenta-stained mug that a girlfriend had gifted you last christmas.

hamzah's eyes give a silent glare at both the audacity (of this random man who's decided to parade around the kitchen that is fifty percent his in nothing but those loose boxer shorts!) and out of disgust (he'd unfortunately heard a lot of last night's... action from his room down the hall and he hates that he now has a face to associate with the trauma).

there's a awkward tension that is clearly not reciprocated by the brash and flamboyant guy leaning against the fridge door with a smirk.

hamzah keeps his arms crossed over his own bare chest, stood next to the coffee machine- and for once he’s actually annoyed by the slow frequency of the coffee's stream and the accommodating, overwhelming smell. but he's starting to think it must be your fling’s presence that's causing everything around him to feel a bit violating.

“ummmm….” he’d delay with a deep exhale, unsure how to end a conversation he never asked to begin

the guy would take a long sip of orange juice, “i’m just wondering like, how long have you two lived together? she didn’t even tell me she lived with anyone so— i mean, it’s not everyday you see a girl hot as that living with some guy!" he pauses, "oh…wait, come on man you had to have hit by now…” he babbles on and hamzah stares blankly, stifling a laugh when it comes to the last assumption.

“man, i’m just tryna’ enjoy my breakfast…” hamzah wishes he’d never left his bedroom so early.

the guy nods his head, “yeah…yeah i get that. i should get back to y/n and stuff. she sleeps kinda heavy, huh?”

hamzah nods absentmindedly, sipping his black coffee and making his way out of the kitchen, “guess so…” he stops and looks back at him with a look of slight disgust, “next time at least put some pants on dude, cmon.”

later that day hamzah tells you about it and you laugh so hard you almost fall off of the soft brown couch. “oh my god!!!!” you laugh through your words, “was your masculinity challenged?! did you feel threatened?? maybe he was trying to eye you up- you were practically naked...” you have a grin that makes hamzah subconsciously grin with you, forcing him to overcompensate due to your implications.

"absolutely none of those things?! what the fuck??? no. he was a fuckin' dog, even asked me if we've..." hamzah stutters a bit while gesturing between the two of you.

your face is shocked first as you both silently gesture between the two of you, occasionally making more grotesque and sexual movements to which you both begin to laugh. "no way! that guy has nothing but mush for brains."

hamzah bites his inner cheek harshly, tightening a grip on the circle pillow in his large arm, "yeah..."

you keep your gaze on your fingers fidgeting with the couch before a smirk inches onto your face and your head slowly turns towards hamzah.

it still surprises him how nervous you can make him with something as simple and intriguing as your eye contact, so he flusters up a bit and sputters a soft laugh, "what?" he reaches for the remote on the coffee table to distract himself.

you hum to yourself and pick up a mini twizzler from the small candy dish in the center of the table before plopping yourself down, resting your head on the pillow sat in hamzah's lap.

hamzah attempts to keep his demeanor intact as you snuggle yourself into comfort (so much so, your tiny spaghetti strap on your loose sleep top falls down your shoulder in beautiful imperfection).

you struggle with attempting to unwrap the red candy before hamzah eventually offers to help, "y'want me to do it?"

"please?" you nod and shift to look directly up at him rather than the tv.

"mhm..." he easily uses his teeth to open it, "and i'm taking a piece for my hard work."

"uh huh, sharing is caring"

not only does hamzah feed himself a peel of the twizzler, he holds a piece above your mouth which you take from him with a giggle, "mm, thank you"

hamzah's eyes almost explode when he wakes up a week later to see you making yourself a smoothie clad only in a bra and silky sleep shorts. you'd laugh at him and tell him he's so fragile and he'd claim you're trying to steal his thing while covering his eyes dramatically.

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . you like to play harmless pranks on in good spirits and post on your close friends story , calling it “hamzah hijinks”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . helps you cook or bake whenever you find a new recipe to try out on pinterest— at times they're even filmed and treated as competitions between you and mandy versus hamzah and martin

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . finds it difficult to not have a crush on you when his audience constantly tells him otherwise

there are plenty of shipping posts that come from your appearances and mentions on his channel but from your attitude hamzah's convinced you must not be aware of them or are truly that unbothered by anyone's opinion

clips such as you wiping flour from his cheek to which he joked, “okay stop it now, you know that really ignites my mommy issues”

or when you guest starred on a patreon episode of the podcast, adding small tidbits to the conversation while petting blue and eating a strawberry popsicle. leading hamzah to over reach and pet blue with you randomly, which many fans found cute— like you were a family

or whenever martin would bring you up and hamzah would immediately focus on what he says afterwards— many viewers have concluded he’s obsessed with you

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . now edits his youtube videos in the living room with your legs draped over his shoulders so that you can watch and help him when necessary (but mostly because of your abundantly clear physical love language)

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . thinks it’s really sweet that you can find a piece of him in any and everything without trying

“so i was out…”

hamzah leans his forearms against the island counter with a grin and his headset shifted from his ears (you interrupted his gaming and told him to come see you afterwards but he insisted on pausing for you) “uh huhhh??”

“andddd… i found a cute small shop and guess what they specialize in?!!!!”

“what??!!!”

“custom sonny angels!! so i got one for each of us.” you smile wide, “it’s crazy i just showed them a picture of us and they based the outfits on it. look at them!!!”

hamzah opens the box and finds the two small figures; one garnering his iconic nap queen hoodie and the other in one of your cute red babydoll tops. his mouth is wide for an extra second, “oh my god it’s us as lil’ babies” he laughs, “that’s so fucking cool, how much did you pay for this?”

“don’t worry about that. while i was waiting for them to paint those i also got you this nice green shirt from urban i just like this shade on you.” you held up the shirt and hamzah hugs you gently thanking you again with a short kiss to the top of your head.

“now lemme see what you got for yourself.”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . surprisingly finds you hiding away in the en-suite bathroom during a party you’re both hosting

“i didn’t think you would be in here??” he says while shutting the door behind him and taking a seat next to you on the bathroom floor

“i’m surprised to see you in here i lost you somewhere between martin showing up and that group of girls whisking you away.” you genuinely joke.

hamzah chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, “yeah it’s really not like that— i’m really not like that.”

“i know you.” you smile at his oddly nervous face.

“why’d you end up in here?” he sighs and gives your side a soft tap of acknowledgment.

“i thought i just needed to use the bathroom but then i started to find myself way happier alone in here than out there right now.”

“i feel that. i don’t know if half of those people even know this is my house.”

“i know most of them don’t know this is my house.”

hamzah laughs and lets his head hang into the open space of his bent legs, to which you take the opportunity to steal his hat from his head, plopping it on top of yours.

“come on bruh, that was supposed to cover up this mess!” hamzah jokes referring to his wildly curly hair.

“it’s far from a mess hamzah, please.” and when he turns to you, you cradle his head with both hands, scratching softly at his scalp to help revive his hat-hair.

he stares at you kindly, “mm’hold on let me see it,” he gently pulls your hands away and stands to look into the mirror. “oh my god it’s fucking horrid.”

you stand up to defend as if you crafted his hair yourself, “stop it! it looks fine,” you lean onto your tip toes to fluff it a little more, “i like it like this,”

“oh really?” he exaggerates a lift of his eyebrows and manages to catch your eye in the mirror for a second before you look away bashfully.

“hey! don’t get all shy now,” he looks behind him and confidently wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, “it’s okay. i like yours like this,” he smiles and you roll your eyes playfully.

“‘m not gettin’ shy!” you wrap your arms around his lower torso and bury your head in his chest before you pop the question, reaching up to whisper in his ear, “did max bring you more weed??”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . hotboxes your bathroom with you, making sure to bring any snacks from the crowded kitchen for the munchies that will undoubtedly come afterward

this is one of the few times you’ve got a real good look in hamzah’s eyes.

the bathroom reeks of weed and the two of you (mostly you) decided that sitting face to face was far better than side by side. it was silent for a while before you felt the need to speak about his eyes.

“did you know your eyes aren’t black?” you ask.

hamzah shakes his head slowly.

“well they have the tiniest brownie-brown to them but you’d only know if you’re like this close,” you jokingly move close enough to touch your noses together.

hamzah looks over your entire face, realizing he’s never been this physically close to you before. you glance at his lips then to his glossy red eyes.

“you smell like coconut cookies,” hamzah smiles.

you sit back on your calves, across from him with his legs crossed, “i think it’s my shampoo,” you play around with a few strands.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you nod before sitting up again, resting your hands lightly on his thighs to hold yourself up, “do you wanna do something?”

he stares at you for a moment, “like what?”

“do you trust me?” he finds that your eyes glimmer extra when they’ve got that certain puffiness and widened pupil combination.

“yeah, ‘f course, but what are we doinggg?” hamzah drags unseriously.

“just shhh,” you smile and reach for his arm behind him, slowly bringing his cold hand up to your soft cheek. “is that okay?”

hamzah sends a silent nod.

“okay,” you breathe and bring your face closer to his.

hamzah’s mind is so boggled. he can’t believe any of this; he’s completely struck by awe and tangled in your sweet cherry stem of affection. he thinks you’re a special kind of girl; one with an attitude both sexy and innocently loving. so infatuating that he’s realizing he can’t kiss you, not here, not when you’re high and thinking irresponsibly.

not when there’s a chance that you’ll wake up tomorrow and not remember it, or worse ask him to forget about it for your sake.

not when your friendship lies directly on that line.

“mm, yeah we really… shouldn’t…” he takes pauses between his words, it almost physically hurts him to see you that stunned by his words with your face still safe in his palm.

you’re completely flustered and blink your eyes a few times before retreating from his space, “oh… fuck, i’m so sorry that was-”

“it’s not like that- it’s more like, not right now. later?” he scrambles for a response as you’re trying to keep yourself from drowning in embarrassment.

“mhm sure yeah, i’ll be back.” you give a forced smile and leave him alone on the tile floor.

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . you wake up the morning after a house party and find in your bathroom tub with a sharpie mustache above his lip and a pink post it note that read: “GOODNIGHT SUGAR!!! BEST PARTY EVER - Martin :D” written in a barely legible scrawl

#poor hazmat :((((#hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefantastic fanfic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #martin and hamzah #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah #slushy noobz virus #slushynoobz #slushy noobz #thatmartinkid #martin #4freakshow

336 notes · View notes

iluvmorales · 1 year ago

Text

Miles morales, Earth 1610

summary What was your first kiss like?

a/n none

Word count ??

“Miles!” You called out with a smile, picking up your pace as you ran to the boy. He had his headphones on but he could hear you even through the loud ass music.

He turned to face you with a smile, watching you with adoration. “Y/N!” He held one of his arms up allowing you to wrap yours around his torso. “What’re you doing all the way over here?” He asked, setting his arm around you.

