#Well took me goddamn long enough to respond to this ^^;
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please write namgyu x reader keys and knives games where hes whipped for the reader basically 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
‘that was hot’
nam-gyu x fem reader
warnings: knives and death
i realized midway writing this he might not be THAT whipped but bare with me ;(

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶
you didn’t know how much longer you had.
the voice had stopped announcing the countdown. which made it worse. made it feel like it could all end mid-step, mid-breath, mid-blink.
a player fails to kill = a player dies. and you were still holding your knife like it might bite you.
you hadn’t stabbed anyone.
hadn’t even tried.
and now you were just walking one hand trailing the wall to steady yourself, hoping some corner would give you a clue on what the hell to do.
you’d thought you could stall. thought you might be able to outlast it.
but the walls were closing in.
and every second felt like a countdown in your ribs.
just then
you heard something.
low. muffled. not footsteps, a struggle. a grunt. and something heavy shifting.
you turned the corner slowly.
and your stomach dropped.
nam-gyu.
his knee was pressed down hard on a guy’s chest. one hand over the man’s mouth, the other gripping a knife already stained red.
his head tilted at the sound of your steps
and the moment he saw you, his whole body stilled.
then he smiled.
like finally.
like you were exactly who he wanted to see.
“there you are.”
your fingers tightened around your useless knife.
“what—”
“what are you doing?”
he shifted his weight without taking his eyes off you. his hand was still clamped tight over the struggling man’s mouth.
“holding him for you.”
you just stared at the him.
“what?”
“you didn’t kill anyone, right?’’
“figured i’d help you out.”
he said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a man dying under his hands.
“why?” you asked.
nam-gyu raised an eyebrow.
“because you’re interesting.”
your chest tightened.
“you don’t even know me.”
“i’ve seen enough.”
“you’re different.”
he let go of the man’s mouth just long enough for the guy to choke out a noise then clamped his hand back, barely looking down.
his eyes stayed on you. steady. focused. curious.
“you going to do it?” he asked quietly.
“or should i just finish him and let you die?”
you flinched.
he saw it.
“don’t worry. i don’t want you dead.”
his voice dropped just a little. like the end of that sentence was something he didn’t quite say, yet.
you stood frozen. the man beneath him was crying now, barely trying to fight. he knew what was coming.
and you?
you weren’t sure what scared you more, the idea of doing it or not doing it.
“you need to pass,” nam-gyu said simply.
“i don’t need him.”
he wasn’t pushing you. wasn’t threatening. just watching. waiting. like he wanted you to step forward on your own.
and maybe it was the way he looked at you, not like you were weak, but like you could do it if you just let yourself.
like he already knew you would.
so you moved, step by step. slowly.
he didn’t stop you.
he sat back on his heel, still pinning the guy, and kept his eyes on your face the whole time.
you knelt.
your hands were shaking. the knife in your grip felt heavier than anything you’d ever held.
nam-gyu’s voice came low, quiet.
‘’fast. it’s easier.”
you nodded once. barely.
and you did it.
the man stopped moving almost instantly. the silence after felt louder than any scream.
you stayed still. not crying, not shaking, just still.
then,
a low exhale.
nam-gyu leaned back, letting the man’s body fall limp beneath him. he looked at you like you’d just become something new in front of him.
like he liked it.
“well.”
a slow grin crept into his mouth. not manic. not wild. just pleased.
“that was hot.”
you looked up at him sharply, stunned.
he laughed, soft under his breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“took you long enough.”
“but goddamn.”
you didn’t respond.
your heart was still too loud.
but your eyes met his and something flickered between you.
not safety.
not trust.
but something magnetic.
something dark.
he reached over slowly, took the knife from your hand, and set it down beside you.
“next time…”
“don’t wait so long.”
he stood, gaze still dragging down over you like he was trying to memorize this version of you. the blood, the resolve, the quiet shock in your eyes.
“you looked good like that.”
then, with a sharp wink and one last glance:
“we’ll find you another one soon.”
and he disappeared down the hallway.
leaving you breathless.
alive.
and weirdly satisfied.
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okay but what about a sorta opposite from your mean!reader nerdy!abby. reader is a total book worm but when it comes to anything outside of a textbook she’s a bimbo. while abby’s set on getting her doctorate and doesn’t have time for anyone but reader wriggles her way dumbly into abby’s heart
- 💐
WAAAA I LOVE THIS ONE OMG … so cute i luv this so bad thank you flower anon !!!!!! i’m kinda obsessed with dumb reader and nerdy abby … but maybe i’m projecting because i’m also quite dumb </3
i made reader more bimbo-y (that is not a word forgive me) and focused on the fact that she’s more interested in books than studies , i hope that’s okay !!!!! <3333
i hope you enjoy !!!!!!!! ^_^ ♡ ♡ ♡
cw. slightly mean abby, fingering
⋆˙⟡ nerdy! abby and bimbo! reader, a match made in heaven.
─────────────────────────
♡ . — ꒰ 1 ꒱
୨୧ you’re obsessed with reading. your shelves are filled with a wide range of genres, from the most intricate fantasy stories to thriller and horror, and even to the most insane smut you’ve ever come across. when you’re not busy shopping or doing your makeup to take selfies, your head is buried in one of your many books for hours. unfortunately, your passion for reading hasn’t transferred to your academics…
୨୧ exam season is coming up, and you haven’t been studying at all! but one quick glance at abby anderson, the well-known top student of your classes, and you decide you need her help. you haven’t spoken to her at all, never in the two years you’ve been attending college, but after your lecture had ended, you confidently approach her wearing your favorite mini-skirt. you have a big smile on your face when you get to her, a little too big, but this was important. first impressions mattered. but abby simply looked at you from head to toe, packing away her textbooks and making her way out of the room without saying a single word.
୨୧ no biggie… maybe she’s just busy, she probably had a lot of things to do considering she had to keep her place as number one. so the next week you see her, you end up following her out of the lecture hall like a lost puppy — she doesn’t respond back to you, even after you offer to buy her a sweet treat from the campus’ cafe, or when you asked if she wanted a study partner. she kept walking to wherever she needed to go. you ended up following, of course. abby wasn’t pleased at all. you could tell from her face, but that didn’t deter you!
୨୧ abby didn’t budge for a while. she told you off one time, something along the lines of “i don’t need an idiot distracting me,” which you took with a grain of salt. maybe all those calculations and body anatomy memorization made her moody. she was always in the library studying, laptop open with lecture slides, her notebook full of notes that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, even five different pens for differing information. you were lucky enough that she didn’t say anything when you followed her to the library, but it was like you weren’t even there at all.
୨୧ you’re sitting across from her, a book in hand as always, you’re almost halfway done in the time that abby had been studying. you wonder how she can focus for so long without wanting to do something else. but abby thinks the same about you, taking small curious peeks when you were distracted. she wonders how you’re so goddamn annoying about your college work but can read a bunch of big words for hours. beats her, not her problem.
୨୧ abby had enough one day. she invites you over to her dorm room for a “study date” just to shut you up, and almost immediately tells you to sit down when you prance around, touching almost every medal and trophy she has on display. you sit on her bed, a sheepish smile on your face. now that you’re here with her — alone, it makes you a little nervous. you’ve been begging for this, and yet, it makes you blush a little when abby sits right next to you. your arms are brushing against each other, and she’s flipping through her notes while she explains them to you. you weren’t really listening.
୨୧ for the first time, you’ve gotten the chance to get to know abby. her cologne is strong, but not overpowering, it’s just enough to keep you wanting more. she smells good. her hair is always neatly braided. her notes are also freakishly organized, perfect handwriting with different brightly colored titles for every single chapter. you laugh a little, and it confuses abby. she lets out a “what?” with a glare, and you wrap your arms around her bicep, “nothing, just kinda funny that all your notes are so cute when your personality is the complete opposite!”
♡ . — ꒰ 2 ꒱
୨୧ abby who flushes at your comment — cute? no one had ever called her notes “cute,” that was ridiculous. she didn’t have time for your teasing when you were so adamant about your grades being in jeopardy. you chased her around campus, interrupted her cherished library time by poking around, doing absolutely nothing but cross off another useless book from your list. but for some reason your grasp around her, warm and welcoming, made her feel a little weird. she didn’t like that at all. she had no time to babysit some dumb girl that couldn’t even be bothered to pay attention to her! she was using her precious study time to help you, and you were teasing her. nonetheless your jab at her personality. she knew she was cold, distant even. but she needed to be completely focused if she wanted to get her doctorate. she didn’t want to hear that from someone like you either.
୨୧ abby scoffs, pushing you away. she shuts her notebook and sets it to her side, getting up from her place next to you. she lets out a heavy breath before staring right at you. “look, seriously, i have better things to do. if you aren’t going to try then you need to get out.” you’re pouting almost immediately, your eyes finding hers too. glossy and big. abby’s almost exasperated — you’re a grown woman looking at her like that. but the more she stares at you like this, the more she starts feeling the horrible twist of guilt in her stomach. shit, she thinks. maybe i was a little too harsh.
୨୧ she doesn’t want you to know she feels bad, so after a while of your very unconvincing puppy eyes and finding her will power, she sits back down and opens up her notes again. a smile spreads across your face instantly, and abby does her best to ignore it. you’re a pretty girl, dumb and incredibly annoying yes, but so pretty. she would be an idiot if she said otherwise, but she continues on, grumbling a “pay attention this time, no more talking.” you nod eagerly. she can’t help but take a few glances at you when you’re reading over her notes for yourself.
୨୧ you and abby spent the rest of the afternoon going over concepts you struggled with, and abby hates to admit it, but you weren’t so bad. you were smarter than you acted. yeah, you struggled with the most basic topics, but you eventually got them after a while. (with a lot of re-explaining from abby, a heavy sigh from her when you couldn’t answer her questions) you were funny too, and even made her laugh occasionally, but abby always covered it up with a cough. you both had gone through everything you were struggling with, and abby found it… endearing? to see you try so hard. the way your tongue poked out when you were working through a problem, when you scribbled down little mental notes to keep track. she found herself staring at you a lot, embarrassingly enough, and abby tried to keep herself busy when she caught herself — picking up a random textbook from her pile and flipping through it.
