#why can’t I somehow do something new and exciting
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Man these stickers are pissing me off so bad. I cannot shake the feeling that they’re just basic and boring and I don’t know how to fix it!! I still need to finish painting them and I hope adding detail will help but blegh
Anyways mini ramble I really want to open my own online shop and sell stickers and prints one day. I have all the stuff I need to make them but I always feel like literally who would want to buy the stuff I make. Which is annoying because people are super nice and supportive of me. It’s very frustrating when you are the one standing in the way of all your dreams and ambitions 😭
#maybe it’s the using a realism style for the silly whimsical cartoon??#like it’s like ok. I drew the boys dancing with Kraehe and tutu respectively#whateveeeeeeer#why can’t I somehow do something new and exciting#that said I’m trying to tell myself I’m just upset with them because I’m making them#somebody else might really like to have these stickers#maybe they’d make a good gift I don’t know#it’s time to go to bed I’m too frustrated#I’m fighting myself like I’m mytho in season 2 over putting mytho in red btw#lea talks#anyways it’s sleepy time
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍
You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”
“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.
You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
“Thank you for your help. Again.”
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.
“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
“Was it really that bad?”
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…
“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?
“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…
“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.
“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.
“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.
“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.
“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.
Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…
“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“
“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.
“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”
It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“
“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.
“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“
You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.
“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“
“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”
“Did you ask her, though?”
“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?
Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
You’re gone.
Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.
“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
“Is she fine, why did she-“
“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“
“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“
“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuri’s-
“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.
“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.
“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”
Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?
“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”
Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
“Sanemi”, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?
“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.
“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.
“What?”
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
“Why are you here, Sanemi?”
“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“
“(y/n), please.”
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”
“Sanemi…”
“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“
“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.
“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”
“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”
“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”
“No problem, I’ll carry you-“
“You really don’t have to carry me-“
“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”
“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”
“Did you have to tell her everything?”
“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
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#readers crow is my spirit animal#kny#kny x reader#hashira training arc#kny x you#kny x y/n#kny angst to fluff#kny angst#kny fanfic#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kimetsu x you#kimetsu sanemi#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi headcanons#sanemi angst#sanemi fluff
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cold hearted!jeonghan + virginity loss
— after the rumors spread about Jeonghan, the coldest guy in the university, having the biggest crush on you, you ask him to be your first.
WARNINGS: +18, smut, virginity loss, oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, begging, protected sex.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
it feels almost too easy.
you’ve spent years skirting around the idea, dropping hints here and there to guys you thought could be good enough, but somehow it never worked out. none of them felt right—not that it was about romance, but the hesitation always lingered when it came down to it. maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the wrong guys, but the frustration built up to the point where you just wanted to get it over with.
and then there’s jeonghan.
the guy everyone whispers about, cold-hearted, unapproachable, but with a reputation that’s impossible to ignore. girls gossiping in between lectures, bathrooms filled with whispers of him being distant yet insanely attractive. and somewhere along the line, you heard it—the rumor that he had the fattest crush on you.
the thought of it festered in your mind for weeks. yo know him, a few polite exchanges, some assignments you did together, pairing up on p.e... there’s a confidence in your gut that he’ll say yes.
you hadn’t planned on showing up at his dorm unannounced, yet here you are, standing outside jeonghan’s door with a racing heart and sweaty palms. knocking felt surreal, like a dream you might regret later, but you do it anyway because you’re desperate. a familiar, twisted excitement coils low in your stomach when you hear footsteps, and the door swings open to reveal jeonghan—leaning against the frame, as nonchalant as ever.
“what’s up?” he asks, eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read your thoughts. the casualness in his voice makes you almost forget why you’re here. almost.
“can i come in?” you stammer.
he steps aside without a word, allowing you to slip past him into the small room. his dorm smells faintly of laundry detergent and something minty. it’s tidy, too—unexpectedly so.
“this is new,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed, arms folded, watching you. “you showing up here and all.”
you laugh nervously, wringing your hands as you stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. “yeah, well… i’ve been thinking.”
his eyebrow quirks up, like he’s daring you to keep going. but you hesitate, biting your lip, trying to find the right words. you’ve played this conversation out in your head a thousand times, but now, under his steady gaze, everything feels impossible to say.
he tilts his head. “you’re not here to ask me about the assignment, are you?”
“no,” you blurt, suddenly sitting down on the chair next to his bed. you can’t meet his eyes. “it’s… something else.”
silence stretches between you. jeonghan waits, patient, but there’s something flickering in his expression now—curiosity, maybe.
you take a deep breath, your voice shaky but determined. “i want you to be my first.”
his eyes widen, and for the first time, jeonghan looks genuinely caught off guard. “what?”
“i… i want to lose my virginity.” you blurt out, no point in dancing around it anymore. you’ve been holding onto this for years, and you’re tired. tired of hearing your friends share their stories, tired of feeling left behind.
“you want me to do it?” he shakes his head, leaning back on his elbows, processing your words. “so what, you just wanna pop your cherry and bounce?”
“no!” you shake your head quickly, heart pounding as you try to explain. “i just… i don’t want my first time to be with some asshole. everyone else would treat me like a joke. but you… you wouldn’t, right?” your voice is small, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but it’s true. jeonghan might have a reputation, but he’s never been cruel.
he closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall. inside, you can tell he’s thrilled���maybe he’s been dreaming about this. but the mask he wears is cold, detached, like he’s doing you a favor.
“you’re serious?” he asks, voice low.
“yeah,” you whisper.
he doesn’t move for a moment, just staring at you, like he’s deciding whether or not to believe you. then, slowly, he leans in, his face inches from yours. his breath is warm, and your heart skips a beat. it’s almost too much to handle, and you blink up at him, your voice a nervous squeak.
“are you… are you gonna kiss me?”
jeonghan furrows his brow, like it’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “what, you thought i was just gonna—” he stops, and you see the slightest flicker of a smile. “—get straight to it?”
you shrink into yourself a little, cheeks burning. “maybe?”
he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your stomach twist. “nah, you’re way too cute for that.”
before you can respond, his lips are on yours—wet, sloppy, and everything you didn’t expect. there’s no rush, no hurried fumbling. just him, kissing you slow and deep, making sure you feel everything. his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you melt into the kiss, your body buzzing.
then, he takes your hand, guiding it down to his lap, pressing it against the hard length straining through his sweatpants. you freeze, your breath hitching at the sudden contact.
“feel that?” he murmurs against your lips, voice husky. “that’s going inside you.. do you think you can take it.”
your fingers curl around him instinctively, squeezing just enough to make him groan softly. “i can.” you bite your lip.
“still sure about this?” he asks, his breath heavy.
you nod.
jeonghan's hands are all over you, moving so effortlessly, and before you know it, your clothes are off, tossed somewhere in the room. he’s slow, but it’s not the kind of slow that makes you feel exposed—more like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time like he’s got all night. and maybe he does.
when he spreads your legs, the sudden awareness of what’s happening, of how vulnerable you are, hits you. you instinctively cover your face with your hands, but you can still feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your body.
“cute,” he murmurs. “you hiding from me now?”
your breath catches in your throat, but you peek through your fingers to see him smirking, looking like he’s in complete control. and maybe that’s what makes it less terrifying—he’s not rushing. he’s not judging. he’s just... there.
when his head dips between your thighs, you tense, unsure of what to expect. your heart races, and you let out a shaky breath as his mouth hovers over you, his warm breath ghosting over your already wet folds. then he licks, slow and slick, and you almost orgasm there, the warm tongue on your clit making your eyes slightly roll back.