“I just wanted to see you, plus our classes were canceled today because of the attack last night. Kinda crashed out windows and stuff.” You spoke, not really caring about what’d happened to your school.

You and miles were split up when he’d one first place in the competition, he was sent to visions academy and you were sent to riverview academy, visions academy’s biggest rival.

“Ohh, I can skip class with you if you want? It’s just Spanish anyways.” Miles offered, taking his headphones completely down and resting on his neck with his free hand.

You quickly let go of him and stood straight, fixing your now wrinkled shirt; “No don’t do that what? I was just wondering if I could wait for you in your dorm?” You beamed at him with a smile.

“Ohh yeah, it’ll be quick.” Miles nodded as he walked up the steps and opened the door letting you in first. He wouldn’t admit it of course, but he was internally freaking out.

You looked so good today and you came all this way just to see him for a couple hours? You’d be the death of him if he wasn’t taught how to keep his cool when it comes to girls by his unc.

“Okay we can’t let admin see you so come this way” Miles pulled you into a less crowded hallway, a longer route to the dorms.

“I’ll race you there” you grinned at miles, waiting for him to accept your challenge. You always had the childish spark to you when you were around miles.

“Okay, if I win you have to let me borrow your 1’s and any clothes I want for a day- “You don’t even fit my shoes! Or my clothes!” He yelled.

“True, but if you win I’ll do something you want.” Miles paused,

Something he wants?

His mind instantly flashed images of you giving him a kiss, something he’d always wanted to do but backed down everytime the tension between you two built up.

“Bet.” Was all he sad before tying his laces and standing at a line the tiled floor provided. You quickly took your position next to him before smiling at him.

“1”

“2”

“3”

And on three you both took off, darting for the dorms. Miles was obviously ahead, but you didn’t expect it. “Since when were you so- athletic?!” You yelled trying your hardest to catch up with him.

He only looked back at you, sticking out his tongue like a child. Before you both knew it, miles slammed into the door first, you running still, not being able to slow down.

“Miles!” You yelled, tripping over your own feet. He quickly caught you, sending him slamming into the door once more.

You both laughed and giggled, being in miles’ arms as you looked up with a smile. “Damn, you really won huh” you said, defeatedly.

“Yeah,..” he trailed off, eyes moving towards your lips. You caught notice of it of course, but you looked at him, slowly inching closer.

His hand moved to your lower back and another to your cheek. You closed your eyes and moved closer, closing the little distance that was between you both.

His lips on yours was like static, a feeling in your chest you’d never felt before. You pulled away, still in a little daze as you looked up at miles. You both smiled like idiots in love before the dorms door had swung open causing you both to fall back into the room.

“Miles could you not make out on the door while I’m in here” ganke hummed before stepping over you two and into the hallway.

Both of your faces were on fire, your legs between his and your chests against eachother. You quickly stood up helping miles as well.

“Miles were gonna be late hurry up!” Ganke yelled from the end of the hallway. Miles scratched the back of his head nervously;

“we can talk about it later miles, get to class” you smiled lovingly at him before walking up and giving him a peck on his cheek

“Yeah..yeah okay see you in a hour” miles smiled, stepping out the dorm. “I’m still gonna wear your clothes miles!” You yelled as he walked down the hallway.

“Lo que es mío es tuyo amor!” He turned to face you throwing his hands up while walking backwards, winking.

You just laughed before going back into the dorm, closing the door.

amor.

translation

- Lo que es mío es tuyo amor means What’s mine is yours love

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 #the spider verse #spiderman #miles x reader

2K notes · View notes

q1ngqve · 6 months ago

Note

*slides in*

i am now asking you to fuel my sampo obsession. this is a threat (joke)

ANYWAY...

how about sampo being the masked fool!reader's first time? :3 theres bound to be masked fools from all walks of life, and the fool he's had his eye on hasnt laid with anyone yet. would he be gentle, or would he throw her in the deepest wells of pleasure?!

(mind sprinkling in a bit of corruption kink as well? ty and tyt!!! ♡♡)

-🍄

CW; fingering, slight corruption kink (i guess), penetration (v)

sampo + corruption kink??? 😜 how could anyone resist you when you’re a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him from just his teasing touch and words? certainly not sampo koski.

he’s been eyeing you for a quite a while now, so it’s no surprise when he practically pounces on you after you ask for his help! thinking that if it’s sampo, you’ll be fine!

makes you feel so so good from just kissing you, his gloved fingers tracing along the curves of your body as you arch into them. smirks when you squirm while his fingers dip below your skirt and teases at your inner thighs.

stuffs his fingers impatiently into your already drenched panties and dips them into your cunt. swears he could cum in his pants right now with his fingers up inside you while you cry out his name so sultrily.

rips you of your first orgasm from him, and tells you that you're only going to cum on his cock and nowhere else. kisses the tears away from your cheeks as he slides into you, the stretch practically knocks all air out of your lungs.

hisses softly when your nails dig into his shoulders, and you could see the way the veins pop on his arms at the way he's holding back his primal urges to fuck you hard. after all he wants to make sure you remember every inch of him so that you'll never want another man!

nibbles at your earlobes and neck, relishing in your embarrassment and vulnerability. angles his tip at your g-spot effortlessly, making you cry out and squirm instinctively.

you're a blabbering mess under him, consumed by sampo and sampo only. and that’s exactly how he wants it — to be the only one you crave for the rest of your lives <3

❗️❗️❗️REQUESTS ARE CLOSED 🗣️🗣️🗣️

#im gonna be honest #im not really proud of this #🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️#but hopefully it feeds your sampo obsession 😁👍🏻#🀥 lan’s writings!#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr smut #sampo #sampo x reader #sampo smut #sampo hsr #sampo hsr smut #sampo koski #sampo koski x reader

239 notes · View notes

satoruhour · 1 year ago

Text

a/n: fluff today! about 1k <3 domestic mornings (afternoons) with satoru always my fav to write about. pls support this as much as my smut works ty 💟 !! / @crysugu @hyomagiri @satohruu @shotorus @greycaelum

by now, it’s late in the afternoon so much so that you’re sure the blinds are hot to the touch from the harsh rays of Amaterasu and her blessings of another bright, hot day. it’s normal in tokyo to wake up to warm sheets and a throat desperate for some water but you’ve learned to avoid it by setting an earlier alarm — take a morning shower, make some tea and grab a book.

satoru, not so much.

he likes to whine a lot when he first stirs, a plethora of sounds that leave him at how he can’t feel your warmth in his arms (“you’d be complaining even more about the heat if i was, you idiot.”), sometimes about the morning being too bright (“mister, it is twelve thirty-four right now.”) and mostly about sweat. today he decides to do all three.

gojo mumbles something incoherent when you accidentally nudge your legs into his, a childish whine how he missed you. “baby, i’m right h—”

“yeah, but . . oh, jesus christ,” his voice is awfully loud when he complains about the rays. “why is it so bright?”

“sun—”

and like always, in classic gojo satoru fashion, he never really lets you finish.

“oh eeewwugh . . i’m so sweaty,” your boyfriend has reached full consciousness by now and if it wasn’t the morning perhaps you’d think he was drunk from how dramatic he was being.

“you literally live in a penthouse, stupid, just go take a shower in one of your bathrooms.” and you go right back to your story. at the corner of your eye you can hear him pouting, crawling up to you and resting his chin on your thighs as he reads the synopsis of your book. satoru blows a raspberry, which you can feel on your hand and the spittle from his mouth makes you sigh; you think it’s due time to give your boyfriend some attention.

“story sounds boring,” you roll your eyes and put it to the side and the reveal of his stupidly cute face almost makes you cave. there’s a deep frown on his face because you’re insulting him so early in the morning and thinking your book is better than him, when really you’re just trying your best to reach your quota before book club saturday. eventually, you do give in after reading the starting sentences of chapter 18 over and over again and frankly digesting nothing, thinking only now of his body wash on your body.

it hasn’t exactly sunk in how you manage to be dating the gojo satoru, with all his cheeky smiles and inappropriate jokes (and timing too), that you are the only one to see him like this in the morning: all not what people says he is and yet he doesn’t hide it one bit from you. why is there any need to?

it’s you.

“don’t frown, ’toru,” you mumble, fingers that were previously turning pieces of paper now smoothen out the furrow of his eyebrows and the tautness of his expression. they’re soft against his skin, and while he’d like to commend it to the body wash he uses he thinks it’s just because it’s you. every inch of you is soft but not without good measure. you still stand up for yourself and sometimes your feet walk a little too much and he can feel the callouses on the balls of your feet when you accidently shock him under the duvet.

you are soft in the way you feel against him, whether it’s when you ask meekly for a kiss and when you hum under the scorching shower water as he lathers your body. you are soft when you laugh loudly and you have to squeeze his hand as you slap his back with the other, and other times soft as you chastise him for buying yet another big stock of your favourite strawberries.

soft is strong, attractive in satoru’s book, because even when your love resembles the first breath of hypnos, it still pulls and tugs and yanks at his heart to drown in you like a siren luring a sailor; right into the depths of the darkening sea where he’d let you take him anywhere even if it meant travelling blind.

“done sulking?” you asked as a mutter, hands now cupping his cheeks that possibly hold all of gojo’s cracks and insecurities and feelings together. they bring him up gently, sweaty back now quelled momentarily with a strong draft from the windows and it’s like his soul reaches the highest point of existence like he did eleven years ago.

you kiss him gently, lips moving in tandem with his as your hands lose themselves over his body and you huff in surprise when he straddles you. long body hunching over yours as you chase his lips like riko after stingrays and you both after suguru and him after a reformed jujutsu society and—

“whew.” is all he says when he pulls away and you’re equally out of breath and gojo swiftly switches your positions. there’s a big grin on his face from the attention you finally give him, “you love me, huh?”

you roll your eyes again at the stupid, harmless comment, shutting him up effectively when you lean down again and kiss him rougher this time, feeling his wet palms span the expanse of your back and up your shirt. gojo sits up and you follow like choreography, moaning softly when he tugs you closer and suddenly you think you should’ve made yourself a cup of cold tea instead.

“i love you,” it’s a whisper against your lips and you have influenced so much of satoru that he is also soft, “i love you so goddamn much.” you nod back, pulling away lightly and you swear you see okinawa again in his irises. they look just as beautiful as the day he lost his youth and gained wisdom and you still love him the same.

“i love you more than my book, promise.” you quip, forehead against his and eyes mapping out each lagoon to pond to sea in the multiplying blues of his eyes — they seem only to do that when he’s with you.

“you better!” he laughs softly into your mouth and he can taste the tiramisu from yesterday on your lips, and you can taste his intoxicating smile. the absence of you, the sunlight and the heat doesn’t matter much to satoru now, and will settle for being soft in the sheets of cloud nine. satoru will make you forget about the tea you’ve woken up early to make and all the nuances of the characters of your book and maybe the slowly rotting strawberries (you might still eat them).