୨୧ over the course of exam season, abby was spending a lot of time with you. it annoyed her still, that her carefully constructed routine was suddenly destroyed by some girl that put her energy into fictional literature rather than actual important reading, but she was getting used to it. she even started waiting for you to pack up your things when the lecture ended, slowly putting away her books and electronics just so you had enough time to walk up to her. abby always greeted you with a blank stare, an eye roll if you were lucky, but you’d never know she purposely slowed herself down for you. she didn’t know why either. it’s like her body did it on autopilot, and now her routine consisted of her studies and you. walking to the library together, her telling you to focus when you got sidetracked, plus the lengthy hours of studying in her dorm room. it was her new routine.
♡ . — ꒰ 3 ꒱
୨୧ when abby finally finishes all her exams, she takes a lot of time relaxing in her dorm. she continues reading up on chapters she wanted to smooth over when she hears a small knock at her door. of course, it’s you, and you let yourself in with your laptop held tightly to your chest. “abs, i think i’m gonna die. this last exam is gonna kill me.” abby groans at your dramatics, “do not call me abs,” but she pulls out her little table anyway and you both sit next to each other. you’re pulling up the exam practice questions like clockwork, and you run her through the ones you didn’t understand.
୨୧ you’re almost an hour into it, and abby can tell you aren’t focusing. you’re constantly spacing out, interrupting her to talk about a new book coming out, and you aren’t grasping anything at all. she made a little quiz just for you, and you hadn’t gotten anything right. abby runs a hand through her hair, breathing out a deep sigh. she closes your laptop and places the pen right back into your hand. you stare at her confused.
୨୧ “if you get a question right, i’ll give you something. how about that?” abby proposes, your eyes darting from her own to her lips. abby is a little taken aback, you’re bold, you make it so obvious. but she patiently waits for your answer anyway. “like what?” you reply quietly, and the air is suddenly thick with tension. it’s too quiet.
୨୧ “whatever you want.” abby was done with her own exams. she could afford to be reckless for a little. maybe she’d regret it in a few weeks, but with the way you’re staring at her, the way you’ve been staring at her, she knows exactly what you want. she couldn’t go back now. and abby couldn’t lie to herself either. she was getting distracted — thoughts about what your lips would feel like, what it’d be like if your bodies were so close that she started smelling like your perfume, the stolen glances when you both pretended to be working, she knew. and you knew it too.
୨୧ “then…” you answer, no elaboration, you’re shifting up to tug your shorts down. abby bites the inside of her cheek when she sees how perfectly your panties fit your ass, the material hugging it like it was made for you. she hasn’t taken her eyes off you the moment you moved, and she should be upset at the fact you just discarded your clothes on the floor, messily, but she didn’t care. her hand reached out to touch your hip before she could even realize, caressing you softly. you smile at her, that stupid smile abby insisted was so annoying, before you turn your attention to the makeshift quiz she made for you. abby shuffles closer to see you work, watching as your hand moves to answer.
୨୧ you think long and hard before answering, circling one of the multiple choice answers abby provided. it’s correct. abby doesn’t say it, but her hand moves to slip down the front of your panties. she leaves it there, a hitch in your breath when she’s just over where you needed her the most. the room feels so hot, abby thinks. was it always this hot? you continue on to the second question, your brain working overtime to focus on the right choice — it’s hard when abby’s warm hand is over your cunt, the fact that you’re almost indecent while abby is fully clothed. you throb at the thought.
୨୧ you shakily circle another answer, an approving hum from abby. she shoves her hand in deeper, now moving her fingers up and down your folds. you’re already so wet, and you just barely started. you can feel her watching your every move, peering from right above your shoulder. you go to the third question, one you thought you knew, circling confidently. abby continues her slow pace across your aching pussy, “no, not that one.” you groan, frustrated, she’s going too slow and it’s making you crave for more. your brain is starting to feel fuzzy.
୨୧ you get to question five, and abby had started to move faster, her fingers circling your clit and rubbing at your entrance, teasing, you moan when she rubs over your clit again — “focus,” she mumbles in your ear, continuing her pace. you do your best to. you glance over the answers for the question and circle, abby rubbing at you even quicker. a strangled “abby!” is pulled from your throat, feeling her lips at your neck. “c’mon, next one. you don’t wanna fail, do you?” you shake your head, and with a tighter grip on her pen, you move down to the next one. you’re so wet, and you can hear yourself if you listen close enough.
୨୧ you miraculously answer the next three questions correctly, and when you circle your next answer, it’s like abby was waiting — she pushes a thick finger inside of your waiting cunt immediately, a loud squelch at the contact. you’re gasping, abby pulling you onto her lap so smoothly you don’t even realize, and she’s spreading your legs with ease. she’s thrusting it in deep, slowly, so slowly that you’re squirming at every push. it’s not fast enough, and you know if you don’t get this next one right, she’s going to keep it this way. your head is buzzing, and it takes you four attempts to read question nine properly. you’re circling your best guess, and fuck. abby bites hard into the side of your neck, your hips bucking at the pain. “we went over that, stupid girl..” her mean words should bother you, but you feel yourself clench at the name. stupid, stupid, stupid. maybe you were, but that didn’t matter right now. your neck was stinging with pain and it was making you drip.
୨୧ “guess you don’t wanna come if you’re not taking this seriously?” abby laughs condescendingly, her voice right against your ear. you moan at her tone, and it’s not long before you’re trying to push down on her fingers, wanting to fuck yourself till’ you finish. but abby’s not that nice, never had been, and she completely pulls her fingers out of you. you’re empty suddenly, feeling a glob of slick pour out of your cunt. you’re whimpering, noisy and pathetic. “please, abs i can’t—“
୨୧ abby takes her free hand and grips your chin tightly, turning your focus back to the paper in front of you. it’s blurry, and your grasp on the pen seems to be getting looser. “you have one more, you wanted me to teach you right? so do it. don’t waste my time.” abby lets go of you, shoving two fingers inside of you without warning. it feels like you were shocked, shivers running down your spine. the stretch is painful, so sudden, but you’re clenching so tightly around her that abby can’t help but laugh at you. “it’s just one question, you shouldn’t have been so desperate if you can’t even do this.”
୨୧ tears are pooling in your eyes, your cheeks red from the humiliation. you’re reading over the last question as best as you can, your entire body shaking from the pressure inside of you. abby mutters something along the lines of, “following me around like a dumb puppy, you’re embarrassing” and it makes you wetter. you can’t think straight. you find two words that you recognize and circle the answer you think is right — you can feel abby press a kiss into your hair, “who would’ve thought? maybe you aren’t so fuckin’ dumb after all.”
୨୧ a sigh of relief falls from your lips, feeling abby move inside of you. she’s thrusting into you as roughly as she can now, deep, calling you a stupid mutt in your ear, you’re gripping at her thighs when she continues fucking into your pussy like an animal, digging deep into that spot. you gasp when she brushes over it. “right here, huh? making you feel good here?” she’s curling her fingers up into you, practically bruising it with how hard she’s pressing against it. you choke out her name, moans and whimpers streaming from your lips before you come hard on her fingers. you’re twitching, clenching tightly around her digits, abby’s lips are on yours and she’s licking into your mouth. you can’t feel anything for a few seconds.
୨୧ abby gently fucks you through it, looking over your paper from where you both sat. she smiles down at you, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “not bad, i think you’ll pass.”
tag list ♡
@hyperbabes
#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#abby x reader#abby x fem reader#💐 anon ♡#ella writes ── .ꔫ abby anderson ♡
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SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO

summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.
cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.
a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).
word count: 3,873
It was dangerous.
Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it.
Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone.
It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play.
Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want.
You know the real thing is much bigger.
And there it was.
The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place.
Is it? I don’t remember.
Then come over and I’ll remind you.
But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either.
You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t.
You’re just horny.
That’s right.
Another message.
For you.
Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again.
You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo.
He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he?
And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message.
Should I show you what you’re missing?
And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist.
What’s your new address?
Fuck.
And that’s what you were going to get done tonight.
You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight.
You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off.
“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?”
“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.
“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.
“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,”
“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,”
You glare at him, “Gojo-“
“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.
“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you.
And you were already addicted to the feeling.
If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.”
But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator.
You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?”
And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between.
But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“
“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,”
“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?”
“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns.
“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,”
And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,”
But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?”
“Gojo-“
“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?”
“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper.
“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,”
“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“
And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface.
“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove.
And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break.
“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver.
“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do.
You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds.
You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,”
You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“
“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast.
“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,”
“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple.
“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,”
You grit your teeth, “No-"
“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats.
You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,”
And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?”
You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,” and he raises an eyebrow.
“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,”
“Really?” And he tilts his head.
“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment.
You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them.
Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead.
He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,”
“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him.
“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,”
And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,”
And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans.
“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers.
“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.
“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw.
You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,”
And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,”
“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“
“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit.
“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again.
And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”
And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,”
And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,”
And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch.
“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“
“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,”
“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,”
“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,”
And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider.
“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you.
And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him.
“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.
He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“
“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,”
And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?”
His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,”
“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips.
“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?”
And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name.
He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,”
And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?”
His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“
You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"
“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?”
You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”
And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?”
“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning.
And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.”
“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway.
“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,”
“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer.
And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.”
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfiction#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo fluff
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Your writing is excellent 👌 Could you please write some more about daryl and reader getting into fights cause he doesn’t feel like he deserves her and he’s trynna push her away because he thinks she should go get someone better

Insufferable
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Angst. Fluff. Angry declarations of love. Daryl is kind of an ass, but we love him. Alexandria Era.
A/N: Well, I took my sweet ass time with this, didn't I? In what I hope is adequate penance, I am finishing up a smutty, romantic part 2 for this.