“fuck,” you gasp, your hands clutching the sheets beside you, your face burning.
he pulls back slightly, lips glistening, his eyes locking with yours. “relax,” he says. “we’ve barely started.”
and then his tongue is back, sliding through every fold, licking with a patience that’s almost agonizing. he’s focused, making sure you feel everything—every lick, every brush of his lips, every soft kiss to your inner thigh between his slow, sensual movements.
your chest heaves as you try to process the sensations, but it’s overwhelming. this is what you’ve been missing out on all these years? the thought is almost laughable now, especially when he sucks on your clit, gently at first, then harder, leaving it swollen and pulsing.
“oh my god,” you cry out, the sound escaping you before you can stop it.
jeonghan grins against you, winking naughty, and as if to rub it in, he gives your clit a playful suck, sending you squealing. he looks up at you, still grinning. “you like that?”
you don’t even answer, can’t answer, because your brain is too fogged up. you can’t think, can barely breathe, and he hasn’t even started properly yet.
his hand travels down between your legs, and he presses a finger against your slick entrance, not pushing in just yet, just applying pressure, teasing. “have you ever had your little fingers here?” he asks curious.
your face burns at his words, but you nod “just one finger,” you admit, shy and sly, like a secret you’re embarrassed to reveal.
the way you say it—so sweet, so unsure—makes him throb inside his sweatpants. he exhales heavily, eyes darkening as he pushes his finger inside, just the tip at first, slowly. “just one, hmm?”
you bite your lip, nodding as he slides the rest of his finger in. the sensation is new, unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable, his finger is a bit longer than yours. he’s careful, attentive even, and that’s what makes you relax into the feeling.
“you’re so tight,” he mutters as he adds a second finger, stretching you out even more. you wince slightly at the stretch, but the way he curls his fingers inside you, scissoring them slowly, almost instantly makes the discomfort melt.
your hips buck instinctively as he works you open, his movements precise, his eyes fixed on you like he’s studying every reaction. “how’s that feel?”
“good,” you breathe, the word slipping out before you can stop it.
he chuckles softly, his free hand moving up to caress your thigh as his fingers pump in and out of you, his pace maddeningly slow. “you’re getting impatient, aren’t you?”
you whine in response, your voice shaky. “take your clothes off,” you mumble, your neediness evident in your tone.
jeonghan pauses, amusement flickering in his eyes. “hmm? what’s that?”
“take them off,” you repeat, a little more urgent this time, your voice coming out in a needy whine.
he grins, leaning over you, his face inches from yours. “patience, baby,” he says, his voice soft, but there’s a teasing edge to it. “you really wanna see me naked that bad?”
you nod, shameless now, your body craving the sight of him, the feeling of him against you. he’s been teasing you for too long, and it’s driving you insane.
“just wait a little longer,” he says, his tone mock-sulky, like he’s the one being deprived. but there’s a smile playing on his lips, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, the way you’re practically begging for him.
his fingers curl inside you again, hitting a spot that has you arching off the bed, a soft moan escaping your lips. “you’re so cute like this,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he works a third finger inside you, stretching you even more.
you whimper at the new stretch, your body trembling, but it’s the good kind of overwhelming now. the kind that has you clenching around him, needing more.
“jeonghan...” you whisper, your voice breathless, desperate.
he smirks, his thumb brushing over your clit as he scissoring his fingers inside you, spreading you open. “i love seeing you like this,” he murmurs. “all wet for me, begging like that.”
you don’t even care how wrecked you sound when you plead, “please, jeonghan. take them off.”
he laughs softly, shaking his head. “soon,” he says, his voice dripping with promise. “just let me enjoy this a little more.”
jeonghan keeps his fingers inside you, watching every twitch of your body as you clench around him, so tight he almost groans himself. you’re so close, it’s written all over your face, but you don’t even seem to notice it—lost somewhere, breathing heavily but not quite there yet. and he’s not about to let you drift off when you’re so close to cum.
“mm, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers moving just a little faster, curling them in that spot he’s already learned by heart. “you don’t even know, do you?”
you blink, dazed, barely processing his words, but then you feel his lips on your nipple—a soft peck at first, then a sharp bite that has you gasping, your hips jerking against his hand.
“there you are,” he smirks, teeth grazing over your sensitive skin as he feels you clench around his fingers again, tighter this time. “you were drifting away, but i need you right here with me. focus.”
your body reacts instantly, the tension building again, winding tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back anymore. his fingers pump in and out, wet and slick with your dampness, and the obscene sound of it fills the room as he brings you right to the edge.
“fuck, jeonghan—” your voice is shaky, barely holding it together as your hips start moving on their own, grinding down onto his hand. you’re not even sure when it happens, but suddenly, the tight coil inside you snaps, and you’re coming hard around his fingers, your body tensing, then releasing all at once.
“oh my god,” you cry out, your back arching off the bed as you orgasm, wet and messy. you’re so slick that his fingers slide easily in and out, coated in the creamy evidence of your cum. jeonghan’s eyes are glued to you, watching the way your body trembles, how soaked you are, and the satisfied smirk on his face says it all.
“so fucking wet,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, fingers still buried deep inside you. he slows down his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, his thumb brushing lazily over your clit. “you didn’t even realize how close you were, huh?”
you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath, your mind foggy from the bliss.
he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, his eyes flicking up to yours. “wanna see me take it all off now?” he teases, pulling his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every inch of them as they slip free. your breath hitches, still sensitive, but you nod eagerly, the post-orgasmic haze making you a little desperate.
“please,” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse, but the need is clear.
he grins, sitting up and tugging his shirt off halfway, but he pauses, eyes scanning the room. “wait a second,” he says, a bit too casual, as he starts searching around for something.
“what are you doing?” you ask, frustration creeping into your voice. he’s making you wait, again, and you’re about to protest when he holds up a condom, waving it in front of you with a satisfied smirk.
“can’t forget this,” he says, climbing back onto the bed.
you roll your eyes, still breathless, but your gaze drops to his chest as he slides the shirt the rest of the way off. his hand runs slowly down his chest, over his belly, and lower still to the waistband of his sweatpants.
“calm down,” he teases, his voice sweet, noticing the way your eyes are locked on his every move. “i’m not going anywhere.”
your breath hitches as he pulls his pants and boxers down, finally revealing himself to you. his cock is hard, flushed, and slick with precum, and you can’t stop yourself from staring.
“fuck, you’re pretty,” you mutter under your breath, barely aware you said it out loud until you see the way his lips curl into a grin.
“you’re the pretty one,” he counters, his voice soft as he strokes himself once, twice, before rolling the condom on. his eyes flick up to yours again, playful but with a hint of seriousness. “ready?”
you nod, your body buzzing as he lines himself up with your entrance. he slides the tip inside, and you both groan at the contact. it’s slow at first, his cock pushing into you inch by inch, and you can feel the stretch, how full he’s making you feel already.
but then, right when he’s halfway in, you gasp, “wait—stop.”
he freezes instantly, his eyes searching your face. “you okay?”
instead of answering, your hand slips between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his cock. the sudden contact makes him shudder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning low in his throat. you give him a little shake, feeling the hardness of him pulsing in your hand, then slowly start guiding him deeper inside you.
you guide him in slowly, inch by inch, until your hand has nowhere else to go, and he's buried completely inside you, balls deep. you’re panting, your body adjusting to the size of him, and when you pout your lips for a kiss, jeonghan leans in without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little scoff you let out between moans. the sensation of him stretching you so perfectly has your head spinning.
he pulls back slightly, eyes glued to yours as he starts moving, his hips rolling in slow thrusts. it’s a sharp sting at first, but nowhere near as painful as you expected, and the more he moves, the more that sting fades, replaced by a growing heat that makes your breath catch in your throat.
you don’t even notice the way your lips curl into the nastiest grin, like you finally got what you’ve been wanting, and you’re enjoying every second of it. jeonghan sees it though, sees the way your expression shifts from tentative to pure satisfaction, and it drives him fucking wild. his steady thrusts falter for a second, and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check.
“fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he watches you. “you look like you’re having the time of your life right now.”
you moan in response, not even trying to hide it anymore. “i am.”
that’s all the encouragement he needs. his thrusts pick up, sharper now, deeper, and with each roll of his hips, his balls slap against your ass. the bed squeaks in time with his movements, but you barely notice, too caught up in the pleasure. your moans spill out freely, louder and more unrestrained, each one sending a jolt straight to his gut.
jeonghan’s losing it, the sight of you, the sound of you—it’s gonna replay in his mind for days, haunting him like a ghost, but right now, he’s not thinking about that. right now, all he can focus on is the way your body feels underneath him, how you seem to want this just as much as he does. his hips move faster, thrusts sharper and more purposeful, and fuck, you’re taking it all so well.
“god, you—” he groans, his voice strained. “you feel so fucking good. you don’t even know.”
his pace quickens, his hips rolling harder, and you gasp, your body arching up to meet him halfway. he’s hitting all the right spots now, and your moans turn into desperate little cries, your fingers gripping the sheets as you lose yourself in the feeling.
he notices how much you like it—how your body responds to every sharp thrust, how your moans get louder, and that nasty smile on your face only grows. it’s too much for him, but he tries to bury the overwhelming need down in his gut, focusing on fucking you just right.
but even then, he can’t help it—the more you react, the more he loses control, his hips working in sharper, stronger thrusts, the rhythm getting rougher as he chases that perfect high for both of you.
“you like that?” he asks, his voice rough, but the way your body clenches around him is answer enough.
he can’t help but smirk at your desperate little gasps. each thrust brings a little more pleasure, and your nails dig into his back, urging him on as you match his pace.
“more,” you whimper, the need spilling from your lips like a prayer. “please, jeonghan, don’t stop.”
he chuckles, making your heart race. “as if I could,” he replies, picking up the pace even more. you feel that familiar heat pooling deep inside you again.
he can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss to your neck as he continues to rock into you, relishing in every little sound that escapes your mouth.
“that’s it,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot. “let me hear you.”
your moans grow louder, echoing off the walls as you feel the pressure building within you again. your body thrums with need as you claw at him, the sensation of him filling you completely making everything else fade away. you’re lost in him, in this moment, and nothing else matters.
“i’m so close,” you manage to gasp, your words barely coherent as your hips start moving on their own, desperate for that release.
jeonghan feels it, too—your body tightening around him, the way you’re pushing back against him, and it drives him crazy. he grips your hips tighter, controlling your movements, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you right to the edge.
“cum pretty, cum f’me,” he urges sultry, and you can feel that heat building to a boiling point.
“jeonghan—” your voice breaks, and just like that, you’re falling, you’re gripping him tightly, your body spasming as you cum, crying out his name as everything blurs into a haze.
“that’s it, baby,” he groans, his own pleasure rising as he watches you unravel beneath him. “so fucking beautiful.”
the way your body squeezes him as you ride out your orgasm sends him over the edge, and he follows you, thrusting harder as he lets go, filling the condom as you both collapse.
you both lie there for a moment, breathless, the only sounds filling the room are your mingled breaths and the soft creaking of the bed. jeonghan brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a lazy grin spreading across his lips as he looks down at you.
“so, do I get to be the one who pops that cherry again sometime?”
“if you’re lucky,” you tease bakc, but deep down, you know you’re both hooked, and this was just the beginning.
#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt imagines#svt smut#jeonghan smut#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan fanfic#yoon jeonghan x you#svt reactions#svt#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#seventeen au
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Let’s be Honest
Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!
(mdni 18+)
Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.
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The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.
You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.
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“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”
You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?
He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.
You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.
The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.
You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?
He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”
“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.
You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.
What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.
“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.
Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.
He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.
He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.
After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.
“As long as we’re honest with each other.”
#call of duty#cod smut#cod#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley bodyguard#bodyguard#ghost smut#ghost x reader smut#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#cod mw2#cod ghost
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The Other Woman
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Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.
Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader
Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel
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A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!
I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!
Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.
I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!
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The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.
You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.
Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.
“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.
“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.
“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”
And the rest is history…
—
You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.
Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.
Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.
What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.
You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.
—
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.
“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.
You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.
“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.
“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.
“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.
“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”
You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.
“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.
He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?
“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”
It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.
You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.
“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.
You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.
—
It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.
His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.
It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.
—
You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.
You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.
Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.
“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.
“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”
You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.
The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.
“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.
“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.
“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.
“Y/N.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.
“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.
“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.
You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.
“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.
“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.
“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.
In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”
With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.
“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.
It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.
“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.
“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.
“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”
Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.
“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”
“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”
“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.
“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”
“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.
“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”
“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.
“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”
“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.
“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”
Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”
“Like a year ago for a mission…”
“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”
Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.
“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.
Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.
You were always just the other woman.
—————————————————
Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~
would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!
EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara imagine#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara angst#spiderman imagine#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#x reader#spiderman#fanfiction#miguel o’hara fanfiction#spiderman x reader
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— THE GIFT
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death
WORD COUNT — 3,700
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
THE GIFT
Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.
You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.
You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?
Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.
You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.
On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.
“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.
The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.
“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”
“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.
After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.
You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.
When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.
You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.
He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.
“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.
“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.
“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.
You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.
You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.
Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.
You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in.
Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.
To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.
“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.
“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.
Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.
“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.
“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.
Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.
You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.
“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”
“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.
“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.
It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.
“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.
Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.
You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.
“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.
“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”
“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.
You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.
Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.
“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.
“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”
“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.
“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.
“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”
“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.
“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.
“Yes, I was,” you nodded.
“And what do you think of that?”
“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.
“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.
“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.
Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.
“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.
“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.
Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.
“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”
“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.
“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.
You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.
The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.
Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.
“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.
“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.
“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.
“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.
“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.
“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.
“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.
“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.
“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”
“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”
“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”
“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.
Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.
“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.
You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.
Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.
“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.
“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.
“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”
“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.
You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.
“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”
“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”
“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.
“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.
“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”
On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.
Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.
“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.
“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.
“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”
“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”
You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.
“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”
Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.
Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.
Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.
“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”
MASTERLIST
#dune imagine#dune x reader#dune fanfic#feyd rautha imagine#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen imagine#feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#austin butler x reader#lilysfiction
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Hi! For your requests could you do clingy reader in her early 20s and Toji in his mid 30s finding out she's pregnant and interacting with her strict parents? Please?
Whenever you get the chance, lysm!
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: You break the news to your parents that you're expecting.
Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Age Gap (Reader early 20s, Toji mid thirties), Toji being a nervous wreck, Strict Parents
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Finding out that your girlfriend should be great news; however, this news takes Toji by surprise and leaves him unsure of how to feel. It definitely wasn’t planned, though he shouldn’t be shocked since you two weren’t all that careful. Toji wants to get really excited for this but there’s something that holds him back– Your parents.