“you better . .” it’s like a plea the way he repeats it but his doubts are silenced once you mumble i do against his skin like a promise, a vow, and satoru then decides he cannot wait to see you from across an aisle.

yeah, soft laced white would look terribly beautiful on you.

♡

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru drabble #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you

537 notes · View notes

sunghoonnsupremacy · 10 months ago

Note

hey, i just wonder if you'll be able to write something like "enhas reactions when their chubby gf is insecure about her body" cause im that gf and i feel terrible today? sorry if its too much ❤️ love your works

ANGEL BABY<3

idk if you wanted this to be nsfw or fluff so i just made it nsfw for heeseung and sunghoon<3 ty for the ask annonie!! hope you feel better soon♥︎

ot7!enhypen when their gf is insecure about her body.

warnings : smut in heeseungs, sunghoons is suggestive, mentions of pregnancy, the rest is just really fluffy and cute.

words : 762

heeseung : is the sweetest bf ever. showers you with kisses and love the whole day when he hears you talk badly about yourself. "baby, you're the most perfect girl to exist. i love you and that's all that matters, yeah? just look at how pretty you look. gonna look so fucking hot with a pregnant belly when i knock you up. " he tilts your head towards the mirror where you whimper at his hips snapping against yours at a fast pace. aftercare with him is even sweeter, you feel loved and appreciated just by his words.

jay : buys you so many gifts and cuddles with you all day. he hates seeing you upset about something that's not a problem in any way so he cancels all of his plans and never leaves your side until you start to feel better. he kisses every inch and curve of your body with sweet pecks to show how much he loves you. "my beautiful beautiful girl, please don't let your insecurities get into your head sweetheart. there's no such thing as a perfect figure. its all just said to made people feel bad about themselves. i love you so much and im here to protect you from feeling that way, remember that. "

jake : his eyes widen from confusion when you ask him if he still finds you attractive, hence you gaining weight since the first time you met eachother. he immediately says yes and cups your face to passionately kiss you. "i have never stopped finding you attractive, and i never will. even when we're old and crusty, you're forever my beautiful girl and that'll never change. get those nasty thoughts out of your hear , yeah pretty? i love you."

sunghoon : the moment you pout at yourself in the mirror and say you're starting to gain weight, calling yourself ugly he doesn't hesitate to slam you against the wall and kiss you roughly. his fingers quickly unbutton your blouse and run up and down your torso. "don't say that shit again. " he presses a sloppy kiss to your chest and gropes your boobs. you whine in response at his passive aggressiveness but lean your head back at his hands sliding your skirt down. sunghoon gets down on his knees and looks up at you with a possessive glint in his eyes. "let me make you feel better, hm?"

sunoo : you furrow your eyebrows at the pillow thats been thrown at your face and your boyfriend sunoo rushing over to you. "what do you mean you think you look ugly? y/n you're the prettiest girl ive ever seen. " he pouts and pats his thighs, signalling you to sit on his lap. sunoo sighs and pulls you into a hug with a kiss on the neck. "i get how you feel. but i need you to know no matter what changes in your appearance my feelings will never change. keep those ugly words out of that pretty mouth." he grips you tighter and already helps you feel better. the two of you spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed together.

jungwon : he doesn't even react verbally, just kisses you softly. there's no need for words to be exchanged when you look into his eyes and see the glint of love in his stare. when tears start to fall from your eyes, he hugs you tightly. "it's okay princess, let it out. " he lets you cry on his shoulder and fall asleep since you're already in bed. as much as he hates to see you cry, he's aware that letting our your emotions will probably help you. don't worry. after a cuddle session, he takes you out for dinner at your favorite restaurant and buys you plushies.

niki : you two were hanging out with your friends when suddenly one of them made a joking comment about your weight. you didn't laugh, neither did niki. you're both aware of the fact you've been pretty insecure these past few days which is why he makes the friend repeat themselves when he suddenly throws a punch at their face. you gasp and stand up in shock. its pretty obvious niki didn't find it funny or amusing when he grips your wrist and takes you away from the hangout spot. he takes you to a secluded area and kisses you softly. "why'd you punch him niki..?" you whisper and he scoffs. "you know why. " he kisses you again before walking you home and playing video games with you until late at night to distract you from todays earlier events.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen niki #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons

231 notes · View notes

split-spectrum · 6 months ago

Text

Concessions

Chapter 3

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Tags: SMUT (MDNI), oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial, dubcon, noncon, Obi Wan gets chained to the wall and edged within an inch of his life

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.

☆☆☆

You should end this.

For the sake of your friendship. For the promise you'd made to help him finish the Nikkama. For your own sanity. You should really end the call. But it seems too cruel, now, after what you've done.

When you'd sent the pictures, the most you'd expected out of him had been irritation. Your goal had been to disrupt his thoughts; possibly to ruin his day with distraction, the way he'd ruined yours. Revenge may not be the Jedi way, but sometimes with Obi Wan it's so difficult not to give in to the urge to tease; to toy with him. Now, the only question left is how far you're willing to go to atone.

The right thing to do would be to shut off your commlink. To look into his glassy eyes, ignore his indecent, combative gaze, and click that impossibly merciful button. But no matter how long your finger rests at it, you can't bring yourself to press down.

Obi Wan hasn't said another word. He's hardly moved. But what little patience may have remained in his expression when he'd answered is now gone. The deep blue of his irises is hidden within the gradient of the hologram, but the black of his stretched pupils is easy to pick up when he widens his eyes accusingly. As if to say, "Well?"

He's waiting, against his will, to be put out of his misery. Cut him loose; end the call, or...

"Give me a moment."

You shut off your commlink before he can respond, then dress yourself, tying your robes with clumsy, hurried fingers, and slip quietly out into the hallway.

Trying to remain true to your promise of only a moment while keeping your footsteps soft enough not to wake any of the other Jedi in their quarters, you reach Obi Wan's door, rapping twice before he opens it. You find him in a state of half-undress, trousers fastened at his waist, but mid-section still bare. He's pulled his arms through his light undershirt, still working on wrapping it around his torso and tucking it as he steps back from the door to let you in.

"You're dressed," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady as you walk forward, closing the distance between you. "I said I would only be a moment."

He finishes tucking his shirt, the open neckline still giving ample view of the soft curls that are begging you to run your hands over his chest. "Yes, but a moment for what, you didn't quite say."

You look down his body, backing him toward the corner of a wooden dresser near the doorway. You line your hips up with his, watching as he mirrors you, either consciously or subconsciously. "You're awfully clever, Obi Wan. Let's not pretend it wasn't obvious."

His bright pink lips hang slightly open when he stares down at your hands, traveling upward. The blush begins to creep into his face. "I... couldn't possibly be so presumptuous."

Your hands find his stomach, your noses now inches apart, and the soft smirk on your face evaporates when you draw your gaze back up to his. Using your thumb to peel open his shirt, you loosen it from his waistband and slide your other hand across the warmth of his skin, feeling him shudder at the contact.

Your lips naturally gravitate towards his, when suddenly a thought stops you painfully short: This isn't a passion-soaked tryst between two lovers. This isn't the closing of a romance that's long been harbored beneath the working partnership of two friends. This is you, helping him find relief, and nothing more.

You drag your eyes away from his mouth, down to his neck, and the urge gushes to taste the skin there, too. Instead, you pull back while turning your hand down into his waistband. His eyes, which had been fixed on your face, roll to the ceiling.

"You shouldn't-" He shifts, rubbing up against the dresser. "This is hardly-" he tries, not finishing either thought.

One of his hands comes up to the small of your back, touching you with a respectful lack of weight or pressure, somewhere between holding you closer and warning you off. When you slither your palm between his legs and stroke it over the hot, dribbling length of him, though, he changes his grip. He grabs your waist and squeezes, looking down between your bodies, watching you touch him.

You hadn't realized until now just how much you'd wanted his hands on you. Feeling him grip you hard, pulling you closer as his hips start to shallowly draw up with each pull of your hand - you're starting to ache. Bending the fingers of your other hand around the fabric, you start to pull down his trousers.

His hand flies to your wrist, and you freeze. His eyes are closed, his breaths shallow. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly.

"No," he pants. "No, we- we can't."

He opens his eyes and you nearly pull away before you catch the way he's looking at you. It's clear he's being serious. But there's also... something else. A certain kind of frustration; almost desperation.

You flatten your hand, grazing it over him, watching his eyes go foggy and his brows knead tight. He doesn't let go of your wrist, but he doesn't pull away.

Suddenly, it all makes sense - why he chose you to help him in this; to be his witness.

He trusts you. And more importantly, he knows you. He knows that when he needs it, you'll find a way to bend the rules, while allowing him to keep his lofty ideals intact. Because you've done it in the past, time and time again.

Though he'd never admit it, your willingness to compromise has often been an asset to him. You could skirt the rules, blurring the edges of the safe, moral choices, while he got to feign uninvolvement. Whether intentional or not, he'd chosen you because some part of him knew this.

And lucky for him, you know a path you can take, just as you always do.

"Obi Wan, let me ask you something," you say, enjoying the unsteady breath he takes when you slide your thumb slowly up and down his shaft. "Do you trust me?"

You graze his head, then slip your hand away, and he drops your wrist, immediately gripping the edge of the dresser behind him. He gathers himself, and eventually, he nods. "Yes. Of course."

You straighten up, fixing his clothing back in place. "I hope you're not about to change your mind. Because I have an idea."

A few minutes later, after you've convinced him into one of the small cargo ships the jedi temple keeps on hand for communal use, Obi Wan is no further enlightened on the details, and he's starting to lose patience.

"And why can you not just tell me the location?"

You force an easy smile, though your stomach is buzzing with anticipation. You need him to have faith that you know what you're doing. And you do. You convince yourself that you do. "I already gave you the coordinates."

You'd sent them directly from your commlink to the navicomputer, yet Obi Wan had insisted on flying manually. He glances down at the screen in front of him, with glowing numbers and no map. "Yes, somewhere in the Federal District. Very helpful. Is there a reason you haven't chosen to be more specific?"

With a smirk, you answer, "As I said before, you're clever enough to know the answer to that."

He glances out the window, clearly suppressing a scowl, then brings his attention back to the lane in front of him, shifting a hand to adjust his speed. "In other words, I won't like it."

You press your lips together, watching the shadows roll over him as you speed through the flashing lights of Coruscant nightlife.

"I never said that." You pause. "But you certainly wouldn't approve of it."

He shoots you another look, then brings his gaze forward again as you reach your destination. He can't take his eyes away from the monitor since he's in the middle of landing, but his scowl grows more pronounced. The Center for Republic Military Operations looms in front of you.

"What in blazes are we doing here?"

"I thought you were trusting me."