-
It’s not that he’s avoiding her. It’s that he’s been really busy, with things he’s actively volunteered for and made up to get away and okay so maybe he’s avoiding her. They’ve not been in Alexandria long, but she thought when he finally settled between the walls, stopped being so alert that he’d settle into some kind of routine like they had before. It had lasted a few days, maybe a week; He’d roll over in an honest to god bed, kiss her awake just as the sun started peeking through. Maybe its that this was more than they’d had before, maybe it’s the change; maybe it’s the goddamn comment someone made about ‘how that animal got a woman like that’, but whatever it is that set him off made him go into recluse mode quicker than his bolts fly.
He's been sleeping on the couch, pretending the plush bed makes his back ache. She believed him, of course, he’d never had a bed so soft in his whole life, not even when he was a kid. He pretends to have a cold so she can’t kiss him, and why would she think he was lying to her? But now? Two weeks of grunts and nods in place of words. Two weeks of flinching out of her touch like her fingertips are made of flames. She feels like they’re back at the prison when she first arrived and where he’d barely speak to her. He’d only just started being vulnerable with her before the place fell, nothing like the apocalypse to set things back ad-nauseum.
She can ignore most of it. The end of the damn world teaches you to ignore a lot of things, and she’s just scared enough of losing him that she doesn’t want to push it, but she can’t ignore the way his eyes look sunken, or the way his hand has started to shake a little at dinner when he sits far away from her and pretends he’s not close to dropping his fork. She can’t ignore the way he’s losing weight because he’s barely using the fucking fork to feed himself and he’s barely drinking and the tell-tale signs of stress that are weighing him down.
“Do we need to talk about this?”
He snaps his head up in surprise, leaning away from the tree he’d just sagged against after losing a bit of his footing. She’d followed him, naturally; watched the way his gait is off just slightly, as he tracks footprints. The fact he didn’t hear her following, being who he is and all, makes her panic.
“Nah” He dismisses, waving a hand as he pushes himself off the decaying sycamore. Even the trees look fucked these days.
“You’ve been ignoring me”
“Jus’ busy”
“I saw on the news last night that everything’s going back to normal”
It takes him longer than it should to respond.
“What?”
“Oh I thought we were playing the lying to each other game since you’re spouting such bullshit”
It takes all of his willpower to keep his lip from quirking upwards in a smile. He’s in a terrible fucking mood and his body feels like its made of lead but she’s always been funny in an acerbic way that speaks straight to his soul. It was the first thing that drew them together, she met every one of his sarcastic barbs with one of her own until they became inside jokes and affection. She’d never been afraid of him, of his temper or his quips; but today he wishes she were, just a little, so it would make this easier.
“Why ya out here buggin’ me?”
“You didn’t want to spend time together?”
“Plenty of other people ya could be spendin’ time with”
“You want me to have a girls night or something?” She asks with a quirk of a brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she rolls her eyes.
“Whole lot of available men at home ya could be botherin’ with”
She feels physically the way the word ‘home’ warms her from the inside before being stamped out like a boot covered in ice. He’s infuriating sometimes, has been the whole time she’s known him; he gets inside of his own head and goes quiet more than she’d like, but this is new, uncharted territory.
“Tobin, Scott, that tall one with the hair, whiney voice”
“Descriptive, but you mean Carter” she retorts, because carter does have a distinctly whiney voice and he is alarmingly tall and because she can’t bring herself to work out what he’s actually saying. She’s never felt unstable with Daryl before.
“Yeah”
The anger than runs through her almost makes her shake. Head shaking in disbelief she tilts her head up to meet his eyes, lets him see the fire that he’s lit behind them, the ire he’s seen but that has never been aimed at him before. He swallows around nothing, but nothing feels like shards of glass, mirroring her stance but entirely devoid of fury, replaced instead with a heavy stone of guilt in his stomach.
“You want to write me a list of these men you want me to fuck or are you happy just telling me?” She laughs sardonically through tears that threaten to spill over. Daryl has always been complicated but he’s never made her feel like a piece of meat before. “Lucky me, I’ve got my very own apocalypse pimp!”
He breathes heavily, fingers clenched so hard the muscles in his arms bulge, jealousy flaring in his nostrils like this ridiculous line of conversation isn’t his own damn fault. He is Daryl Dixon, though, predictable to a fault, so instead of apologising like he should, grovelling like he wants to, admitting he’s been a damn fool, he snaps.
“The fuck ya with me for when ya could have anyone?”
“Because I love you, you insufferable fucking asshole! I love you and you keep breaking my fucking heart my insisting I can’t!”
He takes a step back as if she’s slapped him. Of course it would be her saying she loves him for the first time that shocks him, makes him flinch, not the frustration she’d levied at him since she’d followed. He never thought she could; he’s not a stupid man, he knows there must be some feelings on her end, she’s made that clear. He’s been stone in love with her since day three of knowing her, but he’s always been too wrapped up in his own shit to say it. It should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? He’s certainly felt loved.
“Ain’t ever meant to hurt ya”
“I’m not an accessory you get to trade off to another man when you get bored of me”
He’s silent for a beat that feels ten times longer than it is. He’s horrified at himself for both implications. He loves her so much it hurts, loves her so much he doesn’t think he deserves it.
“I didn’t mean it like tha-”
“If you don’t want me that’s fine, but you don’t get to decide that I don’t want you”
“I do want-“
“And you definitely don’t get to decide to mistreat yourself, okay?”
“I wasn’t-“
“You were”
“Dammit woman let me finish a sentence”
“Sorry, I just assumed since you’ve been not using sentences at all near me you might want to keep pretending I don’t exist”
“I didn’t-yeah I did, ‘m sorry” He huffs under his breath, almost a laugh if he trusted the situation enough. He’s aware of how painfully ridiculous he’s being, how painfully unfair but she’s still looking at him with hope he hasn’t squashed out of her yet so he braves forward steps until he can touch her; palm up on her shoulder to bring her in for a hug. “I love ya too, ya know?”
She burrows her head into his chest, nodding despite the left over annoyance. She knows, has always know, he’s spent their entire time together showing it so plainly he’d be a fool to deny it.
“I’m sorry I called you an insufferable asshole”
He grunts against the top of her head, peppering a small kiss into her hair.
“I am”
“Well, yeah, but we don’t name call”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead: daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead: daryl dixon spoilers#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#writing prompt#daryl requests#twd#writing community#daryl x oc#daryl dixon x oc#the walking dead daryl#daryl x reader#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon x female reader
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chromokopia dr



shay note — some people on live said they wouldn’t mind me posting my scenarios since i have a shit ton of em and i’m taking y’all up on that! i don’t usually write in 1st person but for my scenarios i like to almost “mimic” how i feel it would be written and collins is known to write in 1st so. also since i’m in my hg bag rn i thought id go with that first. read at your own peril!!
the walls of the cave stood a few meters high. tall enough to stand but not big enough to accommodate a small group of starving tributes. dark green moss collected at the tops of the opening, making the whole cave smell like some sort of rainforest bungalow and not the 74th arena.
but it didn’t matter. with only two of us now, katniss’s injured body was able to stretch further out—taking up more than enough space with her long limbs—her head weakly placed on the very bottom of the rocky structure.
i sat next to her. watching her every move. counting her breaths. they were stronger two days ago. now they come slower. thinner. labored. god, give me a miracle.
my head bobs ever so slightly, eyes once wide and alert, now turned to measly slits as i try to get some shut eye during my watch. i’ve barely slept since rue. my ally. my second in command. my friend. i don’t wanna talk about it.
“cinder,” her voice comes out in a whisper. not that she meant to but i couldn’t help but grin at the sound. it was like a songbird in the distance that i know was closing in.
“hmm?” i respond in an attempt to share that same sing-songy tone. my eyes are open again as i look down at the girl eyeing me closely.
“you should sleep,” katniss says, digging her palms into the ground to lift herself up. “i’ll take watch.”
i furrowed my brows. no. not when she can barely move without clenching her jaw to brace for the ache of her infected leg that was sure to spread if we didn’t get some goddamn medicine in here. i imagined haymitch, who was probably working overtime. gathering sponsors. pooling the funds to send us one last, final gift. or maybe he was laughing at us. maybe the whole capitol was. just waiting for the next tribute to die. i wouldn’t let that be katniss.
“you need as much rest as you can get,” i tell her firmly. my mama always said the body heals itself as long as you get enough sleep. sleep was rare in a place like twelve, where starvation was the largest cause of death second only to exhaustion.
it wasn’t abnormal to see a mines worker literally drop dead. at least not in the seam.
my hands found the tassels of her jacket and smoothed down over her chest, finishing at her sides as if i was anchoring myself to her. they remained there, like i would drown without this connection.
“what about you?” she asked me softly, her stormy eyes being the only thing keeping her from looking completely worn down. still bright. still fighting.
“what about me?” a grin etches into my face. i can’t help it. i shouldn’t tease. not now. teasing took more energy.
“you’re tired. you’ll burn yourself out watching over me.”
“i’ll take that chance.” i leaned in closer, pressing a chaste but necessary kiss to her parted lips.
from the way she kissed me back, i could tell that her fight would end soon. i’d never felt my best friend be so weak. so vulnerable. she was a force back home. solid. dependable, all the kids in that family of hers were. well, minus prim.
“katniss…” i began, but she cuts me off with a tight whisper—
“when did you stop needing me?”
i blinked, pulling away. looked into her eyes to see if she was serious or not. she looked back at me, not moving. bare and unshaking.
“i always need you,” the answer came fast. naturally. “that’s not gonna change.”
the truth hung between us. and i finally saw her mouth twitch up into the smallest smile.
“what?” i asked.
“say it again,” she says. that’s when my laugh came as i shifted back into my sitting position, hands coming down to rest on my lap now.
“don’t push it.” i warned. then, as if i couldn’t stay away from her for long, i brought myself closer to the wall. nestled against her, laying carefully enough as to not to hurt her more. her arms encircled me without hesitation. her head resting on top of mine
“you should still sleep,” she suggested as the hand she’d placed on my back rubbed circles on me. i breathed deeply, letting my eyelids droop again.