Your parents haven’t been very accepting of Toji, mostly because of your age gap. Of course, there are some other factors that lead to your parents not liking Toji, but your age gap is the main one. Your parents aren’t easy human beings to win over, and for some reason Toji is freaking out about it. Truthfully, Toji has never been more worried in his life.
“Can’t you just call them? Tell them the great news?” He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s freaking out when you’re standing at their doorstep. You’re holding his hand, trying to get him to calm down, but it’s not working and you’re just feeling his sweaty palm. Great.
“C’mon, they’re not going to eat you alive. You are the reason they’re getting a cute grandbaby.” You tell him, hoping it’ll calm down his nerves, but he just side eyes you.
“Like that makes it any better.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes. Toji’s acting as if your dad is going to grab a shotgun and shoot him– Even if that were to happen, you’re almost sure that Toji will somehow deflect a bullet. “Baby, can you have an ambulance on standby?”
“Toji, for the love of–” You’re cut off by the door that opens. Your mother greets you both sweetly. She figured that she can’t change your mind, she might as well welcome Toji into the family. Your father is a whole different story though.
Your father is less welcoming to Toji, but he tries to make some conversation with the man. It’s dry since your father doesn’t want to talk to Toji, and Toji is losing his fucking mind.
Dinner begins, and your mother is the one that carries the conversation. Toji feels as if your father glares at him every once in a while, and you notice how his breathing gets heavier. He’s freaking out, and you don’t know how to calm him down.
Your hand goes under the table, going to Toji’s thigh and lightly squeezing it, hoping it’ll bring him comfort. Toji gives you an awkward smile before sighing.
“So why did you two want to join us for dinner?” Your father asks, knowing this isn’t just a bonding dinner. You’re here for a reason. You clear your throat before speaking,
“We have an announcement.” You sound awkward, and your father furrows his eyebrows while your mother smiles, thinking she knows what the announcement is. You and Toji exchange a look, and you can tell he just wants to sprint out of the house. It’s hilarious to think about since Toji is the biggest person in the room, and not to even mention that you two are grown adults.
“You’re engaged! Let us see the ring!” Your mother exclaims, and Toji’s face suddenly gets hot. If he wasn’t dead before, he certainly is going to die now. The fact that you aren’t married is surely going to cause an issue.
“I don’t think that’s it…” Your father figures that out, but he can’t figure out the announcement. You take a deep breath, and you shut your eyes. You can’t even look at them, Toji’s nerves transferring over to you.
“I’m pregnant.” You share, and you know that their eyes are wide. You know Toji is about to faint.
“We don’t know how it happened– Well, we know how it happened but… We weren’t planning it so soon, I had a wedding and everything planned but this just came out of nowhere.” Toji is rambling. Your Toji, a man of few words, is trying to explain everything to your dad because he doesn’t want to die tonight. He’s sure he’s still going to, though.
Your parents are oddly quiet, making you open your eyes and see what’s up with them. Your dad ends up sighing before speaking up, “You two are adults, you know what you’re doing.”
Your mother nods in agreement, and you furrow your brows at the lack of reaction. Toji shares the same reaction as you do.
“Is that all?” Toji is about to let out a sigh of relief.
“Yup. Can’t hold you for too long since you two have to start planning a wedding soon.” Is your father’s response, and Toji chuckles. That’s more like it.
At least he isn’t dead, which was Toji’s expected outcome.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#daddy toji#toji imagine#fushiguro toji#toji zenin#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji fluff#toji x y/n#toji x you#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji jujutsu kaisen
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Same Lonely Night
summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down.
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan…
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.”
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it.
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom.
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come?
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago.
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy…
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement.
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself.
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping.
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.”
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment.
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#avengers smut#roommate!bucky barnes#my stories
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Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]
SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)
WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)
A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”
Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking.
“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!”
Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.”
“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.”
Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.
Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders.
Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”
It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.”
He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.
Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment.
“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people.
“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.
Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.
Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands.
Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance.
And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him.
He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing.
“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“What about me?” Az asked.
“Any plans?”
Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”
Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”
Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”
His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that.
Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up.
Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved.
Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days.
It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met.
He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days.
And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it.
Azriel: how’s the bud?
But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him.
Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his.
You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints!
And then, another.
You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?
Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?
You: would that be ok?
Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?
You: life saver <3 see u then!
He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth.
//
His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from.
He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you.
“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue.
Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos.
Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink.
You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.
And Azriel noticed everything.
“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?”
Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.”
Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did.
He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats.
You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms.
“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”
Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed.
Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”
Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off.
He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again.
You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”
His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed.
“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further.
“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?”
Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”
He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it.
Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants.
Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony.
With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself.
He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate.
As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free.
The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself.
And all he could think about was you.
Your eyes, your lips, your voice.
He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat.
Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat.
His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like.
As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly.
But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more.
//
“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?”
Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly.
He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”
She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute.
“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand.
He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.”
“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand.
Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid.
Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted.
His phone chimed from his pocket.
In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client.
Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered.
You: Hey, are you free later?
Azriel: I'm free all night.
When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text.
Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?
You: see you then.
He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did.
He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left.
His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion.
And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.
And then another.
And another.
Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes.
“Sorry I’m a little late.”
Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you.
Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case.
“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence.
You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.
Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight.
Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?”
You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?
You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.”
You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out?
But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip.
“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you.
“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.”
You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”
A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him.
“Why not?”
You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real.
“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?”
Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.”
You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise.
“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?”
Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you.
Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin.
It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed.
Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night.
“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city.
You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment.
“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing.
Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”
You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?”
He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.”
You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug.
“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive.
“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.”
He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.
Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs.
A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further.
You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull.
The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint.
With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel.
You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat.
With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads.
“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint.
Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again.
“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.”
You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him.
Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening.
“I’ll have the same as you.”
He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms.
“You can keep that, too.”
You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by.
It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that.
“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”
And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers.
Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help.
“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”
Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?”
“Yeah.”
He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his.
“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”
That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you.
“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding.
You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away.
You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”
“Why would they do that?”
There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.”
You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong.
“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”
“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards.
Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.”
Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face.
Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick.
“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”
But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.
A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes.
And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his.
Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded.
Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth.
He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth.
It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs.
The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console.
Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp.
In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him.
But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in.
His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly.
Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you.
And that made him sick to his stomach.
Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.”
You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his.
Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself.
He looked over at your seat again.
Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste.
Azriel was fucking done for.
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you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)
rating: G
words: 2.6k
8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3
thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶
[also on Ao3]
It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all. “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.
“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across.
“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore.
“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”
“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken.
“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”
“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.
“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear.
“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.”
“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.
“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.
“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.
“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.
“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”
“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”
“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”
“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.
“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.
“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.”
Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.
[also on Ao3]
#bucktommy fic#fix it fic#bucktommy#wikiangela writes#911 fic#911 8x06#my writing#evan buckley#bucktommy fanfic#tommy kinard#911 fanfic#evan x tommy#buck x tommy#tevan#kinley#read on ao3#dailykinley#911 spoilers#bucktommy fluff#angst and hurt/comfort#angst and feels#bucktommy angst#not gonna tag my tag list this time bc Im exhausted and also not sure who's in the headspace for a fix-it rn#im here if anyone wants to vent or talk btw#and im not going anywhere fuck this
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TASTE OF LIFE. l. heeseung
THE TALE GOES...heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached.
pair -› lee heeseung x fem!reader | trope -› horror, literally no fluff | warn -› major character death, violence, stalking | REN SAYS.. first installment! also this is shit guys im so sorry I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT ASAP ugh writing this much lowk killed me </3 | 3k words | library
---
Mediocre. Normal. Ordinary.