He follows you down the ramp, keeping his voice low. "Yes, but the extent of my trust is rather proportional to the circumstance." He nods at a passing Coruscant Guard solider, then catches up to you. "And at the moment, they're about even."

You just smile. "Good. I can work with that."

You turn to enter the main building, Obi Wan trailing close behind. More soliders pass you on either side of the hallway as you make your way to security check-in. You walk past the manned stations and head straight to the automated keycard wall. You find the number you're looking for and enter your security code.

"You've dragged me here to work an extra shift in the detention cells?"

At that, you can't help but smile wider. You pick up the key card when it appears in the slot, then brush past him to head down the hallway. "In a manner of speaking."

You get the attention of one of the guardsmen as you near the end of the cell block. "Officer, we're conducting an investigation and we need to inspect cell 98. Please tell the other guards we are not to be disturbed."

The guard accepts your orders, assuring you they'll be passed along, and continues on his way. You swipe the keycard and, hesitatingly, Obi Wan follows you inside. You look both ways down the hall before closing the door, double-checking the lock.

"Well, if you were looking for privacy, you've certainly found it, but that wasn't-"

"I wasn't looking for privacy," you interrupt, stepping toward him and reaching out. He looks around warily, but allows you closer. You take his wrists in your hands, walking him back. "I thought about what you said."

He raises his brows, saying nothing as you clasp around him gently at first, then start to firm your grip. "I do want to help you through this."

His eyes widen and he glances behind you to the empty walls of the cell. "You don't need to-"

"Oh, I know that," you tell him sweetly, then press his arms upward.

He pushes back, shaking his head as his back hits the wall. He hisses your name in admonishment. "The cams."

"Are broken," you assure him, lifting his arms above his head as his resistance lessens. "And the cells are soundproof, as you know."

"How do you-"

You activate the switch on the wall beside his hands. "I was down here last week with Master Sinube. We had to move some prisoners and we couldn't use this cell for that reason." The binders glow softly above Obi Wan's head. "Cams won't be fixed until next week."

He follows your gaze upward and a beat of silence passes. You wait for him to protest. You wait for him to rip his arms down and push you off. But all he does is drop his gaze and let out a low breath of air. The sound he makes, sighing softly through his nose, is disapproving, but the intensity of his stare betrays what he really wants.

You press the button, locking the binders around his wrists, then stare back at him, watching the emotions swirl in his eyes. It's like you can see him traveling through all the same thoughts you'd had when this idea had come to you back in his quarters.

In any other scenario he would be giving in. He'd be at fault for not stopping you. But now... You've taken away his choice. You've lifted that burden from his shoulders. All he can do is protest. And you're ready to see if he's willing to do so, or pretend innocence as he's done so many times before.

You sink to your knees in front of him, sliding your palms down to his thighs, then running your hands up beneath his tunic. Your fingers curl at his waist, slowly dragging his clothes down, and you feel his cock twitch when you graze your thumb over the bunched fabric. You snap your eyes up, waiting from him to say the word.

His chest is rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. His eyes are piercing you with an aching, tight-jawed, guilty look. But he's silent.

Overwhelmingly, obliteratingly silent.

You finally free him, staring with an obscene lack of restraint at the glossy river of precum soaking down the side of his dick.

"Oh," you murmur softly. "Obi Wan..."

At the edge of your view, you see his eyes flutter heavily when you say his name. You gently settle your fingers around him, enjoying his soft breath of relief. Sliding your thumb up along his shaft, you spread out the slick, coating more of his skin.

This should be a utilitarian exercise in urgency. You should be using your hand to get him off, hard and fast. But you left 'should' behind a long time ago. So you slowly turn your wrist, pumping your hand a few times, not with any real pressure, just for the pleasure of running up and down the full length of him. Then you lick your palm and do it again, listening to him suck air above you.

You swallow, caught gazing up at him, and have to urge yourself to keep going. You want to go slow; wring out of him every carnal desire he's pent up for the last several months. But you're already pushing it by drawing it out this long, and part of you is still afraid he'll ask you to stop.

When you finally lower your mouth to his pulsing, straining cockhead, you suck at the tip, flicking your eyes up to look at him again. His hairline is dark with sweat and he's panting like he's losing an agonizing battle. You lock onto his gaze and flatten your tongue to lap slowly at the slit of his cock, watching his eyes widen as your mouth drops open to swirl lazy circles.

"You taste so good," you drawl before slipping your lips around him, suckling softly.

"Ah- hmm..." That earns you a sound something like a sudden, abrupt hum. Like he's trying to get ahold of himself before words begin to fall out.

You drag your lips back up to the tip, then spread them wide and push his head inside the wet heat of your mouth. He goes rigid. Closing your eyes, you focus on giving him all the warm, soft pressure he needs. You engulf his thick head like he's going to pull away at any moment, hollowing your cheeks to suck him sweetly, realizing to your dismay that you could do this for hours.

When you open your throat and take him deeper at last, he rewards you with a loud, plaintive groan. He hits the back of your throat, making you gag for a moment, tears springing to your eyes. You squeeze your legs together, soaking between them, and swallow his twitching cock. You make a small sound in the back of your throat as you wrap your hand around him and start to bob your head, one hand pushing into the back of his leg to bring him closer and the other hand drowning in your own spit, pressed tight below your mouth and running over the length of him as you find your rhythm.

"Stars-" he grinds out. You open your throat and take him even deeper, watching his mouth fall open at first, and then watching him snap it shut to look down at you, face screwed up in a pained expression. His eyes crinkle hard at the edges and his brows pin together, a deep line creasing his face between them.

"This feel good?" you pop your mouth off for a moment to ask him. "You can tell me."

You slide him back in, falling right back into your rhythm, waiting for an answer. But he says nothing. You want to be generous. You want to keep going. In fact, nothing could possibly make you want to stop. But you need to hear him say it just once. You won't be doing this again, and you can't pass up your one chance to hear him say that he liked it. That he wanted it.

You feel his cock throb beneath your tongue, but he doesn't answer. You pull away again, pumping him with your hand.

"Come on." You lower your voice. "You can say it."

His teeth are just visible when he opens his mouth, almost baring them at you. His gaze is somewhere between warning and pleading.

"Tell me it feels good, Obi Wan." You're practically suffocating him with your mouth between interrogations, now. You squeeze him with your slippery hand, lips gliding over him in punishing, repetitive strokes.

You gasp off, panting, "Does it feel good?"

"Yes," he moans.

You're practically dripping, pulsing between your legs at the hoarse groan he lets out. You can't help it. You want to hear more. You pull off again.

"Would you like me to keep going?"

His head lolls to the side and a harsh sigh escapes from deep in his chest, as if to say you know the answer. As if he's scolding you for asking it, and desperate not to reply.

So you relent, and you give him back the slick, perfect heat of your mouth until he's bucking his hips softly with each dip of your head to meet you, and you look up again to see the wrecked look on his face. His cock is pulsing, his breath wild and ragged. It's like he's ready to come, but for some reason, he's holding back.

Then you realize it. You haven't told him, and he can't ask.

"Mmf," you mumble, pulling his cock free of your mouth one last time to tell him, "You can come in my mouth, just like this. Please. Come down my throat."

"Oh, fucking-" he spits out, then seems to melt into your grip, hips falling out of rhythm as his head tilts up-

...only to snap it back down, his body curling in and shuddering violently to a stop when the door lock clicks open.

His cock pops free of your mouth, bouncing when he jerks away, and you're already standing up and scrambling to put his clothes in place before your mind can fully register what's going on.

The door swings open just as you desperately slap the button to free Obi Wan's hands and straighten your own clothes. A pair of soldiers look extremely surprised to see you.

"Master Jedi," one of them says, trading his looks between you and Obi Wan, clearly not sure whom to address first. "I... I didn't know this cell was, um, occupied."

You take a step to the side, trying to block anything unprofessional in Obi Wan's appearance. "Yes, I checked in and gave orders not to disturb us. We are... investigating the... presence of the criminal who occupied this cell last week."

"I see," the guard answers. He doesn't seem suspicious to find you here. They both just seem put-off by your jumpy demeanor.

"Yes, so if you would be so kind as to-"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, no one told us the orders. I've escorted the security technician down here to work on fixing the cams. I'm afraid you'll need to come back later."

"Oh, I..." you trail off.

"That's quite alright, gentlemen," Obi Wan finishes for you. "We can report our findings thus far. Have a nice evening."

He gestures calmly toward the door and you obediently join him in leaving, grateful for the end of the conversation.

It's a long, stiff, quiet walk down the hallway. Thankfully, you don't cross paths with anyone else on the way out. You're nearly at the other end of the hall before you dare to lean in and whisper, "We can, um... We still have the ship."

He gives you a quick head shake in response, and you can feel the frustration in it. "For thirty more minutes before Master Fisto will be looking for it. We need to have it back at the dock before the next shift."

You take a breath, realizing that wasn't a 'no'.

"Well," you say slowly; carefully. "We still have your quarters."

Back at his quarters, he can't pretend innocence anymore, but perhaps you've pushed him past that.

You wait. And wait. And he doesn't answer.

And you board the ship. And he doesn't answer.

And when you land back at the dock a few minutes later, you realize: He's given you his answer.

A/N: The next chapter might be the last; possibly two more, depending on how long it ends up. Please feel free to comment or message me to be added to the tag list. :)

Taglist: @slinkygail @wheres-mylove @millercontracting @cacti5539 @b0xerdancer-writes

<< Previous Chapter // Masterlist

#obi wan x reader smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #obiwan #obi wan x reader

137 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 2 years ago

Text

Never Let Me Go

➪the one where you and leon reunite.

Part 1

Warnings: angst, fluff, re themed topics, mentions of death, descriptions of injuries, mentions of injuries, making out, sad boy leon

Word Count: 3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The feeling of regret followed Leon for weeks.

He regretted not doing more to get you back to him, whether that was to take the fall for you or to simply go in after you, it didn’t matter. He just couldn’t believe he was right there when you lost your grip and fell into the void of rock and rubble.

Leon found himself thinking back to the length of your involvement with one another, from his first day with you to the final one. He wished he could go back years ago and ask you to be his way back then. Why he had waited five years to develop the partnership into something more, he had no idea.

He hated the fact that you could’ve been his and you could’ve been together way sooner had he pushed aside his commitment issues faster and realised just how amazing you were.

He didn’t even get the chance to tell you that he loves you and had for many years now.

The trip back home was brutal.

He didn’t say a word as he stared out the window, his heart feeling like it was about to burst at the fact that he was leaving you behind in the mess while he lived on. It would take weeks for the rescue crew to locate and retrieve your body, if they ever found it, and he almost wished they wouldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of burying you for the second time, nor could he stand the thought of not giving you a proper funeral.