“only a little while,” i relented finally.
it wasn’t like i had much of a choice. i was fading fast. so we stayed like that. limb to limb. until katniss drifted off and so did i.
and while katniss managed to fallen asleep with her fingers laced into the fabric at my hip, i woke when i heard it—
that quiet, distinct whir of air.
i snapped my head up just in time to see the silver parachute descend like a ghost from the mouth of the cave.
i almost couldn’t believe it.
it lands softly, awaiting my hands to pry it open. it’s wrapped in gold and red ribbon. our colors.
the ones cinna chose.
i pried myself from katniss, crawling towards the opening without even the slightest regard for what could lie above. i didn’t care. this was my miracle. i cracked the lid and inhaled before i even know what it is.
bread. cheese. warm broth. a pouch of dried apricot. and clean bandages.
a genuine laugh caught in my throat as my stomach clenched at the lovely smell. i don’t remember ever being this hungry in my life. for a second, it feels like something good made its way through. but tucked between the bread and the cheese was a little white slip of paper. i looked back at katniss’s sleeping form, her arm outstretched to me like even in her dreams, she was waiting for my return. i unfolded the paper, a strange sense of dread overcame me.
“so they like the kissing. good to know. keep this up and you’ll have the whole damn capitol clawing to send you both home.”
– H
suddenly, the warmth from earlier felt like something i’m not allowed to have anymore. because with every genuine kiss i press to katniss’s lips, i now make myself the capitol’s number one bitch.
my eyes stung but i fended off the tears. no time. i fold the note back up and bring the gift to katniss. the smell alone makes her stir.
i don’t tell her about the message—i can’t—so i just say, “they sent something. it’s not medicine but it should help get your strength back.”
she has a look of sleepy surprise written on her face, none the wiser. and i hope, for a second, that she sees through this ploy. sees through the reason for the sudden shift in the capitol’s favor. and maybe she does. maybe it’s me who can’t seem to remember that this is a game. a performance. that everything here, in all it’s surrealistic glory is just a graveyard perfumed in cedar wood and moss.
that this food was not the first thing they’ve served to us on a silver platter.
it was each other.
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too sweet. || a.m.

a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !
wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)
Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.
He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.
You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of you from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.
It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.
He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.
The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.
His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.
When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.
At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.
You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.
Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.
#devnmon writes#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan blurb#rdr2 fandom#arthur morgan#arthur morgan fanfiction#ryes ff
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Ecstasy
Part 6 - Cry for Love
Genre: Soloist!Baekhyun x Reader, angst, fluff, smut 18+ audiences only MDNI
WC: 5.7k
Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo
Warnings for this chapter: smut (non explicit), alcohol consumption, drug use
Masterlist
Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“You’re a dumbass, you know that right?”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. I know I fucked up. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore.”
Chanyeol let out a long sigh, trying to muster up some sympathy for his friend's predicament, but finding it quite difficult. He’d seen it coming, more or less. Something terrible was bound to happen with how reckless Baekhyun was being. He took a sip of his beer before setting it back down on the bar, doing his best to at least look sorry for his friend when he glanced back at him.
“You’ve tried calling her right?”
“No, well not since that day at least. I don’t know if I should. Her friend told me not to, and I get it. But I really do want to see her again, and apologize.”
The whole time Baekhyun stared, seemingly into nothingness. He hated how much he missed her, even after only a few days.
“You should at least call to apologize, you owe her that much.”
“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me at all? I don’t want to make things even worse.”
“Just call. The worst she can do is not pick up.”
“And if she does? What would I even say?”
“The truth.”
“No fucking way.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You don’t say.”
Baekhyun chugged down his drink, getting the bartender's attention and ordering another round. He was already drunk, but it still wasn’t enough to erase what he felt.
“Why did you freak out so bad? I mean she told you she didn’t mean it. I know acid is one hell of a drug but jesus. You were way too goddamn harsh.”
“I almost said it back.” He responded, staring blankly at the counter before him.
Chanyeol's eyes went wide.
“I was so upset that that even crossed my mind. And if I had said it, who fucking knows what would’ve happened.”
“Well, do you?”
Baekhyun just glared at him, refusing to say anything.
“You clearly care about her a lot, I don’t know why you can’t just admit that. I think she could be really good for you, if you just got over your own bullshit.”
Baekhyun leaned forward until his forehead was on the bar, both hands on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember ever resenting himself so deeply, and that was saying something.
Chanyeol was right, and they both knew it.
The guilt made it hard to do anything more than drink himself into numbness. He'd probably ruined any chance he had at something real with her, even if that in itself also made him uncomfortable. As much as he wanted to try and fix things, he knew deep down that he'd probably just end up hurting her again anyway. In the end though, the side of him that still wanted her was much stronger, and far less rational.
Every time he thought about that day, and how she must've felt after he kicked her out of his apartment, his chest would get tight, the dread quickly becoming more than he could handle. He’d had an awful time himself, the trip turning downright terrifying, and he’d been inside his own apartment the whole time. Outside, alone, she must’ve felt she was in a living nightmare. He was disgusted with himself, with how cruel he’d become, and all because of a few words that she didn’t even mean.
Eventually he decided that it would be worse not to say anything. Even if she didn’t want to hear from him, he had to at least try to tell her how sorry he was, otherwise the guilt would keep chipping away at his sanity until it consumed him whole.
It took a while for him to get to the point where he actually had the strength to pick up the phone and pull up her contact. Even then, he just sat in his apartment, staring at his phone, debating with himself. He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous, the idea of talking to her after he’d fucked up so badly, or the very real possibility that she would simply decline the call all together. Losing her completely was more terrifying than he was willing to admit to himself.
Finally, he called. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he listened to it ring, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself with little success. When she picked up, his heart nearly stopped. He tried to say something, but his voice failed him.
“Baekhyun?”
“Hi.” He eventually managed to get out, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. He took another deep breath, finally gathering himself a bit before continuing. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She didn’t say anything. She could hear the lack of consistency in his voice.
“I don’t know what to say, I’m just so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up.”
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why did you kick me out?”
“I don’t know.”
He heard her sigh in disappointment. It was a lie of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth.
“Look, I appreciate the apology, but I really don’t want to do this over the phone. If you have anything you need to say to me, I’d rather hear it in person.”
She hung up before he could respond, and he wasted no time getting into his car to drive to her place.
Her pain had been unbearable. Even after several days sober his harshness stayed with her, bringing with it a constant dull ache in her chest. She barely ate or slept, but knowing that he at least seemed to feel bad about what he’d done gave her a bit of relief.
Despite Suhyun’s insistence that she cut him off completely, she’d still been waiting, hoping to hear something. She wanted an apology, an explanation, something that would help her feel a bit better, and she wanted him to look her in the eyes as he said it.
The knock on her door, not even 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, came as a shock.
On the other side, Baekhyun worried he might actually pass out. He assumed that she would tell him how awful he was and then send him right back home, and he thought he was mentally prepared for that, but once he was actually there he realized how wrong he’d been. The ground seemed to sway beneath him, his stomach twisting, threatening to expel the lunch he'd just had.
The door swung open and they met eyes, Baekhyun bracing himself for the worst.
She let him in, and his expression was something she’d never seen before. His eyes were glassy, the anxiety behind them clear as day. She could see the nervous tension in the way he fidgeted, hands clammy, heart racing.
His eyes squeezed shut, and he mustered up all the courage he could, though still feeling utterly pitiful.
“I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again, but I need you to know how awful I feel about what I did. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am.” He eventually said, barely keeping it together.
To his shock, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
Tears soon dampened her forehead, feeling the quiet tremors of his chest as he fell apart. He held her close, cradling her against his chest, the closeness allowing his body to fully relax for the first time in nearly a week. Somehow though, he felt even guiltier than if she’d told him off, at least he would've deserved that.
As hurt as she might’ve been, she’d still missed him. That day, before everything went downhill, he'd shown her a kind of happiness she hadn’t even known was possible. And even before that, when she was with him, the good moments were so powerful that they easily overshadowed all the bad. Nobody else had ever made her feel that before.
She didn’t want whatever they had to end, even though she knew logically that it would be idiotic to forgive him after he’d been so cruel. She cared about him too much, she was too attached, she still wanted him despite it all, and that was probably the worst part. Despite how terrible he'd made her feel that day, the potential for good was still there. The good times she'd had with him were some of the best of her life, and giving that up wasn't easy. For her, it was impossible. The highs were so high, that the lows were somehow still worth dealing with.
It didn’t make sense, he'd been absolutely certain that she'd be furious.
“How do you not hate me right now? Are you really not mad at me?”
She looked up at him, one hand coming to cup his damp cheek, tears of her own coming to mirror his. It was strange to see him of all people cry, but oddly comforting, too. It told her just how much he regretted what he’d done, that he cared, that he hated how badly he’d hurt her. He’d never shown that sort of vulnerability before, the cool facade he usually put on, now completely shattered. It gave her the reassurance she'd been craving so badly. Maybe forgiving him wouldn't be so dumb after all, since he'd hopefully never hurt her like that again.
“I don’t hate you. I’m just glad you’re sorry, I was so worried that you were still mad at me, since I didn’t hear from you. I thought I ruined everything.”
He quickly shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad at you, if anyone ruined anything it was me. I never had a right to be angry with you in the first place, I was being completely awful and irrational.”
She couldn’t help the small smile that crept its way onto her lips, finally assured that he didn’t harbor any resentment towards her for what she’d said, that he felt genuine remorse.
“I was afraid to call after that day because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me, or if it would be best to just leave you alone. Your friend told me not to contact you, and I can see where she’s coming from.”
“When did you talk to my friend?”
“I called you later that day. Once I snapped out of my own bullshit I realized how unsafe it was for you to be outside alone like that and I wanted to make sure you were okay, and apologize. She answered and told me not to contact you anymore, that I’ve fucked up your life enough already, and she’s probably right about that.”
“She never even mentioned that you called.” She pouted, making a mental note to call Suhyun out next time they met up.
“I’m glad she was there. I was so scared something happened to you, at least when she picked up I knew you were safe.”
“You know, I might not hate you, but I am still mad at you. I wish you could at least tell me why you reacted like that.”