That’s exactly how you’d describe the house that stood before you, with your bags tightly held in both hands as you ascended the few stairs to the porch. It felt like any other house, and you’d even compare it to the old one you were in.
The previous home was different in one major way—it added years of aging onto your parents somehow, as if something had sucked the life out of their minds. It drove them crazy to stay home, and you couldn’t help but be embarrassed every time they mumbled in public about going home.
They looked crazy. You just had to droop your head and pretend you didn’t know them.
Your parents’ eyes lit up when they entered through the door, with wood flooring and a color scheme that reflected on their preferences. It was almost identical to your other house, so why exactly did they choose to move to a home that was no different than the last? If anything, you were just glad they were starting to feel more comfortable within the new space. It felt breathable, and something about the old place you lived in felt dirty and plagued.
It wasn’t much of a struggle as you began to unpack the bags of clothes and boxes of items you brought with you, considering how little you cared about accents and decorations. With furniture already there, your room felt akin to your other one, but something was off. You tried to move the desk over to the window to gauge the effectiveness of the natural lighting, and when your curtains gave way to slightly clouded rays of sunlight in your room, you hummed with some satisfaction. Good enough.
As Halloween came around, you understood how much everyone in the local town loved to celebrate. Houses on your way to school were filled with webs, lights, and jack-o-lanterns, and it made you believe that the pumpkin farm on the outskirts of town had a smart business model. On top of having an abundance of fall flavored desserts, the Yang family held the biggest party of the year, seeing as their son went to the same high school of yours.
You had only heard whispers of the annual Yang Halloween party, rumored to be the best party of all time, was something you were looking forward to every year, even anticipating the post-celebration news to hit you from the town over.
The day neared, and you got more and more excited to finally get to know people ever since you arrived in town. People knew of you as the new girl, but no one reached out, all too consumed in their own cliques to introduce themselves to you.
—
“Taste,” you told the man waiting outside. “The password is ‘taste.’ “
The windows were tinted in red as moonlight streamed through one side of the building. The rest of the house was dark, with only flashing orange, purple, and green lights strung carefully to add to the mysterious ambience. Music blasted from the speakers and shelves were lined with decorations, ones that you were careful to avoid knocking over as you slid your way between crowds. There seemed to be never ending snacks, as people with tattered black cloaks always managed to keep the drinks filled and the rows neat.
It was obvious that the family knew what they were doing when it came to throwing parties—you hadn’t seen one person without a smile on their face. The festivities like horror rooms and games were all through-out the floor, and there was always something for everyone to do.
You fell into conversation with a few people, cutting it short as you excused yourself to the restroom. Down the same hall was a door that was left ajar, and you went to shut it before returning to the boy who you just met.
“Hi.”
You jumped back, eyes darting around as you searched for someone to match the sudden voice, and you heard a small curse in the same direction. Your feet were frozen as you only looked around, your hand still on the knob of the empty restroom as you hoped someone would come to break you out of your stupor.
There was nothing, you promised yourself, and the door shut with a click. Still, your gut swirled with fear as you slowly turned, anxiously rubbing the goosebumps on your skin.
“You can hear me, huh?”
You knew the sound was coming to your left, where the flashing lights were nowhere to be found. All you had was the phone you fished out of your back pocket before you saw a flash of something pale. You immediately turned, trying to find it once more.
You could’ve sworn there was something.
“Hello?” You probably looked insane to any bystander, calling out to the dark when you swore you saw something nearby.
To both your surprise and horror, someone floats through the closet door, his limbs passing through as a grin makes his way onto his features.
You’d think the ghost in front of you was attractive, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were experiencing something supernatural for the first time.
Bile rose in your throat as you became disoriented looking at the figure. With a yelp that caught confused stares from only a few people nearby, you scurried out of the house, bumping into bodies as the door grew closer and closer.
Like a bubble about to burst, the house feels stuffy and humid until you open the large doors, swallowing the cold air of the night like a lifeline. Your head spins with confusion, and you can’t seem to understand what you just saw until he seeps through the wall once more.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” You yelp at the sound of his voice, taking a few steps back as you look anywhere but his sullen face.
The sound of your heart won triumph over anything else as you kept trying to make space between you and the creature in front of you. When he begins to glide closer, you take it as your sign to grab your small clutch and begin a brisk walk back home, no matter how dark.
“My name is Heeseung. No one’s ever seen me,” he explains, easily drifting behind you.
“Get the fuck away from me, Heeseung.” Your voice sounded shaky as the wind rushes past your ears. You felt hopeless, unable to hear his footsteps or gauge where he could be.
He’s right next to you, speaking directly to your profile all of a sudden. “Please, no one’s recognized me since I died. Please, you have to help me.”
The change in proximity has you jumping from being frightened, and you try to cover your ears to block out his voice.
The worst part of it all was that Heeseung could touch you. You felt the cold of his fingertips without the pressure of his mortality in his fingertips. Effortlessly drifting next to you, he worked to pry your fingers from your ears as a plea for you to hear him out.
“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” You began speeding up, seeing your house in sight and the ghost beginning to fall back in his misery. You didn’t care about it, only wanting to go home and pretend everything was a bad dream. While the ghost wasn’t ugly by any means, the supernatural facet of his identity kept you up as you feared the creature outside your window at any moment.
What you didn’t know was that your gut feeling was right–Heeseung wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
—
You didn’t know what was louder–Heeseung’s voice in your ear, or the thudding of your heartbeat.
Your scream echoed around the empty house when he appeared for the second time, your heart dropping as the lack of sleep you got from the night before made you even more on edge now. Everytime you looked down a corridor, shivers racked your body and you were unable to go anywhere without a flashlight. You swore you saw him in the corner of the room, and if not–something was horribly wrong with you.
There he was again, staying by the edge. “Please, get away from me, I can’t give you what you want, Heeseung.” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, as if you weren’t shaking from fear that you’d be joined by an intruder everytime you turned the corner.
You couldn’t shower or change without wanting to tear your hair out, and there was no way to quell the anxiety after you saw him stick an arm through your home.
There was nothing you could do. No one who you could go to about this. You were truly all alone.
Class felt like a blur with an ache in your head and an emptiness in your stomach. It was exhausting for you to dart around the room, waiting for him to appear.
He was waiting for something, you knew it.
You felt on edge constantly, like you were going insane. Every small movement triggered some sort of reaction, so much so that your classmates began to notice and snicker.
You felt like your parents–and you had no idea how to make it stop.
—
It was the third day of your sleepless torment. Your parents often left you alone according to their new work schedules, and you were still stuck having to hide from the apparition until you left for school. He looked torn apart, too, but you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give you space. It got so bad to the point where you heard whispers of him in every corridor. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your bloodshot eyes and scratched arms were a sign that something had been wrong ever since Halloween.
There was only one person you could tell about this, and you didn’t even notice how bad your fingers had been when you went to pick at the dry skin once more.
“Jungwon,” you mumbled as you passed him. He turned around, immediately recognizing you as someone he didn’t know much about.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern knitting his eyebrows as you asked for him to talk with you outside.
Something was off that day. The clouds were gray, dipped with unease. The sky was bathed in dread, and Jungwon could tell something was wrong by the way you couldn’t find the sun no matter where you looked.