He just wished it never happened. He wished he never went on this mission with you and he wished he was the one who got buried that day. He would give anything to go back to the day you were assigned the mission. He would flat out refuse it and take you away, somewhere safe and where he could protect you. Not that you needed it. You could take care of yourself just fine, but you were reckless. You didn’t care what happened to you, as long as you were able to save someone.

And if he couldn’t refuse it, he’d stop you from going after the kid. Whatever it took; tying you to a post, dragging both you and Talia away from the site, or even going in to save the kid himself. Anything to keep you alive and safe.

What was the point?

He can wish all he wants, you’re still gone and he’s still here. You’re just someone else he couldn’t save.

Seeing how Leon lost his partner, in more ways than one, he hasn’t been assigned any new missions. He was both grateful and frustrated at that. On one hand, your absence would make him lose his mind and he wouldn’t be focused like he normally was, and on the other, he was used to distracting himself by throwing himself into his job. He needed a sense of familiarity as he tried to face this new world - the one without you there to keep him grounded.

Hunnigan was becoming more and more worried about him. He wasn’t able to focus on anything, he was at home more than he was at work, and he hadn’t filed or done research on any of the cases she sent his way. It was concerning, to say the least.

She entered the briefing room to find him still there. The meeting was long over, something she was surprised he actually showed up for, yet he hadn’t moved since it was cleared. Instead of sitting where he usually did, he sat one seat over. It was where you usually sat, your place secured next to his in the back row.

His legs were stretched out and resting on the back of the chair in front of him, his hands on his stomach as he played with a ring. He found it in your office when he went in to ask the staff to stop cleaning the space out. Well, he didn’t really ask. No, he told them to get the fuck out and to close the door behind them.

He stayed there for a good portion of the morning, sitting at the desk he had watched you organise too many times to count. After memorising every square inch of the room, he was about to get up and leave when something caught his eye.

On the top shelf of the desk, next to a framed picture of the two of you - one where you were both covered in dirt and grime and dust but still smiling because you were together - was a ring he had seen you wear many times. When he asked you about it, you told him it had no meaning to you, it was just pretty and something you found on sale.

It was a silver band with a few lines carved into it, and you only took it off when you went on missions.

Leon grabbed it without thinking twice and left your office, turning the light off and closing the door behind him.

He was twirling it around his fingers when Hunnigan walked up to him, a folder in her hand. “Kennedy,” she said in both a greeting and warning. She felt for the guy, but was also trying to do her job and he was making it more difficult than it needed to be. “The meeting is over. What are you still doing here?”

Leon didn’t look up at her as he pulled the ring off of his finger. It was far too small for him and only reached just past the tip of his finger. Maybe he could find a chain to attach it to.

Ingrid was about to speak again when he finally answered her. “I’m reminiscing,” his tone was cold and sarcastic, so unlike how he usually sounds.

She clears her throat before opening the folder and trying to ignore the fact that Leon had yet to look at her. “I have a new case for you,” she says, reading over the file before continuing, “It’s one that requires both you and your partner to attend.”

Leon looked up at her and the dark glint in his eyes had her shoulders tensing. After trying to get him to look at her all morning, she wished she would’ve known what she would be met with when he finally did. He stops twirling the ring around his finger and holds it in the palm of his hand. “My partner is dead,” he muttered, glaring at her as he leaned up in the chair.

Ingrid knew he would never hurt her, so maybe that was why his harsh words didn’t make her back down. “Just come with me,” she says and turns around. “We’re going over it somewhere more private.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed at her retreating figure. He breathed heavily through his nose before pocketing the ring and standing up, ignoring the way his lower back ached from how long he was sitting for.

He followed her down the hall and into the meeting room, letting out a huff of annoyance when the door closed behind him. “How is this more private?” He asked as they made eye contact.

Ingrid just shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “It’s not, really,” she answered. “I just wanted to formally introduce you to your partner.”

Leon refrained from rolling his eyes. “I already told you, my partner is dead-”

The side door opened and in walked someone he never thought he’d see again.

The words die on his tongue as the person looks up and at the woman beside him. “Hey, I think I left some of the papers back at the-”

Your eyes meet his and your grip on the folder falters. Almost instantly, Leon’s blue irises are covered by tears and you let go of the file completely. It falls to the floor, making Hunnigan bite back a cry of shock as she spent damn near all morning putting that together. She lets it slide as she quietly excuses herself and leaves the room.

Within seconds, Leon crosses the room and closes the distance between you. His arms wrap around your waist while yours grip his shoulders, your legs closing around his hips. You let out a happy sob when his arms tightened around you, his hands grasping at you with a desperation you had never seen or felt before.

Even the feeling of your shirt getting caught in the stitches on your hip wasn’t enough to pull you away from him. Leon feared that if he were to let go for even a second, you’d be gone again and he’d be alone. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that a life without you was one he could not live in.

Your tears dampen his shirt, making the fabric appear even darker. His own fall from his eyes and gather in your hair, his nose inhaling the scent of the vanilla soap that quickly became your signature smell.

He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not, but he knew he never wanted to wake up. It was such a difference to the countless nightmares he’s had since he lost you, each one being a replay of what actually happened to you. He would happily live in this dreamland with you forever. He never wanted to witness you dying ever again.

You died.

How were you even here?

Leon pulled away, using nearly all of his self control to do so, and looked at each inch of your face. Your bottom lip had a cut going through it, your cheek was a horrid shade of green and purple, and your left eye was bloodshot. “How?” He asked desperately. “I don’t understand-how are you-”

You just shake your head, your hands stroking his hair a few times before you bring him into a tear-tasting kiss. Leon kisses you back with everything he has, his legs moving before his mind has a chance to catch up with them.

He blindly reaches for the handle to the door and when he finds it, he stumbles into the break room with your hands tightly gripping his hair. His teeth clash with yours before they tug on your bottom lip, careful as to not rip the cut open.

He sets you down on one of the tables and one of your hands leaves his hair, your palm flat against the surface behind you as your lips messily meet. Your legs tighten around his middle and tug him even closer as his hands caress the sides of your face, his lips still locked with yours.

You pull away for air and have little time to react before Leon’s lips attack your neck. He kisses every inch of your skin as if it were the last time he would ever be able to. He was still in disbelief that it was really you in front of him. You, with your legs wrapped around him. You, with your hand tugging on his hair in the way you know he loves. You, with his saliva coating various areas of your neck as his lips made work of your skin.

Your shirt falls off your shoulder and it was then he saw the bandage that covered a large portion of your collarbone.

It really was you. A broken and beaten version of you, but still you.

He lifts one of his hands and lets his fingers gently brush over the white bandage, his eyes full of different emotions. Love. Anger. Guilt. Relief. “What happened?” He asked quietly, tracing the edges of the white fabric.

You look down at him, confused as to why he stopped kissing your neck. Your eyes soften when you see the guilt swimming in his and you gently place your hands against the sides of his face, tilting his head up so you could talk to him face to face. “I’m okay,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his. “I promise. I’ll tell you everything, I just need you. I need to be close to you.”

Leon pulled back, his hand moving up to brush your messy hair away from your face. “I love you,” he says with no hesitation. He should’ve said the three words years ago, maybe then his heart would’ve been able to grieve differently after he thought you died.

It didn’t matter. You were here, with him, and he was never letting you go.

Your lips quiver as you take in his words, your eyes flickering between his. You search for any indication that he was lying but find nothing but the truth. A grin breaks out on your lips as you gently tug on his hair. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that,” you whisper and watch as relief floods his eyes. “I love you, too.”

Leon laughs quietly before he presses two chaste kisses to your lips, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt and tugging it upwards.

“So, as I fell, the ground opened up and I landed on the floor of some underground lab. The rubble and debris piled in and covered the way back up, so I was left to find another way out,” you say, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of Leon’s neck. His arms were wrapped around your middle as he gently swayed the two of you on your office chair.

The door was closed and the blinds were shut, the only light coming from the small lamp you had on your desk. It felt like you were in your own little world, like the other agents outside your office weren’t hurriedly gathering information for their next missions, like Hunnigan wasn’t a few doors down reorganising the file you dropped.

With your legs draped over his thighs and your side pressed to his front, neither of you cared that you were still at work. Too much time had passed since you last saw each other and you weren’t about to waste anymore. “While I was looking around, I found file after file about the illegal testing they were doing in the village. It was everything we could’ve possibly needed to shut these guys down for good,” you continue, your eyes casted down as you replayed your experiences in your head.

Leon looked up at you, his hand absentmindedly tracing shapes on the skin of your thighs that your skirt didn’t cover. His eyes trailed all over you, from the bandage peeking out from under your shirt, to the multiple marks he kissed into the skin of your neck, to your swollen lip.

Scratching at his scalp before smoothing your hand back over it, you turn to face him. “I grabbed everything I could and tried to find a way out, but the next thing I knew…I was being cornered by the scientists who had survived the collapse. I bargained with them for a while before they let me go, but not without dislocating my shoulder and threatening my life a couple times,” Leon’s eyes darkened at that, his jaw clenching as he stopped swaying and tightened his hold on you. “I was kept down there for a few days before the rescue team finally found me, as well as all the evidence, and then the scientists were cuffed and taken out.”

Leon shifted slightly, his hand going back to running up and down your thigh. “They told me that they couldn’t find your body,” he mumbled, making your heart ache at the sadness that dripped from his voice.

“I was put under witness protection for a week or so after I was brought back home,” you say just as quietly.

His eyes met yours again. “You have no idea how many times I threatened to go back to that place and look for you myself. They were giving me nothing to go off of. They just said you were probably crushed by all the rubble and that it could take weeks to recover your remains-” he cut himself off as a dry sob nearly slipped past his lips.

Your eyes sting as you push his hair up and press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so sorry,” you mumbled against his skin. “I wanted to come back to you every second of every day, but they wouldn’t let me. They said it was too soon, too dangerous and to wait a few more days. I just had to hold onto the thought of seeing you again. It’s what kept me going.”

Leon looked down at his hand as it neared the hem of your skirt. “I thought I lost you,”

“I’m right here,” you say and turn his head so he was looking back at you. “I’m here and I’m never leaving your side. Not until you tell me to.”

He shakes his head, his hand falling from your thigh as he fumbles around in the pocket of his jeans. You furrow your brows as he pulls out a small object. He held your ring in between his fingers and lifted it up so you could see it.

You let out a small laugh, your hand quickly wiping away your tears as you looked between the ring and him. “My ring,” you hum, returning your hand to his hair. “I was wondering where that went.”

Leon stayed still as he grabbed your hand and slid the ring on your finger. “Marry me,” he said quietly and you could’ve heard a pin drop as silence took over the space of your office.

You shifted on his lap and moved his head so you could look him in the eyes. He was serious. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said again and held your hand in his. “I don’t want to go that long without you ever again. I can’t.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief before cradling his face in your free hand. “Yes,” you say, more tears gathering in your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say and wrap your arms around him, pressing your body impossibly closer to his. “I’ll marry you.”