As forgiving as she was, the awfulness of that day was impossible to forget. The drug caused her fear and confusion to materialize in everything she saw, victimizing her until the high eventually faded, and the horror of it stuck with her. That was something she couldn't let go so easily.
He ran one hand through his hair, and when he didn’t answer right away she pulled him along with her to sit down on the couch.
“I wish I could explain it to you, something in me just.. snapped. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships, that kind of stuff, it fucks with my head.”
She swallowed, painfully reminded of that hard truth. “Why?”
He shook his head, if he tried to explain everything they’d probably be there all day, and she’d never be able to see him the same way again. He wouldn’t be able to get it all out without more tears, either. That was a can of worms he just couldn’t get into.
“You should’ve taken it as a compliment you know, you fucked me so good I thought I was in love with you.”
He forced a smile, but even that caused something unpleasant to twist up inside him.
“If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do it.”
She shrugged. It was clear that he'd never be able to give her what she really wanted anyway.
Still, at least he cared for her. He wouldn't have gotten so emotional if she didn't mean something to him.
“Are you busy today?” He asked.
“Not really, no.”
“I could order us something to eat, or we could go somewhere, whatever you want. I just- I missed you.”
‘I missed you.’
Even if it would be short lived, she wanted to enjoy the new sensitivity he was finally showing her, so she agreed.
They stayed at her place, ordering in and opening up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t long at all until they both settled comfortably into the couch, still more relieved than anything. She’d missed him just as much.
She’d grown used to the confident, wild, sexy side of him, but now, something about him felt fundamentally different. Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen him cry, but whatever it was, it felt warmer, softer, a side of him she knew very few people got to see.
They spent hours on her couch together in comfortable silence, the show on the TV long forgotten as they kissed and held each other. She’d laid herself atop his chest, one hand landing on her waist, and the other at the nape of her neck, keeping her lips glued to his own.
His touch was gentle, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin after having missed her so much. The path his hands took across her back, shoulders, and neck full of adoration. He never ventured any further, because it didn't feel appropriate, he didn't want her to think that he'd only come back for sex. Just getting to kiss and touch her again already felt like a small miracle.
However that didn't stop his body from reacting to her, now that she lay flush to his chest between his parted legs. As she deepened the kisses her body sunk into him even further, and she felt the line of hardness beneath his sweats. When she rocked her pelvis into him, he let out a groan, hands holding firmly onto her hips.
“Fuck, don't do that.”
Their eyes met, and she pouted at him, “Why not?”
“I don't think this is a good idea, I came over here to apologize, not try to get you to sleep with me again.”
As he spoke her lips attached themselves to his neck, leaving a path of soft kisses from his jaw down to the collar of his shirt. “And if I want to anyway?”
She pulled his shirt down a bit and sucked on the skin of his collarbone, eliciting another moan.
“You're sure about this?”
“You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?”
Part of her was skeptical, too, but as always, her desire for him overpowered any trace of caution. His touch, his voice, it all drew her in beyond the bounds of reason. She just wanted to feel close to him. Laying there together innocently had been nice, but she inevitably slipped into more troublesome desires.
Baekhyun didn't respond, instead, his hands finally slid beneath the threshold of her clothes. The warmth of her skin beneath his hands caused him to sigh. He, too, had missed this.
The sex felt like an apology. Where he’d been hungry, even desperate, in the past, he now took his time. It wasn’t one night stand sex, or even meaningless fling sex. It was the kind of sex that happens when two people know and care about each other. She let him set the pace, and he decided to be slow and intentional, he set that tone. The praises that passed his lips lost their teasing edge, his gratitude stronger than his usual desire to frustrate her. More than anything he wanted to savor this, to show her his devotion the only way he knew how.
Several orgasms later, they both collapsed into a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs on her couch. Baekhyun still refused to let go, keeping her in his arms for as long as she would allow, which turned out to be a good long while, much to his delight.
Baekhyun hadn’t intended to spend the entire day with her in such a way, he was just so relieved that she didn’t hate him. Somehow his head ended up on her lap, and when she began to play with his hair, a satisfied sigh left him. He'd always loved the feeling, and how easily it would relax him.
Several sleepless nights had left him exhausted, and as her hands stayed in his hair, he drifted off to sleep, resting more peacefully than he had in a long time.
His sleeping face brought a smile to her own. She didn’t move, letting him use her as a pillow and nap through the afternoon. Every once in a while she would notice a change in his expression, brows knit in what seemed like distress, and she wondered what he could be dreaming about. So much of his mind was still a mystery to her, one that she desperately wanted to solve.
When he eventually woke back up it was already dark outside, and he figured it was time to head home. He didn't want to leave, and even thought about asking her to let him spend the night, but after everything it just didn't feel right. He didn't want to overstay his welcome.
“Has anyone talked to you about the anniversary party yet?” He asked as he got his things together.
She shook her head.
“It’s a fairly big thing the company does every year, it’s mostly for artists and higher ups, and I know I’m going, so I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date?”
‘Date’
That one word was so unexpected coming from him, she found herself momentarily frozen.
“Uh.. sure, yeah. When is it?”
He told her the details, and she still couldn't shake the implications of that one word. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she wondered if maybe he was finally ready to at least hint at something more serious between them.
The day of he picked her up as usual, noticing the fitted suit he wore as she got into his car. She knew it was a rather formal affair, but he looked so handsome, she still became a little nervous.
“You look beautiful,” He murmured, looking her up and down before leaning in for a quick kiss.
The event was held in the largest ballroom of a luxury hotel full of opulent decorations, and even had a gorgeous outdoor area lit up for the approaching holidays. She'd worn one of her favorite dresses, but even so, she felt a little silly walking in together, arm in arm with him. The guest list was full of a-list celebrities, both from their company, as well as some others, along with various executives. She felt all the familiar uncertainties from the first night she'd met him rush back.
He must've sensed how tense she became, squeezing her hand and giving her a reassuring smile. The softness of it had her leaning further into him.
She looked up at him, his profile outlined by the lights of the party, and she remembered just who she was there with. And not only that, but he'd said it himself, she was his date.
It emboldened her, knowing that no matter Baekhyun's history or reputation, she was the one on his arm, and the one he’d be going home with after.
They headed towards the bar for a drink, and she still remained quiet, too deep in thought to get anything out.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” He told her, “let's just try to have a good time, yeah?”
He pulled out a chair for her and they took a seat, each ordering their first round of the night. Baekhyun did his best to lighten the mood, complimenting her, joking around and flirting all in an attempt to see her smile. And it worked for the most part, though the constant interruptions always pulled her right back into her insecurities.
Every few minutes someone would come up to him, and he would talk to them as if she wasn't even there. By the third time, she started to wonder why she'd been invited at all.
She'd been zoning out, staring at the array of bottles behind the bar when she heard her name. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face.
Joohyun. The same woman he'd ditched her for at Chanyeol’s birthday.
Baekhyun had introduced her, and Joohyun raised an eyebrow at the sight of them.
“You're here together?” Joohyun asked, a glimpse of something sinister in her eyes. Her face, beautiful as she was, did little to hide the ugliness apparent underneath.
She started to nod but Baekhyun spoke up first. “We're just friends.”
Joohyun smirked, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. “Well, it's always good to see you.”
She turned to walk away, and as Baekhyun looked back at his date, it became apparent how pissed she was.
She chugged down the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar and getting up. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, following her.
“Really _____?”
“Excuse me?”
“I can see you're mad, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?”
“I thought I was your date! We sure as hell aren't just friends, and for you to say that to her of all people? After what happened on Chanyeol’s birthday? Really?”
“What else would we be if not friends, hm? As far as I'm concerned we are just friends.”
“I know you care about me as more than a friend”
He narrowed his eyes at her, a bitter look overtaking his face. “Do I?”
She scoffed, “You're unbelievable.”
With that she turned, walking away but he took hold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Where do you think you're going?”
“Home. I don't want to be here anymore.”
“No the fuck you're not.”
“Baekhyun, let go of me.”
He didn’t. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“No. I’m sick of you being hot and cold with me. You don’t get to treat me like that.”
His grip on her gave way, but she didn’t leave yet. His lips pressed together as his eyes squeezed shut, a heavy sigh leaving him.
“Okay. I get it. But please, stay. You don't have to talk to me. Just let me take you home later.”
“Take me home with you? Seriously?”
“It doesn’t have to be with me. I can just drop you off.”
She glared at him, almost scoffing again, but decided to just turn and walk away. When he took hold of her arm again, she glared. “If I’m staying, you could at least let me get another drink.”
He watched her sit down by herself, ordering something that looked strong.
As she sipped on her drink, she scanned the room, hoping she'd at least recognize someone. She'd almost given up, accepting that she'd probably end up drinking alone until Baekhyun was ready to go, but then she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Chanyoel’s smile was a welcome sight, as he sat himself down next to her at the bar.
“Hi! How are you? Are you here with Baekhyun?” He asked.
“Hi, yeah. Unfortunately.”
“Why's that unfortunate?”
She shook her head, “You were right about him, I fear.”
Chanyeol hummed in acknowledgment, it wasn't hard for him to imagine what could be going on.
“He's being an ass?”
“Yeah. I just don't get it. One day he's being really sweet, and then he turns around and acts like that was all bullshit. I'm tired of it. I wanted to go home, but for some reason he wants me to stay.”
“So? You can still leave. Who cares what he wants.”
She took a long sip of her drink.
“I don't want to make him mad.”
Chanyeol looked a bit confused, but still nodded. “Well, I'm here if you want company. It's a great party, it would be a shame to spend the whole night sulking at the bar.”
“Thank you.”
Soon his drink arrived, and he clinked the glass against hers.
Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen as the two made light conversation, and she was grateful to take her mind off him for a bit.
Chanyeol, now a bit tipsy, and knowing well that she wasn't pleased with his friend, seized the opportunity. He wasn't usually much of a flirt, but with her it came easily.
His compliments cheered her up enough that eventually even his dumb jokes brought a smile to her face. When both drinks were gone and he asked her to dance, she gladly accepted.