“What’s wrong, ____? You’ve been looking horrible ever since Halloween.” You flinched at the word, eyes stinging with tears as you were pushed back into thinking about that night. You never should’ve worn your black dress or added some cute cat ears. You never should’ve left the house.
“There’s something in your house, Jungwon,” you pleaded, your gaze frantically searching for any sign that Heeseung followed you. “It’s like a spirit, something happened and it won’t—“ your words came to an abrupt halt when you heard a chuckle from the boy in front of you.
A laugh tore through as Jungwon crossed his arms and looked at you with a pitiful grin. “You’re funny. Good prank, though,” he smiles, about to turn.
You had no idea what came over you when you went to grab his arm. Jungwon was practically a stranger to you, but one more sleepless night without a cure would’ve made you go insane if he kept following you. You needed to get rid of Heeseung.
“No!” Your voice rang out louder than anticipated, and the sudden shout made you wince, still holding onto Jungwon’s arm. “You don’t get it, something’s following me around, he keeps talking to me and no one else can see him—“
The boy yanked himself out of your grip, suddenly frustrated, and you feared the worst; Yang Jungwon would tell the whole school that you were crazy.
“Please, Jungwon—” you tried once more, “he’s real—he’s everywhere and I can’t get rid of him—it was because of your party,” at this point, your eyes were filled with tears as you begged your only hope from leaving. “You have to help me—“
“I don’t have to do anything for you, ____.” He sneered, growing impatient. “I don’t know who put you up to this whole prank, but you need to stay away from me.” He spun around, paying you no attention as you crumbled to a heap on the ground and sobbed hopelessly on the pavement.
The sky was darker than ever, and it was still afternoon.
Even as you walked down the empty dirt roads to your house, you couldn’t help but hear Heeseung’s voice ring in your ears. As you started running to push the sound out and replace it with your heavy breathing, your eyes began to shut with exhaustion. Slowing to an eventual stop in front of your house, you heaved, gasping for air that felt like it was escaping your lungs any moment as you held into the porch railing
“You’re home. What took you so long?”
Your vision was blurring slightly in the corners, and the corners of your eyes felt puffy. You were slipping out of consciousness, but you remembered that voice anywhere. “Get away from me, please.”
Heeseung pursed his lips, feeling slightly bad for the state that you were in. “I told you, I can help you.”
When you saw his pale shoes in front of you, your body reacted instantly, scrambling back to create some distance. You hadn’t registered that a wooden splinter from the floor cut into your palm until Heeseung saw the blood seep into the planks underneath you. The porch made no sound under his quick footsteps, and it only instilled more frustration at his lack of perceptibility. His sudden approach left you frightened as you waved a hand in the air, unable to feel the wound from the state of your body. “Go away, Heeseung!”
He frowned angrily. “Let me help.” He kneeled next to you and reached out for your wound before you yanked your hand back, stumbling as you got back up and tried to make your way to the entrance.
“Please, stop,” you cried, taking two steps towards the railing before your legs gave out. Heeseung tried to reach out for you again. But you pushed away his hand, the slap of the force making no sound. It was almost humorous how much your torture was one sided, but you had no more energy left to defend yourself.
Heeseung went to grab your wrist, worry etched in his features as your state deteriorated in front of him. You kicked his leg, hot tears staging your cheeks as you sobbed for him to leave you alone, but the more carelessly you moved, the more the large splinter dug into your hand. He begged for you to stop–to let him help you before anything bad happened, but you couldn’t understand through the sound of your own hysterics.
A mix of going days without sleeping, paired with your lack of appetite and delirium left you defenseless no matter how much you tried. You struggled against the ghost of Heeseung’s grip as he tried to stop you from hurting yourself even further. You felt bile in your throat when he was close, and you found the opportunity to yank your arm out of his grip. You underestimated the force, however, and your hand hit the wood behind you. Momentarily distracted, you focused on the blooming pain of the impact and the slowly trailing blood. It was out of body how you couldn’t process the sensation of your fingers tracing the messy wound, and you became a slave to your exhaustion as the boy came back.
You fought against him weakly, the blood from your wound becoming a larger problem the more you used your hands to do anything.
“You don’t get it!” He yelled, tears of his own forming from the anger of having to go against you.
Why couldn’t you just stop? Why did you keep pushing him away? You were selfish, trying to ignore him as if you didn’t understand his predicament. You were the only one who could’ve seen him, and he was the only one who saw you in return. “Even Jungwon doesn’t believe you,” he mumbled bitterly, seeing you slowly slip in and out. “You wouldn’t even help me, ____. It’s all your fault.” He talked as if you could hear him, the life in your eyes gone by the time he wiped his tears and finally looked at you, with your wrist going limp in his hold.
“I don’t get it.” He wept angrily, before getting up and leaving you there on the porch steps in a heap.
Heeseung turned to glance at you again, his semblance of a heart in pain from how things had to end up. “You seemed so nice–so promising. Jungwon swore we could've been friends.”
–
You didn’t know if it was possible to kill a ghost twice. After all, your death turned you into a floating apparition of yourself, as you watched your parents mourn their attempts to shield you from their own fate. Being a ghost wasn’t so horrible, but Heeseung was right; it was lonely.
When a voice calls your name apologetically from where you sit on your rooftop, your gaze settles on him with fury, and the moment you rush over to him and your fingers close around his wrist, you knew that you wouldn’t stop until you properly got rid of Lee Heeseung.
No matter how long it took.
--
i swear the rest of them will be better. and shorter.
zyvlxqht firstclassjaylee @riribelle @jaylajakey @minfolio @strxwbloody @r1kification @strayy-kidz @mimismenu @jwonistic @haechsworld @machambrx @ririsreverie @hollxe1 @wonnina @heeseungismymanz @cyjhhyj @eunimaybe
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need | h.s oneshot
summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.
warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!
a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍
———
At college, things happen, and they happen fast.
One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.
Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.
It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.
And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.
It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”
“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.
He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”
“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.
One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.
It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.
“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.
His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.
A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.
“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.
Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”
“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.
“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.
“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.
“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”
“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”
He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”
“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.
“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”
“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.
“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”
“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”
“You’re a horrible person.”
“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.
“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.
He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”
He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.
“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.
“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.
“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.
“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.
“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.
Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.
He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.
“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”
You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”
“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.
You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.
He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.
You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.
He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.
An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.
“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.
“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.
His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.
“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.
You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.
“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.
A wrong move and he will use it against you.
“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.
“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.
“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.
You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.
He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”
“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”
His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.
The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.
“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.
Everything is in the fine print around here.
You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.
His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.
He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.
Not making a move until you cave against him first.
He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.
Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.
Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.
Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.
You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.
He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.
Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.
Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.
This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.
There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.
Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.
Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.
Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.
Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?
He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.
You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”
Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.
A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.
And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.
Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.
At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.
You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…
Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.
Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.
The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.
His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.
His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.
But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.
Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.
Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.
It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.
You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”
He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.
You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.
It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.
And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…
“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.
Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.
“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.
“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”
You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.
But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.
“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.
“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.
The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.
Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.
Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.
As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.
He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”
His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.
“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.
Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.
“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.
His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.
It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.
Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.
There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.
You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.
His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.
“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”
It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”
A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.
His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.
Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.
It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.
Need, need, need.
That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.
“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.
He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”
The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.
“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”
“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.
He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.
“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.
The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.
“Yes, just do it, please.”
He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.
The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.
He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.
“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.
“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”
His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.
“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.
He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.
The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.
It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.
“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.
“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”
He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.
You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.
Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.
Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.
“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”
“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.