I don't have a tag list but thank you for the support on part 1 @taken-by-the-wind <3

#leon s kennedy #leon re #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil #resident evil 4 remake

741 notes · View notes

fizzy-blood · 20 days ago

Text

Jane the Killer Headcanons🔪🖤[NSFW]

Shout out to @emo-clown-fucker for telling me to follow my dreams🥰 (I asked if I should write for Jane and they said yes.) So I hope you enjoy! GN s/o but I wrote it as AFAB ^_^

Warning: 18+/NSFW content!! [Bondage, strap-on, actually kinda fluffy at points?]

I'M FINALLY WRITING FOR OUR GIRL KISSER QUEEN. THIS WOMAN MADE ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY AT THE AGE OF 9.

It's really only fitting if I write some stuff for her 😌

So let's get started by saying that she is... Really... Sweet during sex?

She's very gentle for the first few minutes and will make sure you're actually enjoying yourself.

She's also normally on top and is a bit more dominant but she's fine with you being on top of you really wanna try that!

Random thingy but I actually headcanon her as demisexual (just felt the need to say that idk)

She also has a thing for tying you up (if you're ok with it of course, she doesn't wanna make you uncomfortable)

She'd also give you a safe word or make you do a simple action like tapping her hand twice so you'd be able to tell he to slow down or stop.

BACK TO THE TOPIC OF BONDAGE!

Jane would never use rope unless you'd rip anything else she has to tie you up with. She actually finds it harder to tie knots with and thinks the texture is bad.

She actually likes using ribbon if she can. (It's soft and pretty and easy to tie)

She has also probably gagged you at some point! (Jane owns a ball gag for when she normally does that kind of stuff but sometimes will use a clean sock if she can't find it)

Jane also enjoys it when you squirm around when she eats you out. (Takes it as a sign of you feeling good... Which... It is!)

Now, I normally do a dick description but... She doesn't have one of those... So I'll just describe her body type and stuff... :3

She's about 5'9, a bit chubby and is generally pretty curvy (also hip dips 🤤)

I'm not good with explaining breast sizes but I think she'd be a C-Cup (did I do that right? I don't fully know... I feel like I should know how tit sizes work☹️)

she doesn't really shave that often (HNGGG) but her body is also mostly burned so a good chunk of her is just... Hairless? (Mostly on her left side)

But she's fine with shaving what is there if you really really want her to..

She also normally keeps her mask on during sex and takes it off immediately after.

Just got so used to wearing it that she sometimes forgets it's on..

Also! She owns a couple different strap-ons! The one she normally uses on you is black and about... 7 inches? She has some that are smaller or bigger but that's the one she picks 80% of the time.

It's mostly smooth but it has a couple bumps near the tip for texture. (It's also made with softer materials so it really doesn't hurt 💖)

Aftercare!!

Again, takes off her mask immediately after. It helps her untie you and make sure you're ok physically.

She asks how you're doing and then asks if you need anything.

Jane probably is strong enough to carry you but if she can't she'll just help you walk by putting her arms around you and keeping you propped up.

So she'll help you get to the bathroom for a nice hot shower or warm bath if that's what you want!! (she's one of the few people in the mansion with a bathroom attached to her room so don't worry about anyone seeing you)

She'll make you a tea or grab you a glass of water if you feel thirsty or see if she can find you a quick snack if you feel hungry.

If not? She'll lay down on the bed and pull you against her, having your head resting against her chest or lap.

Jane also has a nice voice and will softly hum till one of you falls asleep <3

11/10. I want her.

I had so much fun with this? Hello? Uhm... I hope you enjoyed reading this!! I love Jane so much and she rarely gets written on here so... Yay!! Did I feel you guys well? Anyways... My ask box is open so feel free to send an ask or idea or request! Please reblog because likes don't do shit in this place and once again, I hope you enjoyed!!

-Fizz

(Black dividers by @sister-lucifer , also I think the star ones are by then as well?)

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jane the killer #jane the killer x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta headcanons #jane the killer headcanons #jane the killer smut #jane the killer is probably a lesbian

42 notes · View notes

gldrushsblog · 2 months ago

Text

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Maybe the gun wielding stranger with a penchant for dramatic entrances can be her chance of survival other than her worst nightmare.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: This chapter contains intense scenes with threatening behavior, discussions of violence and murder, and emotional distress.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: oc is SILENCED, jk is a jerk and likes to break in

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: ty ty ty for the amazing support you guys have been showing this!! It means more to me than you know. Also, I kinda don't wanna post the new chapter on wattpad until I have posted all the already published ones here so it can be in sync. Let me know what you guys think about that?

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie (let me know if you wanna be added in the tag list)

CHAPTER 3: AURORA

He was here.

In her goddamn living room, sitting on her couch like he owned the place.

The realization hit her slowly, like the creeping cold of winter sneaking under the door. She hadn’t heard him come in. She hadn’t seen him approach. But there he was, every inch of him radiating danger.

He was here to fulfill the promise of something dangerous.

He was here for her.

She didn't need to look through her memories of last night to recognize him. The inky voids that were placed where eyes normally are were proof enough, and so was the horrifying calmness he carried with himself surrounding the small space of her apartment.

Her lips parted, her breath shortened and her unblinking eyes went all over him, his gloved hands that were skilled for taking lives-she was sure of it- resting flatly on his broad, muscled thigh clothed with the black of his pants, his shirt of a softer fabric soft yet unyielding, strained against the hard planes of his chest. The tailored suit jacket stretched over biceps that seemed too solid, too real, for this moment to be anything but a nightmare and there was the face she hadn't properly grasped in the chaos of last night, now all sharp lines, cool beauty, and unsettling stillness.

Maybe the devil wasn't a short red man with thorns and tail at all. Maybe he wore tailored suits and silver piercings.

"Inhale. And sit down."

His voice- a calm authority, snapped her out of her jumbled thoughts. She wasn't sure how much she could take of being the sole recipient of her attention.

"What.. H-How did you-you get in?" She managed, not bothering to cringe at how small and powerless she sounded in her own home.

"Sit down." It was an order this time considering how his bored face hardened and his tone shifted. "We have lots to talk about." His gloved finger flexed briefly over the gun holstered at his side.

That gesture alone was enough for her to obey before her mind could catch up and reluctantly sit across him while trying her best not to display how wobbly her knees were getting. Even as she sat across from him, every fiber of her being told her to flee. But something in his stillness kept her rooted to the spot.

"Answer me now. How-how did you get in?" she asked again, though as much as she tried to hide it, there was a tremor in her voice.

"I don't respond well to questions phrased like that. Try again."

Her frustration bubbled up, cutting through the haze of fear. "Are you kidding me-" his fingers flexed against the barrel of his gun again in response, making her narrow her eyes at him.

"You're here to kill me too, aren't you?Because I saw what you did. I saw you murder that innocent man." She was surprised at how collected she sounded.

He leaned back, slow and deliberate, his gaze heavy on her as he scoffed under his breath. "If I wanted to kill you, I could have done that there and then. Just another body for my men to dispose of." And there went that collected front of her down the drain. But his expression remained unchanged, bored almost, as if this entire exchange was nothing more than a chore to him.

"But I didn't. And if it helps, the innocent man was not as innocent as you naively assumed." His voice was colder, with a mocking tilt to it.

She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the wave of unease rising inside her. "So? What are you, the law?"

"My word is. And he went against it." He said simply.

Her lips parted again in an act of disbelief. There was something so twisted about this man. And she had a feeling that didn't stop only at him being a murderer.

"T-That is not going to stop me from reporting you to the police and neither will you." She said with a determined look even though her actions were hesistant when she slowly and carefully rose up from her spot.

And he clearly saw right through it. "Need a drive there?" He leaned forward, his presence suddenly much heavier as he spoke out with an amused tilt of his head.

This was the face of a man who knew he won't be punished for his crime. This was the face of a man who knew that, that was all beneath him. Just who the hell was this man?

"What is wrong with you?" She conferred the answer was: Everything.

"Why are you doing this? Why did you do any-any of that?" There was a frustration in her voice now that caused him to rise up from the couch as well. And she could swear he was tenfold more intimidating now that he was displaying the giant of a height he had, almost causing her to flinch.

"I don't owe you an explanation for my actions while you do owe me something for meddling in my business." He replied, the shadows deepening on his face

"Meddling in your business? You're the one who broke into my bakery.." and now in my apartment. "And made it your place of crime."

"Your little bakery will be nothing but ashes on the ground if you don't stop talking back and resisting to my word." He eyes flashed with irration as he spoke out with a harshness, taking a step closer to her but still maintaining a distance he looked distasteful to cross.

While all she could do was stay frozen in her spot with her hands curling in ball of fists by her side as his eyes told her to even though the audacity of this man to threaten the place she made a living from raged her to no end.

"Now back to what's important." He said, releasing a quiet breath.

"That being your silence that you owe me. You'll not speak about anything you saw with anyone. And I'm just saving you from the embarrassment when I say that you drop the police bullshit."

She swallowed a hard lump down her throat, not liking how he stared at her, how his words spit out like venom. Of course, she felt a surge of anger at how he was ordering her around, but it was tempered by fear at last. "I-I can't just forget what I saw.."

He cocked an eyebrow at her words. "But you will. Or I'll have to resort to unpleasant ways to make you forget. Would you want that?"

She instantly shook her head at that. She couldn't digest how this man had her so pathetic at his non-existent mercy. It was a pill she had to swallow, of course, but that didn't mean she was gonna do it without an attempt to choke it out.

Her mind raced. The face of an familiar old man with a nasty grin flashed in front of her. Mr. Choi had been tightening the noose around her neck for months. The bills have been piling up, and if she didn't speak up now, maybe she would have to return back home. This could be her only chance. Yet the rational part of still considered the insanity of bargaining with a man who just threatened her life.

She swallowed hard. It's a terrible idea. A dangerous gamble.

But when has she ever listened to the annoying rational part of her head?

"I- I want something in return for my silence." She said with a newfound determination, her chin tipped up. "My bakery's landlord... Mr. Choi... he’s been extorting me for months. If you want my silence, I need your help." Even with the clarity in her demand, she couldn't help but feel like it was as if she was begging. The pulse racing with fear convinced her that she was begging.

Gods, what is wrong with me?

That seemed to twist something in him as he stepped closer with a sinister calmness. "You think you're in a position to make demands to me?" His voice was laced with a malicious intent, making her do everything in her power to not squirm in her spot as he towered above her.

Yet she stood her ground even if the fear threatened to overwhelm her. "It's only fair that I get something in return." She said with a surprisingly steady voice, trying her best to hide the desperation that was eager to be out.

Please, let this work. Please don’t let this end with my body laying in my own blood.

A muscle of his jaw ticked. "Being bold now, are we?" he said. "But let me make one thing clear: you're not in a position to make demands. You're in a position to be grateful, I'm not killing you right now."