They stood, but he pulled her aside before they could make it to the dance floor. Now that they had a bit more privacy, he pulled something out of his pocket.
Pills. The same ones from the night of his birthday.
“Do you want one?” He asked, popping one for himself. She considered it for a moment, and with the night being fairly young, and Baekhyun still lingering in the back of her mind, she decided to go for it. His being a jerk didn't mean she couldn't still enjoy herself.
Dancing with Chanyeol was nice. He was respectful, his hands never venturing further than her hips or waist. He was taller, and overall larger than Baekhyun, which was probably the biggest difference she felt between the two men. She liked that about him, that he made her feel distinctly different than Baekhyun did. Baekhyun was all bold words and risky touches, while Chanyeol was quieter, more cautious. Baekhyun's hands were slender, softer, when they held onto her, delicate in their teasing touches. Chanyeol’s were calloused, stronger, anchoring her without demanding anything more.
The change of pace was well appreciated, even more so as the drug further loosened her up. She knew that Chanyeol was interested in her, sexually, romantically, or otherwise, but she didn't care. She knew he wouldn't cross any lines, especially not with Baekhyun nearby.
Eventually the drug in tandem with the crowd of bodies on the dance floor forced the two to catch a breather, ending up outside on a large balcony overlooking the city. It was quieter there, with only a few other people tolerating the cool breeze.
As she looked out at the city, and then back at Chanyeol, she had to fight back a grin. Here she was, on a beautiful, opulent hotel balcony overlooking one of the coolest cities in the world, with a devastatingly handsome rockstar at her side. Baekhyun was the last thing on her mind at that point, she was fully enraptured by the party, the drug, and the man now stepping closer to her.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, though he could see it on her face, how happy she was. She didn’t say anything, her smile speaking for itself.
“This is nice.” She said, “Really, really nice.”
Chanyeol nodded in agreement, and when their eyes met this time, neither could seem to look away. They both moved closer, the distance growing smaller and smaller, and out of instinct more than anything else, she threw her arms around his neck.
With the Seoul skyline as their backdrop, their lips met. Chanyeol took half a step back at first, surprised by her boldness, though he quickly leaned back into her. The kiss was sweet, just testing the waters, enjoying the new sensation amidst the rush of the high.
When Baekhyun shoved his friend away from her, she initially gasped. But once the surprise wore off, the abundance of happy chemicals in her brain kept her from feeling even the slightest bit upset.
Baekhyun wanted a reaction. He wanted her to yell, so he could yell back, so he could tell her and Chanyeol off for being such terrible friends. When she instead started to giggle, his blood began to boil.
“Are you two fucking serious?”
Chanyeol stayed silent, wide eyed as he watched everything unfold before him. He was relieved that his friend's attention was more focused on her.
“Are you serious? You said so yourself, we're just friends. I can kiss whoever I want.”
The lightness in her tone, her unbothered smile, it taunted him, mocked him.
His eyes turned to Chanyeol. “Did you give her drugs?”
His mouth opened to respond, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere along the way.
“Don't worry.” She said, “It's not LSD. I’m not about to say more stupid shit I don't mean.”
Baekhyun’s eyes dug into his friends, and Chanyeol knew that he was holding back. He knew his friend well enough to know when a line had been crossed.
“We're leaving.” He ordered, taking tight hold of her hand and pulling her towards the doors.
She gave Chanyeol a half-assed goodbye, frowning, but didn't resist as Baekhyun pulled them both back to his car.
“You're being an asshole again.” She commented, her tone still far too nonchalant for Baekhyun’s taste.
While she'd been off with Chanyeol, Baekhyun found a friend who offered him a generous hit of coke. The drug only amplified his shaky, delirious rage, his grip on the steering wheel tightening at her words.
“I'm being an asshole? Really?”
“Yea, I was having fun. We aren't together, you've made that abundantly clear, so I don't see what the problem is.”
“Don't play fucking innocent we both know you only did that to piss me off.”
“And why does it piss you off? Hmm?” She really hadn't done it with any malicious intent. She’d just wanted to have a good time and one thing led to another, but in her drug induced cloud of smug confidence and brutal honesty she continued on taunting him. “Because I know you care about me. You wouldn't have shown up at my apartment in tears the other day if you didn't care about me.”
At the next red light he looked over at her, the tension in his jaw and forehead clearly evident in his expression. “You will never be anything more to me than a friend and a good fuck. However you think I might feel won’t change that.”
His words stung, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “Then you don’t get to freak out when I kiss another guy.”
Baekhyun didn’t respond, but she could see the anger, he looked like he wanted to punch something.
“This is fucked.” He eventually muttered.
“You don’t say.”
“No, you don’t get it. This is bad.”
She just rolled her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the city passing by on the other side of the window.
She assumed he would be taking her back home to her apartment, and yet as he kept driving, it became clear that he was doing nothing of the sort.
“Baekhyun, where are we going? You said you would drop me off.”
“‘You’re staying with me tonight.”
“No the fuck I’m not?! I want to sleep in my own bed, far away from you. Turn around.”
“No.”
She stared at him, bewildered, but he refused to even look her way. His eyes remained fixed to the road, which was quickly approaching his building.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Still, he didn’t react, not until the pair were pulling into his building’s parking garage. He parked, turned off the engine, and locked the doors.
“I need you to stay with me tonight.” His hands remained on the wheel as he said it, anchoring himself. He stared straight ahead at the concrete wall.
“What?”
“Please, just spend the night. You can go straight to sleep. I won't bother you. But just, stay with me. Please.”
He finally looked at her. Maybe it was the drug, but the way he looked at her made something shift. He wasn’t angry, he was scared.
“Why should I?”
“Maybe you’re right. I know I can’t give you what you want, but I do care.”
“That’s not fair.”
He shook his head, wearing a pained expression as he got out of the car, opening her door and taking her hand to follow him. She did, though she still wasn’t sure why.
“Baekhyun, why the hell can’t I just get an uber home? It's not like we're gonna fuck so I don’t see the point in coming up.”
His hand was suddenly yanking on hers, pulling her close in an instant. He held her face in his hands, barely giving her time to take a breath before his lips were crashing into hers.
It was messy, needy and desperate. Baekhyun quickly pushed his tongue past her lips, tasting the lingering liquor from earlier in the night, combined with the flavor he was already addicted to. Her.
“Stop talking.” He whispered into the space between their lips when he’d finally had his fill. She pouted a little, but didn’t challenge him.
The rest of the night was silent. They went up to his apartment together, and went to bed, without sharing another word. She was getting tired anyway, and the drug made it difficult to care all that much about whatever chaos seemed to be going on in Baekhyun’s head.
When they laid down together, he pulled her in close, so close it was almost suffocating. His face pressed into the crown of her head, inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo, feeling something inside him twist into an uncomfortable knot. Still, he didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter.
His own words from earlier in the night repeated over and over in his head, until he passed out with her still wrapped firmly around him.
This is fucked. This is bad.
Really, really bad.
#baekhyun smut#baekhyun fic#baekhyun fluff#baekhyun fanfic#exo smut#exo fic#exo fluff#exo fanfic#baekhyun#exo#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop female oc
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~Blowing off steam~



Summary: You and Daryl have been dating for a while now. You guys are on the road looking for supplies and you guys got into a fight before the trip. You both get into an argument again but this time it doesn't go as planned.
Word Count: 1.7k
Genre: Angst- Pure Smut
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Breeding kink, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Daryl and reader fighting, established relationship, reader is a little insecure, Angry Sex, Dom/Sub dynamics, predator/prey dynamic, degrading, orgasm denial, oral (F), fingering, squirting, creampie
A/N: This was a request by @murdadixon girl I'm sorry this took so long! Love you💋!

You are dating the hottest man you personally have ever seen. Daryl Dixon. He is such a softie.
To most people he is big and mean and intimidating but what they don't know is when he is with you, oh god he is such a big softie. A big cute teddy bear!
You guys hardly ever get into any arguments and if you do it's over tiny, stupid petty stuff. So you never thought that your big, lovable teddy bear would be this angry at you today. Let alone get into a fight on this fine morning.
"Ya never listen! Yer hard headed! All ya ever talk about is yer self!" Daryl yells at you.
"Well you are always closed off! What do you want me to do, huh!? Talk about your goddamn favourite color? Oh wait, you never told me!" You say venomously with a frown on your face.
"Daryl you realize you never tell me anything? You never fucking talk to me! So I talk about myself instead! Your always silent so I assume you wanna hear me speak! You never tell me to shut up!" You yell getting angrier by the second.
You will admit it, you and Daryl are not the same. Complete opposites actually. He was closed off, introverted. He always strayed away from the group to be alone.
Whilst you chose to be open, extroverted. You loved pleasing people. And sometimes you thought if Daryl hated that about you.
Sometimes boys mistook your kindness for flirting and Daryl would always yell at you about it so maybe that's what this arguments about.
"Yer so dumb! Maybe you should start learnin to shut the hell up!" He yells walking away leaving you standing there.
You instantly break down into tears and cry in your room. You run to the one person you bond with the most and has a husband. Maggie.
"M-maggie" You say your voice breaking as you continue to cry.
"Oh my god. What is it hun? Who hurt ya? What happened?" Maggie asks worried.
"It's d-daryl we got in a fight and Idk what to do. he said that i never listen to him or in general. He also said that I should just learn to shut up. Am I too much for you guys? Am I not good enough for him?" You ssk heartbroken.
"God no! You are the best friend I could ever have! You are nothing but joy in this dark world! You are a reminder of beth. I see her in you everyday." Maggie says smiling.
" Daryl is just being a dick! Leave him be but he's going on a run right now if you wanna make up with him?" Maggie says.
"Ok thanks Maggie again! I can always count on you to make me feel better!" You say waving as you walk away.

You see Daryl on his bike and hop on right behind him.
He grunts and asks what your doing. You don't respond to him and just look at your fingers and wait for him to drive off. He scoffs and eventually starts the bike and rides off.
You hold on to him and put your chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." You say.
"Fer what?" He asks. "Being a people pleaser and being so loud and talkative. I won't talk anymore if that's what you want." You say sadly.