His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.
A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.
“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.
Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.
“More, Harry.”
A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”
“Need you inside of me.”
When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.
“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.
“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—
“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”
His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.
“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.
“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”
“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”
“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.
There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.
Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.
“I’ve got a condom.”
“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.
“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”
You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”
“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.
“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”
“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”
You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”
He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”
“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.
“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.
He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.
His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.
You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.
Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.
Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.
“Fuck Y/N…”
“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”
He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.
“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”
He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.
Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.
“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”
You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”
“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.
You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.
He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.
“Harry, Harry please.”
He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.
“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.
“You.”
He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”
“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”
There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.
“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.
“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”
Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.
He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.
You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.
“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.
“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.
“Please, want you to ruin me…”
Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.
He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.
He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.
“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.
He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.
His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.
“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.
“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.
“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”
His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.
“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.
“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.
Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”
“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.
“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”
“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”
“Mouthing you off, huh?”
He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”
“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”
“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.
“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.
And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.
Only time will tell…
———
a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol
#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#fanfic#prompts#reader insert#harry styles x you#harry styles writing#harry styles smutshot#smut#enemies to lovers#enemies with benefits#college au
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Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic
You were avoiding Lilia.
Ever since the Malleus overblot, you had tried your best to stay away from Lilia.
It helped that everyone was busy dealing with the aftermath. In addition, the four from diasomnia that caused all this needed time to heal and deal with their relationships.
It didn't mean that you didn't see them on campus, but you had a group of first years who would negate anyone that made you uncomfortable.
And that turned out to be Lilia in this case, though this was all thoughts they assumed and not confirmed by you.
But it did let you run away.
Surprisingly, even Sebek helped. He had mentioned he did not agree with your methods in the dream world, but you had helped him and those he cared about. He said that he would help until you were comfortable to talk with them, with him.
You don't know if you would ever be ready to talk to Lilia.
To confess your thoughts and your feelings. To be vulnerable in such a way.
But you knew you would have to be.
It is during these moments when I’m glad I don’t have magic and I can’t overblot.
You knew eventually you would have to talk to him.
Maybe that’s why you had worn your comfiest clothes, and taken a blanket with you to watch the stars outside today of all days.
A feeling called you outside.
“Couldn’t sleep, YN?”
“Hmm…you could say that. How’s the boys?”
“They are recovering, many feelings are being expressed.”
“Family communicating? Working? Wow, who would have thought?”
Lilia laughed as he settled next to you.
“Should you be speaking?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“The cliff?”
“Maybe I was feeling jump-OW!”
You rubbed your cheek as Lilia smiles at you, the hint of danger in his eyes had you shutting up real quick.
“I just wanted to wake you…without unneeded heartbreak.”
“Yet you believed your actions wouldn’t cause any?”
You couldn’t meet his eyes.
You remembered how Grim scrambled to you, crying and calling your name.
You remember shocked faces, guilt, and tears.
You remembered Malleus and how he looked somehow even paler than when he put you all to sleep. How magic circled around him uncertainly.
You knew you hurt them, but at least they were awake you reasoned to yourself.
At least, they were able to stop Malleus.
You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.
Finally, finally, you were able to do something.
Finally, you were able to help.
You weren’t stuck on the sides, watching helplessly.
You heard a hum from next to you.
“Taking such heartbreaking actions. And for what? A foolish crush?”
That had your attention. It had you turning, heated.
“Its more than a crus-”
You abruptly stopped yourself.
The look in Lilia’s eyes spoke of the hunter catching his prey.
He brought up his hand, tilting your chin up towards him. The look in his eyes has you slightly shaking.
Anticipation? Excitement? You couldn’t tell.
“My dearest, faes love intensely. I won’t ever let you go. If you wish to be free, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I love you. Who said I wanted to be free?” You finally spoke the words you were afraid to say before.
The glowing magenta eyes were the last you saw until you were enveloped in warmth.
Bonus:
“Let me go!”
You tried to leave Lilia’s room to attend class but he was literally holding you down with all his strength.
While his bed was comfy and you wouldn’t mind sleeping more, you had class!
“I can’t miss class! We have potions today! Grim might burn the school down!”
“I told you I wouldn’t let you go khee hee hee.”
Silver, Sebek, and Malleus watched as you struggled against a clingy Lilia.
“Why not join their class, Lilia? Would that not be the obvious choice?”
“Tsunotaro, no!”
“Human, you should know better than to take deals made with fae lightly!”
Silver smiled, his family was complete and whole again.
They were healing.
He felt the love for those around him increase.
And it seems, his family had a new addition as well.
#twst x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#twisted wonderland x reader#twst lilia vanrouge#malleus draconia#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#lilia vanrouge x mc#lilia vanrouge x you#twst x you#twisted wonderland x you#lilia x you#lilia x reader
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Sundresses and Leather
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.
Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.
"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.
"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"
"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.
"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.
You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.
But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.
Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”
“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”
“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”
It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.
“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”
“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”
I will.
After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.
Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.
“Holy shit.”
You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.
Flowers.
“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”
You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”
His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."
"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."
"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"
He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”
“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”
“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.
“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”
“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.
“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.
“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”
An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.
This date is off to a great start.
“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”
But I know he has a big dick. I know.
He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”
He’s going to kill my ovaries.
“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”
“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.
He’s trying to impress me.
“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.
“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”
“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.
Did he clean it for me?
You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”
“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”
“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”
“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.
“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”
I just want to spend time with you.
A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.
You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.
“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”
You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?
“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”
James?
The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”
Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”
You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.
“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”
Oh, no.
There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”
“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"
Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.
You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."
"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.
"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."
“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”
Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”
“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”
Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.
"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.
"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."
A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."
As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”
Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.
“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”
“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.
No way.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."
He's full of surprises.
"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.
The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.
"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"
Antonia looks so happy.
"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"
Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."
You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"
"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."
Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.
Perfect.
"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"
You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.
"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."
Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.
Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.
"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."
"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"
He caught that?
"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."
"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.
You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.
"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."
"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."
"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."
"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"
"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."
You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.
I could listen to him talk for hours.
"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.
"I haven't?" You asked.
"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."
You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.
"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.
"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.
"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."
If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.
After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.
"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.
The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."
"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.
Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."
"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.
Fuck me.
"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."
Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.
You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.
"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.
"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."
"In the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."
Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"
"Jesus," he whispered.
It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."
"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."
"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."
I'm not good enough.
Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."
His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."
"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."
"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."
It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.
A partnership.
He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"
Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.
"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."
"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.
"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."
I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.
"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."
"It was," he smiled.
"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.
"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.
You didn't.
Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.
I want more.
"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.
"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?
"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"
So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#tattoo artist!bucky barnes#tattoo artist!bucky barnes x reader#tattoo artist!bucky barnes x baker!reader#hottie and sugar#sin on skin au#tattoo!bucky barnes#tattoo!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#tattoo artist au#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x female!reader#sebastian stan x you
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Aventurine's reaction when you call him and tell him that his catcake gave birth (its so silly ikr, just a sudden idea nothing important lol)
Cats are like potato chips; you can’t have just one.
Summary: When you call Aventurine to share the news that one of his beloved catcakes has given birth to a litter of tiny, adorable kittens, you expect a simple reaction. However, Aventurine's response is anything but ordinary.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Comedy, Slice of Life, Pets(Catcakes), Domestic Life, Lighthearted Fun, Situational Humor, Silly Situations.