He paused, his eyes glinting with intensity and some sort of interest. "However... I'll consider your request. Not because I owe you anything, but because it amuses me to do so. And maybe you'll prove useful enough to warrant a little... leeway."

He turned to leave, then looked back over his shoulder. "Until next time, baker girl."

And he was gone, leaving her heart thumping and her world shaky.

To be continued..

→ Previous chapter

#bts au #bts fanfic #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook × you #jungkook × reader #mafia romance #mafia au #dark romance #mafia books #bts scenarios #fanfic #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr

42 notes · View notes

seungrem · 9 months ago

Text

Bang Chan x m!reader

‘Life Without You’ - Part 1 of 2

anon request - masterlist - Part 2

summary: Male!reader and Chan share a special connection in their teen years, though a difference in goals and family disapproval cuts their time short. Years later, someone attempts to pick up the pieces they both had left behind.

( overview: student & idol chan, student & non-idol reader, breakup, right one, wrong time trope )

( slight mentions: homophobia and family issues, arguing, and closeted feelings )

ty anon for being my first request! Very happy to write for you. <3 Part 2 soon!

emoji code:

+🫧 (angst)

🌿 (around 4k words, part 1 of 2)

☁️ (means y/n)

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The sun hung high toward the west, glistening above thin clouds. Chan rested his head on the school desk as he watched those clouds linger past the window. With only a few minutes of class left, the boy tuned out whatever the teacher was saying. He thought about the boy he was going to be meeting after school- the one with the beautiful smile and soft touch.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the sound of books closing and zippers sliding, him quickly picking his head up and packing his bag. The bell rang, the students hurrying to depart as it was now the end of the day. Chan was the last to leave as he threw his backpack around his shoulder and patted down his school uniform. He moseyed out of his class, catching eyes with that extra-special boy.

☁️ rested his back against the wall right outside of Chan’s classroom, eyeing the boy up as he smiled. Chan smiled flirtatiously as the boy in front of him gave him a sudden boost of energy. It was almost as if ☁️ was the sunlight to Chan’s plant cell, or whatever the teacher was saying. He approached ☁️ and greeted him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” ☁️ replied slyly, his back still against the wall as Chan placed his body only inches from ☁️’s.

“Ready?”

☁️ nodded, the two then strolling side by side down a hallway of tans and browns. They stepped outside into the crisp air as clouds began to block the sun. ☁️ and Chan settled at the nearest picnic table, many other students having already done the same. Talking amongst themselves or doing schoolwork, they paid no mind to the two boys. Chan looked around nervously, though he always did this when around ☁️ in public. The two sat across from each other, ☁️ placing his head into his hands.

This pattern of sitting outside after school became tradition as the two boys had been spending a lot of time together recently. Having met through a group project, the two very obviously felt something for each other. After becoming friends, that feeling was more than platonically mutual. Both were scared to fully act on it, the fear of what others would think restraining them.

The two talked for a while as the clouds departed from the sky, the sun’s rays now shining through the tree branches above. Chan periodically lookedaround, resulting in ☁️ becoming irritated.

“Why do you always do that? Am I that embarrassing to be around?” His tone didn’t change as to not start an argument.

“I always tell you this- I’m not embarrassed to be around you, I’m just..”

“Paranoid?” ☁️ said without much emotion, trying not to roll his eyes. Chan sighed and shook his head, looking down at the table. The two argued about the idea of them together in public pretty often.

“It’s fine, though. Do you wanna go?” ☁️ grabbed his backpack strap and threw the bag over his shoulder. Chan did the same, the two waking together out of the school’s patio and down the sidewalk. With ☁️ to his left, Chan discreetly analyzed his friend’s face and figure.

“You’re going to come over, right?” Chan asked, him still looking over to his friend.

“Would you like me to?” ☁️ responded, almost sarcastically. He kept his head pointed forward.

Chan sighed and grabbed the boys arm. He wrapped ☁️’s hand around his bicep as they continued down the empty sidewalk.

“Of course I would.”

“Hmph.” ☁️ scoffed at Chan, though he couldn’t help but smile afterward. He wouldn’t glance over to Chan until they finally arrived to Chan’s house. ☁️ let go of Chan’s arm to walk up the steps behind him, the two stepping in and taking their shoes off. Chan ran over to the kitchen where his mom was, which he usually did to greet her and let her know that his friend was over. The two then ran upstairs, holding hands as they did so. Walking into Chan’s room, ☁️ placed himself on top of Chan’s bed as his friend closed the bedroom door. Chan walked over to the boy, pushing his shoulder back and softly falling next to him on the bed. ☁️ smiled and wrapped an arm around Chan’s neck as Chan pulled the two closer to each other. Now lying on their sides, the two rested while holding each other. Chan placed a kiss on ☁️’s forehead as he laid with his eyes open, admiring the beauty of his friend.

He thought about the idea of him becoming something more with ☁️, dismissing it as he thought about his future. He didn’t want to address his goals as it would probably cause the two to split permanently, and he enjoyed ☁️’s company too much. He knew that the both of them would be devastated, more so himself.

The boy in front of Chan fell asleep in his arms, Chan using this opportunity to replace his arm with a pillow. He draped a warm blanket over ☁️, watching as the boy rested peacefully.

☁️’s eyes opened to see Chan laying on his stomach beside him, typing on his computer. The window’s blinds were closed and a lamp light was on. ☁️ darted upwards.

“How long have i been asleep?”

“A good hour.” Chan grabbed ☁️’s shoulder and pulled the boy onto his back, cuddling him close.

“You should probably head home.. you know how your family gets.” Chan looked down and smiled as he climbed over ☁️, resting his face into his neck. ☁️ laughed at the tingly feeling and moved his hand down Chan’s shirt.

“I thought you wanted me to go home.”

Chan lifted his head. “I don’t want you to go home. But you should. I’ll walk you.”

“It’s fine, I don’t think my family is very fond of you.”

“Oh, why?”

“..No reason in particular.” ☁️ looked at Chan, who looked taken aback, as though he was offended. ‘He would be more upset if he knew why..’ ☁️ thought to himself.

He lifted Chan’s arm from his body as the two climbed off of the bed. ☁️ stretched and grabbed his backpack, Chan shutting his computer screen.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ announced as he threw his backpack over his shoulder.

“At least let me walk you out.” Chan sighed with an emotionless expression across his face. He opened the room door, motioning the boy to walk through first.

The two made their way back downstairs, ☁️ opening the front door and stepping outside. Chan leaned against the door as ☁️ walked out, ☁️ waving behind him as he walked down the porch steps. Chan waved back, though ☁️ had already turned around and made his way home.

The sky was transitioning from orange to purple as ☁️ walked home. There was a slight breeze again, causing him to shiver slightly.

☁️ approached his home, sighing. Just as he reached for the door knob, the door swung open, his mother on the other side.

“☁️, where were you?”

“I was at a friend’s house. You know I always hang out with friends after school.”

“Which friend?”

“Mom..”

“Which one, ☁️?”

☁️ walked through the door, walking past his mother as he dropped his bag down. He hesitated to answer her question.

“It was Chris.”

“☁️ you know how I feel about that behavior.”

“I wasn’t implying anything, he’s just my friend.”

“I don’t believe you.”

☁️ sighed and took his shoes off, turning his back to his mom. He grabbed his bag and turned to face her again.

“I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore.”

“Mom, I don’t see him that way..”

“You can like boys when you have your own home, not while you’re in mine.”

☁️ remained silent and nodded, turning around and walking to his room. He shut the door and climbed into bed, the weight of his emotions rendering him immobile.

Chan and ☁️ had been “seeing” each other for the past few months, but it’s been very hard to move past this awkward phase they were in. It could be because of ☁️’s family and their beliefs, or it could be because Chan thinks that he has an image that he must maintain. Regardless, a decision had to be made soon, which stressed ☁️ out.

Hopeless and tired, ☁️ skipped dinner and decided to get ready for bed early. He quickly fell asleep after changing and brushing his teeth.

☁️ walked down a school staircase alone, though he quickly spotted the boy he was meeting. The boy smiled and waved from a table in the cafeteria. Smiling and waving back, ☁️ took a deep breath as he walked over to him.

Chan’s best friend since, well, forever, Felix knew everything about him. This included ☁️ and Chan’s “friendship.”

After asking to speak to the boy privately, ☁️ sat down at Felix’s table. The two of them sat alone while everyone in the surrounding tables disregarded the world around them.

“Thanks for doing this, Felix. I wanted to talk about Chris.” ☁️ placed his bag beside him and looked at the boy, who had a small carton of strawberry milk in front of him.

“Sure, what about him?”

“I know that you know about us, and we’ve been very stagnant in our relationship. We aren’t.. anything, but I used to hope that we would eventually be.. something. Does that make sense?”

Felix nodded his head in understanding, looking around him as he thought to himself.

“Where would you say you two stand, as of right now?”

“I’m not sure, we just hang out sometimes. And spend time alone occasionally.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, ☁️ not sensing judgement from his action, but rather a suggestive thought.

“So like, a situationship..?”

“No, it’s.. more intimate than that. I think.”

Felix nodded again, looking down at the table.

“I don’t think you should take it personally, Chris has a lot going on. He recently got recruited into an entertainment company, and plans on becoming an artist.”

That news shocked ☁️ as he thought to himself. “Why wouldn’t he tell me that..”

“I’m sure he planned to, and I’m also sure it’s difficult to choose between his dream and a life with you.”

☁️ felt his throat become dry. He was upset that Chan would hide something so important. Realizing that they haven’t communicated their future with each other, he knew they had always been happy to just be in each other’s presence.

Felix watched as ☁️ became lost in his own thoughts. He felt bad for both ☁️ and Chan. The two had so much love to give, especially Chan, as he’s told Felix in private. Chan also informed Felix about ☁️’s family and their beliefs, Chan also ranting to Felix about the family’s odd dislike of him. Felix knew that fate had other plans for the pair, but kept it to himself.

“You should really talk to Chan. I’m sorry he didn’t tell you about this.”

☁️ looked up from Felix as the boy dragged him out of his thoughts. “Thanks Felix. I appreciate it.”

Felix nodded with a sympathetic smile, ☁️ then grabbing his bag and taking off to his next class.

Chan took his time to pack up as the bell rang. The last one to leave the class, he saw ☁️ across the hallway, except his expression was different today. The boy didn’t have a playful smile as he usually did, but rather a gloomy gaze. Chan approached him, stopping only until they were a few inches apart.

“Chan.” ☁️’s tone wasn’t aggressive or annoyed, but rather the opposite. His voice was soft and precise, causing Chan to become hesitant.

“You okay?”

“Yes, I spoke to Felix today. He told me about your recruitment into an agency.”