"Ya think that's what I want?" Daryl asks
"Well no shit! You literally yelled at me about being to talkative and how I need to shut the hell up, or does none of that ring a bell? You hurt my feelings Dar" You say sadly.
"Well I mean, maybe you should just listen and maybe I wouldn't have yelled at ya."
"Are you fucking serious?! Stop the bike." You say about ready to walk back to Alexandria.
"I SAID STOP THE BIKE!" You yell a lot louder.
He stops the bike and you get off, pacing back and forth to try and control your anger. Boy Dixon really knew how to push your buttons.
"Are you serious Dar? I'm apologizing and you have the audacity to sit here and do this shit again!?"
He just stands there staring at your hips and the way they sway when you walk.
"Daryl Are you even listening?! But then you wanna yell at me about not listening. Huh very original Daryl."
Daryl still doesn't say anything and just walks closer to you.
"Boy! You really know how to get on my ner-" You start
"Shut up." Daryl says in a low voice getting closer to you.
"Dar what the hell your scaring me a bit." You say backing up from him.
He looks at you with hunger and lust and anger. A mix you have never seen before. You kinda like it but your also scared. He's like an animal hunting down his prey.
He grabs you and pushes his lips against yours. You try to push him away as your angry your conversation isn't over. You give in as he pins you to a tree.
He rips your flannel of and then rips your shirt off. He tears the shirt off your body and now your favourite white tee is ruined, Oh well. You take off his vest and start unbuttoning his long sleeved shirt.
You slide it off his strong shoulders and run your warm hands down his back, clawing at his back leaving scratches. He picks you up from your thigh and slips your panties off.
Pretty black lace panties. He stares at the in his hand before putting them in his jeans pocket. He rips his pants and boxers off revealing his raging, hard cock aching to be inside you.
"Yer ready for me sunshine?" He asks, poking the tip at your entrance. You nod eagerly whimpering for him to slide inside you. "Yes please Dar. I want you so bad." You whine.
"Nuh uh darlin, Yer not getting anything right now. I'm gon have to tease ya a bit for your little attitude." He says smiling trying to catch you off guard.
"Uh why Dar you were the one who called me du-" You try to finish before he slams his cock inside your tight, velvety walls. You scream out in pleasure as he rams into you at a hard and fast pace, his rhythm never faltering.
You cover your mouth to make sure no nearby walkers could hear you. "Nuh uh pretty girl, I wanna hear those sounds coming from that bratty little mouth as I fuck the shit outta ya.' He grunts.
You remove your hand as tears start to fall from your face. "Please go slower Dar." You whine out.
"Sorry, can't do tha'. Gonna fuck that attitude right outta ya." He moans out. You both are panting extremely hard. His thrusts push your back against. the bark of the tree. You dig your nails into his back moaning louder.
Daryl grunts and starts letting out breathy moans and whines. "Wanna breed ya so bad." Daryl grunts out. "Want ya to be mine. Have my children." He says, his mind getting foggy by he thoughts of you having his child.
You whine out, turned on even more by daryl's dirty words. "This what we was arguin for? So I could fuck ya like the lil slut you are?" He states.
You whine, "Oh f-fuck Dar. Oh shit, fuck I'm gonna cum Daryl"
"Nuh uh, sunshine yer on punishment. Hold it." Daryl grunts out stopping his movements. You cry out as the feeling. of your orgasm is slowly fading away.
"Ya understand? If ya cum without my permission, I'm not gon be so nice after." daryl warns clenching his jaw.
You nod your head and his movements are fast and fluid like the last time. His thrusts are more erratic as he feels his orgasm approaching. You continue to cry as your trying you best to hold your orgasm.
"Daryl can I please cum now?" You whine out seeking his approval. "Yea sunshine, go ahead." he says breathlessly. "Squirt for me baby." He says dark and seductively.
"Oh fuck. fuck, Im cumming Daryl!" You scream out with not a care in the world about who or what hears.
Daryl pulls out and sucks on your clit brining you to your orgasm faster. You start shaking involuntarily and squirt all over daryls face and in his mouth. He laps up your juices with his tongue and groans into your body.
He fingers you through your orgasm as you pull his face closer to your legs. He brings you down to the grassy floor and pulls out his fingers and removes his face shoving his aching cock back inside you.
His thrusts are never ending it feels like. He groans and moans, his little noises so sweet and adorable. God you love hearing him whimper. It truly is the hottest thing in the world. "Fuck baby, I'm gon cum right inside his tight pussy. Give you a baby right 'ere." He moans out, pushing down on your stomach.
You moan out feeling his cock slide in and out of you. He whimpers one more time before drawing out a long, drawled, "Fuuucckkkk!" Daryl drawls out you kiss his neck as he releases inside you.
His warm, sticky, white cum squirts ropes inside you. You feel the warm fluid release inside you. His thrusts are slow and loving this time as he tries to ride out his high.
He pulls out of you and starts to grab you guys clothes. Once you both are dressed you walk back to his bike. Before Daryl could mount his bike, your lightly grabbing his arm.
He turned to look at you.
"Dar, can you look at me? You're doing it again. Look, I'm sor-" He interrupts you.
"No, I'm sorry. I know yer sensitive and I shouldn't have said those things to ya. I'm sorry I didn't care bout' yer feelings. I was just so angry. So I'm sorry sunshine." He says looking down.
You hug him and kiss his neck. He wraps his hands around your waist and hugs you tightly.

The drive back to Alexandria was eventful. Daryl actually opened up and talked about himself.
When you arrived Maggie was standing there by the gate. you hopped off the bike and were on your way to go see Rosita. Maggie threw a thumbs up from afar and you smiled and did one back too.
She smiled and winked at you. You all went your separate ways and lived happily in Alexandria.

Taglist: @darylscvmdumpster @murdadixon @carlgrimesenthusiast @carlsdarling @sinsandsweetness @tied-in-a-knot @loveforcarl
#Twd Daryl#daryl dixon#the walking dead#Daryl smut#Daryl angst#Daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl x reader#twd fanfiction#twd
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Writing this because Aurora GENUINELY NEEDS a hug AND I NEED TO GIVE THE MECHANICAL SHARK FAMILY COMFORT!!
(Yeah, a long one, SORRY!!!)
Aurora awoken to a strange sound in the living room. She walks down the stairs, still in her pajamas. She yawns. The clock read 3:20 am, meaning it was still dark outside.
“Hello? Is anybody here??” Aurora asked, rubbing her eyes. She couldn’t see anything, and her rays aren’t working correctly. Some shuffling could be heard from the couch. Aurora, being the small little child she is, immediately gets scared of the sound. She runs to the light switch, flipping it on.
“AHH! Dear, you could’ve warned me first before turning on the lights! My fragile eyes!!”
That voice…it was Ruin’s. Aurora thought she was hallucinating again, till she heard the voice again.
“Heh…not exactly how I wanted to come back, but still.”
Aurora turns around. It actually was Ruin. He was a little scuffed up, but okay nonetheless.
“Hello Aurora. It’s nice to see you again…”Ruin responded, smiling weakly.
Aurora paused, just standing still.
Ruin sighs. “I know this isn’t the BEST way to say hi again…considering it’s late, but-“
Before Ruin could even finish his sentence, Aurora ran up to him and immediately hugged his leg.
“P-PAPA!! YOU’RE BACK!! P-papa…” Aurora cried into his leg, shaking. Ruin pauses. He smiles and kneels down to Aurora’s level.
“Yes…I’m here, dear…I’m here…” Ruin ends up pausing once more, realizing he can still she the wound on Aurora’s faceplate. The wound Rusty caused…
How Ruin couldn’t stop him…
How it took SO LONG to finally be able to see his family again…
“Papa? Papa??” Ruin snapped out of it once he heard Aurora.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, just a habit…” Ruin hugs Aurora, keeping her in a tight embrace. Tear were running down both of their faces.
Both Solar and Jack awoke after all the noise. They’re both heavy sleepers, so it took them a while to finally wake up.
Solar sighs. “Aurora, why are awake at this-“ Solar pauses. “RUIN?!?”
“MAMA RUIN!!” Jack immediately yelled, running over to hug him. He did almost knock them both down, but he didn’t, luckily.
“Heh…glad to see you too, pumpkin…”
Solar was just dumbfounded. “But…how-Eclipse and Ballora said you were taken!! I’ve been trying to find you and-“
“Darling.” Ruin interrupted. “Just…come over here.”
Solar was already close to crying at this point as well, so he joined the little group hug.
They were basically like this for a while, till they did eventually fell asleep right there in the living room. It was honestly sweet. At last, they were whole again…
(MWHAHAHAHA-)
HOW DARE YOU ANGST ME AT 1 IN THE MORNING- ARRGGG(I'm kidding,it's not 1 am)
Goddamn me be remembering Rust throw Aurora across to a wall-
Ruru back with the fam with this one!(Tempted to draw tbh of this)
One thing:This reminded me of those old videos I remember watching and it gives this vibe nbwhfvueirb
Nah,this was great!Hope you feel good and that your well!(I do not know if we share close enough time or not!)
#Kit/Led's inbox#tumblr inbox#inbox#ask#ask me things#solar x ruin#ruin x solar#mechanicalshark#technicaltheatre#solar x ruin fanchild#tsams solar#eaps ruin#tsams jack#tsbs Aurora (Olive's FC oc au)#- Olive/WCG💫
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g e n s o - 1 3.

you groan feeling a sudden pressure hit your head as you wake up slowly in the infirmary.
fluttering your eyes you look around to see bakugou asleep in the chair by your side.
"what..?" you groan feeling disoriented, looking down you see your leg in a cast. "oh cmon...." you whine, waking up bakugou.
"goddamn your loud..." he mutters as he stretches, "took you long enough to wake up.."
"what happened? why am i here?" you ask signaling to your body and around you.
"okay so... you made it to the finals in the 1v1's... fought against me and thats why you're here.." he pauses, "but- you did get third out of everyone"
"really bakugou." you reply with a deadpan expression, "you really had to put me back in a cast after i had just gotten out of one?"