A/N: THIS IS SUCH A SILLY AND CUTE IDEA 🤭 AND BEFORE Y'ALL COME AFTER ME I KNOW CHURIN HAS 3 CATS SO PRETEND TWO OF THEM ARE PARENTS OR SOMETHING!! KEEP THOSE REQUESTS COMING!! 🫶💖
You stood in the middle of your living room, phone in hand, staring at the sight before you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. One of Aventurine's beloved catcakes, a plush-like, mischievous creature with large golden-rimmed eyes and its distinctive trash-can-lid "hat," had just given birth to a litter of tiny, squirming mini-catcakes. Each one looked like a little version of their mom—black and pudgy, with miniature trash can lids that tilted adorably to the side.
You dialed Aventurine’s number, giggling to yourself at how ridiculous this was going to sound. The line picked up almost instantly, Aventurine's rich, confident voice greeting you.
“Darling, I hope this call means you're missing me terribly.” he said, the smooth charm practically radiating through the phone.
“Oh, I am,” you chuckled. “But that’s not why I called. Um...one of your catcakes just gave birth. You’re a...catcake dad now!”
There was a brief, stunned silence on the other end. You could picture him, his eyes widening in a rare moment of surprise, his usual air of confidence momentarily thrown off balance.
“Wait…my catcake did what?” He sounded somewhere between bewilderment and amusement, a laugh bubbling up in his voice.
“Yep! A litter of tiny catcakes! They’re like little carbon copies of the original but with even tinier trash can hats.” You tried to stifle your laugh but failed miserably, imagining how Aventurine must look processing this news.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Little risk-takers already multiplying without my knowledge…” he murmured to himself, though you could hear the faint trace of excitement creeping into his tone. “Tell me, darling—how do they look? Are they as devilishly charming as their old man?”
“Oh, absolutely! Little round black puffballs with the cutest, most intense eyes.” you said, leaning down to gently pet one of them as it squeaked. “And they’re already wiggling around, so I think they inherited your, uh, energy.”
“Mini me’s, indeed.” Aventurine’s laugh was low and surprisingly affectionate. “I suppose I’ll need to come over and meet the little scoundrels. And...maybe celebrate with you, seeing as you’ve helped bring my legacy forward. How does dinner sound?”
You grinned, heart fluttering a bit at his charm. “Dinner sounds perfect. But be prepared—they’re already trying to climb out of the box I put them in.”
“Oh, they’ll fit right into the family, then.” He let out an indulgent sigh. “Well, be a dear and keep them from getting too rowdy. I’ll be over shortly.”
As you hung up, you could still hear Aventurine's amusement lingering in his voice. You smiled to yourself, turning back to the tiny creatures that had somehow managed to turn a perfectly normal day into something absolutely unforgettable. Only Aventurine’s pets would come with this level of drama.
Aventurine suggestive fic next 🤭 keep those requests coming!
#x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#hsr aventurine#hsr aventurine x reader#fluff#comedy#Slice of life#Pets#cat cakes#Domestic life#Lighthearted fun#Silly situational#Humor situational
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from the vault:
don't know why I thought it'd be any better / I'm fine now, it doesn't matter
》 Me & My Dog, boygenius
》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 let the cat out of the bag [idiom]: to allow a secret to be known, usually without intending to
The music playing in the club is questionable at best, pounding in your head in a way that makes you wish you could turn hearing aids off as your grandfather used to do on family events.
You’re not sure why you indulged your friends, or why you let them throw a party for an award you have not even won yet. You’re not sure why you’re sitting in such an uncomfortable booth, sipping overpriced drinks and side-eyeing your boyfriend every other shot.
You’re not sure how you ended up in this situation in the first place, but you sure know the reason why you’re still here.
The reason itself is hooping her arm around your shoulder as her head drops down in a laugh so loud it makes you grin too – even if you have no idea what it’s all about.
Leah holds you closer in a familiar way, having noticed the discomfort growing in your chest all night long. Somehow, her gentle fingers drawing abstruse shapes on your arm and her distinctive, warm presence manage to ease your body and mind immediately.
“You good?”
“Good enough”, you answer, your friends distracted as necessary to give you a moment to hear your own thoughts.
“Just say the words and we’re out of here”
She winks, trusting you to actually use the secret sentence a much younger version of the two of you come up with to get each other out of trouble.
Never failed so far.
The bubble enveloping you pops when Keira, your boyfriend, and a couple of your mates come full speed into the booth, looking for drinks and victims to drag on the dance floor.
“Having fun?”, your boyfriend asks, his arm claiming the right to hold you closer.
You don’t have time to answer; Keira is loudly teasing Leah for something you can’t hear, and your friends are trying to get you to join them. They push and pull, too excited to properly move in the tiny free space left on the booth.
That’s how you find yourself on top of Leah, her hands on your back to keep you steady and your gaze fixed on her easy smile.
“They’re doing it again!”
Someone, somewhere around, comments that you look very good together. They point out the teasing and the flirting, you think her touch on your skin feels like second nature. The weight constantly pressing on your chest moves to and fro, stirred by gentle wind like a leaf. They make fun of the way you look at each other, the way Leah looks at you as if you’re the reason the Sun rises every morning.
You can breathe freely around her, you notice just now in the loudest and most crowded club in London.
“If not for the pretty boy right there, one could think–”
“In her dream”, you quip back, holding Leah’s cheek between your knuckles in a childish way – the grin on her lips never fading.
The excited and amused reactions around you aren’t able to catch your attention, not questioning the frown on your boyfriend’s face.
“Make her dream come true then”
That makes your head turn, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. It must be a drink too much, it must be his bruised ego; but he’s challenging you and he knows it never ends well.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, the blonde gets involved, bursting into a laugh believable enough to fool everyone but you.
“As if”
The annoyed scoff is barely registered by your mind.
Your hand on the back of Leah’s neck rises just enough for your fingers to find some loose locks – the movement always able to calm her.
A moment later, your lips touch.
The kiss is too soft to be offensive, too caring to be just a dare.
Something inside your stomach rises awake, your heart stops suddenly and explodes like a million fireworks at the same time. It feels like a completely new and unexpected emotion invades your own body.
A piece of a puzzle you didn’t even know was missing finds its place.
It goes on past your friends’ cheers and laughs, your boyfriend’s ego, your own beliefs. It starts with Leah’s hands on your back and your lips sealing her downfall, it carries on with your bodies finding a way to get even closer, it doesn’t stop with the music and the need for air.
It will not end due to the fear of facing consequences.
It’s a lot, but you don’t care. It’s right.
Maybe the entire club goes silent, maybe just the doubts so deeply rooted in your soul you thought were a part of you.
Leah cups your face so kindly you find yourself chasing her lips like you can only breathe now you kissed her, but you feel her pulling away just enough to know.
“Rio called”, she says gently.
Two words able to drag you back in the actual moment, seated on her lap with your hands around her neck. You’re in a crowded club in London, the music still sucks. Your boyfriend’s looking at you both like he doesn’t know who you are and like he really sees you for the first time.
Leah whispered your secret sentence.
Leah just used your secret sentence, and she rarely does.
You don’t have to think too much after that, you sit up and reach for her before anyone can comment or even realise what just happened.
She needs you, so you make sure to get her out of here as soon as possible – holding her hand the entire time.
You will fight with your boyfriend tomorrow, you will blame the alcohol and the loud music and the teasing. You will reassure him that it really didn’t mean anything, that it was just fun. You didn’t even enjoy it that much.
He will not believe you.
You will not believe yourself either.
#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#here we go again#its been a while#but here i am#from the vault
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