Chan didn’t say anything and looked from ☁️’s face to the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that? I didn’t even know you were interested in music.”

Chan took a few steps back from ☁️, avoiding eye contact.

“We should walk and talk.”

☁️ pushed off of the wall and threw his backpack over his shoulder. ☁️’s eyes never leaving the Chan’s, the two began down the hallway in silence.

Annoyed this time, ☁️ asked again.

“Is that why you didn’t wanna be more.”

“There’s more to it, ☁️.” Chan replied almost immediately. ☁️ stopped walking, though Chan took a few steps forward and turned around.

“Like what?” ☁️ raised an eyebrow at him.

“Your family. The people here at school. My agency. I can’t..” Chan took a pause. “I need to protect my reputation to become an artist. I can’t afford to have rumors spread. And your family wouldn’t let us be together, anyway.”

“So you didn’t plan to commit at all?” ☁️ was frustrated, this frustration leaking into the tone of his voice. Chan looked around and sighed aggressively.

“☁️, please don’t put the fault on me. If everything was perfect, I’d want to be with you, forever. But everything isn’t perfect. You also need to think- you could get in so much trouble if your family found out about us. I don’t want that..”

☁️’s heart sank, knowing that he was, at least somewhat, right. If they lived in a perfect world, people wouldn’t see them differently. If they lived in a perfect world, they could be together, and without worry. Tears formed in his eyes as he quickly wiped them away.

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I don’t regret.. my time with you. I just don’t…” Chan paused again, not sure how to word what he was trying to say without hurting ☁️’s feelings more.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to explain yourself any more.”

A few students walked past the two, Chan grabbing ☁️ by the arm and softly pulling him against the wall so they wouldn’t see him upset.

“I didn’t want to make you upset, okay?” Chan wiped ☁️’s face with his shirt.

“I was just really scared to tell you. I was avoiding it and ended up making you upset anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I had my expectations too high.” ☁️ was now the one avoiding eye contact with Chan.

“When you said that I should be realistic, especially about my family, I realized..”

“I didn’t say it like that..” Chan said with a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. The two stood in silence for a moment, Chan still in front of ☁️ against the wall. ☁️ noticed Chan’s eyes shimmering in the sunlight, as if he held a vast ocean inside.

“I guess this means we’ll go our separate ways, then?” ☁️ wiped his face with his sleeves one last time. Chan grabbed the boys hand.

“I’ll respect any decision that you make.”

“It’s not like I really have options, Chris.”

“Oh, yea.. Sorry.”

☁️ let go of Chan’s hand and moved off of the wall. The two stared at each other for a while, admiring each other for what seemed like the last time. ☁️ watched as rays of sunshine hit Chan as he looked from ☁️ to the floor. ☁️ could tell Chan was defeated, though, so was he.

“I guess.. I’ll see you around then.” ☁️ looked over to Chan expectantly, the boy nodding and muttering a ‘yea.’

“Would you at least let me walk you home?”

“I don’t think I need you to. Thanks, though.”

☁️ turned his back to Chan and walked to the staircase, slowly making his way down. He didn’t turn around, but assumed Chan stood motionless, watching him walk away. ☁️ had a lot of thoughts going through his mind, but tuned them out as he stepped outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, though the wind was heavy and cold, for springtime anyway.

“Did you stop talking to that boy?” ☁️’s mother walked into his room, where the boy laid flat on his bed once again.

“Yes, we don’t talk anymore. Partially because of you.”

“I’m just trying to protect and teach you.”

“Protect me from what? And teach me what?” ☁️ spoke calmly, rising up slowly to face his mother. He was already agitated.

“Teach you that this.. behavior.. is not okay. Liking boys is not okay, ☁️. You do whatever you want outside of this house, but you will not bring that here to your family. I love you and I’m trying to show you that there is a better world out there for you.”

☁️ mentally rolled his eyes as his mother continued to curse his existence. He felt just as bad for her as he did for himself, though. She truly did mean well in her mind, though she couldn’t see that there was a world beyond her point of view, too.

“I’ll.. look into it.” ☁️ looked at his mother with a blank expression, him just wanting her to leave at this point. She nodded emotionlessly and closed his room door.

As he laid his head back down, his door opened again. He didn’t pick his head up, but knew it was his father by the way he threw the door open.

“☁️.”

“Yes?”

“I know you already talked to your mom. I expect better from you moving forward.”

“Okay.”

☁️ laid on his back as he stared at his ceiling, his dad slowly closing his room door. ☁️ sighed as he curled up around his pillow, allowing his emotions to finally consume him. The ocean in his eyes began to shimmer this time, with small streams leaking out. Flowing along the side of his face, gentle streams became harsh rivers.

☁️ wandered school halls and streets alone in the months following his departure from Chan. Now the first one out of his classes, ☁️ quickly left the school and walked home everyday. This was to please his family, but more-so to avoid Chan and his friends.

When the two would catch the other’s eye in the halls, ☁️ would look away. He didn’t want to be reminded of the time they spent, or wasted, together.

No contact was made a bit easier by the block button below Chan’s number. Social media became less interesting, not that Chan ever used it anyways.

Graduation approached quickly. ☁️ celebrated with his family before preparing to leave abroad for higher education.

By the end of the school year, ☁️ managed to make new acquaintances while also keeping busy. Chan was still rummaging through his mind, though, making a mess of his thoughts. ☁️ was no longer upset, but still held on to a bit of the love he wanted to give Chan. The boy now had his own ambitions and goals, focusing solely on working towards them without distractions.

The move came quickly as ☁️ was prepared to start fresh. A new country, with new people, and new opportunities. Eventually, the Chan that made a mess in ☁️’s mind began to fade out of existence, ☁️ only seeing the boy as a lesson learned. Occasionally, though, he would visit Chan’s social media account to see if anything had changed.

After a few months of moving abroad, Chan’s account became unavailable. ☁️ assumed Chan had blocked him or deactivated it. This resulted in ☁️ checking his friend’s, Felix’s, account every few weeks. After a year of moving, Felix’s account became unavailable as well. ☁️ gave up on trying to keep up with the two, deleting the app entirely as it no longer served him. He was sure to keep his account, just in case of course.

Attending classes, meeting new people, and working a simple side job occupied ☁️ so much that Chan was no longer a thought. ☁️ would forget what he sounded like, and what he felt like. Initially, it was a terribly despairing feeling, ☁️ eventually deeming it necessary to finally move forward. It took graduation, a summer break, and a college semester, but ☁️ had finally leaned to be content in his independence.

Now, ☁️ lived in control of his future. He was away from his family and no longer yearning for someone special. Nothing could throw him off pace now.

likes, comments & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: part 2 coming soon, come back in March. ~*+ Thanks for reading!

142 notes · View notes

whisperiin · 1 year ago

Note

walks in with gifts for you and wanshi and haicma and lee hayyyy

can I ask for hand intimacy headcanons for Chrome,Nabe and Kamui pls? Like how they would hold their s/o's hand and would they kiss their hand etc. pls? Ty and take your time :3 ♡

ALSO DINK OITER,this is a threat (affectionate)

hello chrome's glory!!!!!! staying on trend with the tenderness i see (insert eichi smile dot jpeg) i looooove hands so this req seemed super fun ... i hope u enjoy!! (*´ ˘ `*)♡

hand intimacy hcs ft. chrome, watanabe, & kamui

content warnings: none

CHROME

➸ Especially in the early days of your relationship, CHROME was just a little bit awkward around you — almost hyperaware of every inch of distance between you, and somehow never knowing where to put his hands. Sometimes he caught himself staring at yours, though, watching the way your fingers look as you card through his hair, or how your hands tug on his tie after you insisted on fixing it yourself.

➸ That endearing almost-shyness of him has faded away with time, but it's still somewhat evident in the way he reaches out to hold your hand — a light, gentle grip, like some unspoken question of, is this alright? He'll often find his hand drawn to yours when he feels he needs to keep you — or himself — grounded, or if he doesn't want to lose you in crowded places. For something he was initially so awkward about, it didn't take long for it to become so natural to him, like the way the tense line of his shoulders relaxes at the sight of your smile, or the way he always turns to you during those stuffy, formal military parties, extending a hand to you with a little, May I have this dance?

➸ Chrome has a habit of brushing his thumb over your knuckles whenever he holds your hand, and he just loves kissing the back of your hand, too — the back of your palm, and over your knuckles. His hold on you is never tight, like you could choose to free your hand from his whenever you wish, as if even something as simple as this is a choice he'll always give you.

KAMUI

➸ It's not much of a surprise to hear that KAMUI is incredibly casual with his affection. Most days he'll try to casually, not-so-sneakily wrap his arm around your shoulders, or lift you off your feet as he hugs you. Much like a sunflower turning to face the sun, he claims his day immediately brightens whenever he gets to rest his head on your shoulder.

➸ He just loves being able to hold you in some way, with the kind of eagerness of someone trying something new for the first time, every single time — he'll grab your wrist as you walk together, eager to tell you about his latest mission in the Strike Hawk lounge, or he'll see you reaching for something on a high shelf and accidentally cover your hand with his own as he passes it over to you.

➸ Kamui likes gently squeezing your hand every so often when he holds it, paired with one of those almost-signature big smiles of his. He doesn't seem like the type to do hand kisses all too much — he much prefers kissing your face; isn't that much more straightforward? — but if he ever gets the chance to, he enjoys peppering your palms in kisses, all over any calluses, or scars, or other marks that litter your skin.

WATANABE

➸ WATANABE is uncomfortably unfamiliar with the kind of affection that you show him — not in the way that disgusts or unnerves him, of course, but in the way that he wonders why you chose him, of all people. Wouldn't you rather have someone who could better reciprocate your advances, instead of someone who only knew how to hold a blade? He's more than grateful for you, though, even if his hands might feel like sandpaper against yours, callused from years of combat.

➸ Rather than being shy about it, he likes to think he's reserved instead. His physical affection is subtle but tender, if a little rough around the edges. He's fond of brushing the back of his hand against yours, and he likes feeling the steady thumping of your pulse as he holds onto your wrist. He has a habit of kissing your wrists when he holds onto them, too, right at the junction where your palm meets your forearm.

➸ The way he holds onto you is gentle but firm, as if he's scared of hurting you — but in moments where it's just the two of you, Watanabe has a tendency to hold your hands... Not casually, per se, but more freely than he allows himself when you two are in the presence of others. He might put his hands over yours to show you the proper way to hold one of his knives or to stop you from working too late, or put his hand on the small of your back to steady you before you fall over. Each time he passes it off with one of these formulaic excuses, but each time he feels the warmth of your hands, your arm against him, he swears his heat circulation system malfunctions for just a second.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr chrome #pgr kamui #pgr watanabe #pgr x reader #punishing gray raven x reader #pgr chrome x reader #pgr kamui x reader #pgr watanabe x reader #bee.writes

180 notes · View notes