"its not like i was trying to genso!" he shouts, "would you rather me go easy on you and show everyone that you still cant beat me, or fight you like i would with everyone else to show that you are strong?" he asks with a scowl.
you widen your eyes as you realize his reason, "oh..." you look down, "thanks then.. i guess.." you mutter before looking up at him, "okay but seriously though howd i end up in here?? every time i get injured i somehow end up in here but i have no idea how..."
he clears his throat, "thats not important... but now since your up ill be heading out.. damn shitty hair forced me to stay here until you woke up.." he mutters standing up.
"oh.." you sigh slightly looking down. why do i feel kind of disappointed that hes leaving...?
he stops right before he exits, "for what its worth.. i think a lot of pros were impressed by our fight. you did well genso." he states before opening the door.
"thanks.." you mumble with a slight blush covering your cheeks.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you limp into class slowly the next day.
as soon as you open the door, your crushed by mina, "oh my gosh! are you okay?? are you feeling better?? i was so worried y/n!" she rambles pulling away and checking over your body.
"chill out mina... at this rate shes gonna get hurt from you.." chuckles kirishima walking up to you with a soft smile, "how you feeling?"
"way better.." you chuckle, "okay but seriously though.. who took me to the infirmary?? because whenever i get hurt i always end up there, but i dont know how..."
"okay babe.. get ready cause its quite shocking..." giggles mina, "its yours truly... mr. bakugou katsuki over there..." she whispers while jabbing her thumb in his direction.
you let out a laugh, "hah! thats a good one..! but no really.. who is it..?" you sigh as your laughter dies down.
"we're being serious.." repeats kirishima with a slight grin.
you widen your eyes, "no fucking way..." you look at mina, "but he hates me..!"
"well he must hate you soooo much that whenever you get injured during class he just has to pick you up and rush you to the infirmary..!" she says sarcastically.
"yeah.. he did that during entrace exams too! i honestly thought you two were a thing.. kinda like an old couple yknow?" kirishima quips in with a grin.
"yeah exactly!" mina agrees, bouncing on her heels. "im sure everyone in class thinks it too from the way you two act around each other..! theres just- so much tension!" she squeals.
you clasp your hand over her mouth, "shush..!" you blush, pulling her away from bakugous hearing range. "you two are so loud..!"
"is someone getting flusteredddd...?" teases kirishima with a dopey grin.
"kiri!" you gasp, "youre supposed to be on my side here..!" you grunt slapping his arm lightly.
"no way..! do you like him..?" she asks with a slight whisper. "cmon tell ussss..!" she repeats, poking your shoulder.
you blush heavily, "n-no..! i mean- i dont think so..! ughhh.. i dont know- im not sure..!" you respond frustrated.
"yknow what i just heard?" says mina with a grin, "i like him i just dont wanna accept it!!" she answers with enthusiasm.
right as you start to open your mouth mr. aizawa walks in. "this conversation isnt over..!" you whisper before sitting down in your seat.
"listen up everyone" sighs aizawa, "the hero offers for each one of you have came in..." he says before turning on the projector and presenting the results.
you widen your eyes as you find your name with 3632 offers, "geez... thats a lot.."
"now since you all have made a name for yourselves today you all will be figuring out your hero names." states aizawa, "to help with that midnight will be monitoring over you all" he says welcoming midnight to the front before walking out.
you look at the slate on your table. cmon... whats a hero name i can use..? you think groaning slightly.
"can you stop whining genso?! i cant concentrate!" barks bakugou as he hits you in the head with his slate.
huh. maybe genso isnt a bad hero name... you let out a small smile before quickly scribbling it on your board and raising your hand, "im ready..!"
midnight smiles beckoning you to the front, "okay.. im gonna be known as the elemental hero: genso" you state with a small smile.
"traditional japanese! i love it!" claps midnight with a happy smile on her face.
"HEY I MADE THAT NAME UP GENSO! YOU CANT JUST USE THAT AS YOUR HERO NAME-" yells bakugou as he shoots up.
"well then... i guess i can thank you for your brilliant nicknames" you grin playfully, sitting down.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you stare at the paper of offers with your eyebrows furrowed. which offer do i choose...? theres so many..!
soon the bell rings causing you to stand up and place the papers in your backpack. slinging it over your shoulder you head your way out.
"genso..!" calls a voice from behind you, "wait up."
you turn and see bakugou glaring at you, "what is it?" you ask slightly intrigued.
"where are you gonna go for your offer..?" he asks gruffly looking to the side.
"uhh.. im not sure yet. why..?" you ask slightly confused to why he wanted to know.
"you should go for endeavor... one of your weakest elements is fire no..?" he says walking beside you.
you nod a bit, "huh.. your right, maybe i might go for him then. what about you?"
"im going for best jeanist. he is the no. 4 hero for a reason so i might as well see what hes all about.." he mutters.
"really?" you ask incredulously, "i would never see you going for him to be honest... hes so reserved and well.. your so- not reserved..?" you say trying to sound as nice as possible about your true opinion.
"you calling me a mess genso?" he snarls, glaring at you.
"no..! not at all..!" you chuckle sheepishly. "okay well maybe i was..." you admit scratching your neck. he chortles slightly, causing you to widen your eyes in shock. "no way you just laughed..."
he suddenly snaps back to his original self, "the fuck you say..?" he says setting off mini sparks in his palm.
"well.. it was nice seeing you bakugou but ill be off- bye....!" you exclaim, quickly running away.
bakugou stared at you running off, chuckling to himself lightly.
what is this feeling...?

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 next part: pt. 14 / pt. 15 / pt. 16
☆taglist! @katszumi @coolgirl458 @niktwazny303 @crumbycrumb3
#mha#my hero academia#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#kacchan#kacchan bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou#mha bakugou#katsuki#bakugo katuski#bakugou x y/n#katsuki x reader#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#bhna fanfiction#bhna#bhna x read er#bakugou bnha#bakugo#t3ag3rs
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Austin and Me
“Taste”
“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.
Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.
I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts
English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!
MASTERLIST
I was pregnant. Goddamn it. Look, I was married and I knew this would happen, just not so fast. I know that Lori was four years old but it was still pretty fast for me.
However I grew to accept it, now I was less lonely during my pregnancy. I had Lori, I wasn’t mopping the floor like I did when I was pregnant with her. I hoped it would be a girl, I wanted to be able to reuse all the cute clothes Lori used. But if it was a boy, I wouldn’t mind him looking like Austin. I’ve seen pictures of Austin when he was a kid, a baby if you will— he was the cutest baby you could ever see.
But it pained me, I wanted to be able to resume my career but I guess I had to wait. I spent days reading scripts that came in.
I wanted more challenging roles. My dream role was to play into a medieval drama. Play a Queen or a Princess. That would totally be fun, it was something I desired to do for a long time. I have played mostly in horror movies. I was a scream queen. But I wanted something more.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Lori called me, bringing me out my thoughts.
“Yes?” I responded, pinching myself as I felt like daydreaming.
“Horsie!” Lori said excitedly as she held her little gloves.
“Sweetheart. I’m pregnant you know I cannot—“
“But I want to! Please?” Lori gave me her cute puppy eyes and I could not resist her.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
I hadn’t spoken about this before. Remember our house? Strawberry Fields, well. It was in Rodeo Drive, fair enough— the land was immense. We had a stable with our horses.
My horse was named Dolly and Lori’s was Cookie. It was a small horse, and it was Dolly’s child. Our bond went beyond that of mother and daughter. Even our horses were mother and daughter. Austin liked horses too, that’s why he had his own— Whiskey.
I loved riding horses. Most of my life I grew up on a ranch with my grandparents. I knew how to treat cattle and how to treat horses. But I loved horses too much. Unlike having our dog, I felt like the bond with my horses was much more stronger.
I knew I shouldn’t be on horseback but Lori wanted to. So I took Cookie from her box stall and placed Lori on top of the horse. Getting her firm on the saddle.
I walked around with them, gently holding onto Cookie. Lori reminded me so much of me when I was little. That innocence one had when you were oblivious to the world surrounding you. I remember being her age, not knowing the economic situation my parents were going through, or their marriage problems. I began to wonder, if it’s really worth it growing up. If it’s really just the physical changes or if also your whole soul changed.
Because I knew that if my younger self looked at me now, she’d think I was the coolest woman she’d ever seen. And just because— she didn’t have a sense of what suffering was.

Callum was in town, the man really thought Austin was oblivious to his once affair with Cynthia. Dumbass. He should’ve known. He accepted Austin’s offer to go to a bar.
Callum arrived with good face, smiling at Austin. They ordered their drinks. It was a cozy closed bar. Austin smiled at Callum as they both took sips of their drinks before he spoke.
“Listen, man. I know you’re sleeping with my wife.”
Callum almost spat out his entire swig, Jesus Christ above him would punish him once he time came.
“What? Mate, that’s a reach.” Callum laughed, sipping his drink awkwardly.
“You can’t fool me. You know? I was stupid back then before noticing it.” Austin could kill with the look he was giving Callum, really. “Did you enjoy screwing with what was mine? With— what gave me my beautiful daughter? I bet you loved the feeling of burying your pathetic dick onto her.”
“Listen. Okay. I did it, and as a matter of fact— I enjoyed every second of it. Sorry.” Callum said, putting his glass down, his finger gently tracing the edge of the cup.
They were both drinking the same goddamn drink.
“You know, she used to make me this drink every time we had sex. Uh— the sex was good.” Callum smirked. It took everything in Austin to not punch him, because they were in public.
“Watch it.”
“Why? It was good, you know if. You knocked her up once. You must absolutely know how tight she is.” It was like Callum enjoyed taking about it.
“I was here first. I took her first. You don’t get to come here and steal my wife just because you thought you could be fucking Robin Hood and help her out.”
“I couldn’t leave a wife out there feeling neglected. This is your fault, mate. You should’ve been there for her. I’m sorry she chose me as her company.” Callum smirked.
“She won’t choose you, you know? She’s too tied to me now that she won’t be able to even think about it. She’s pregnant again.”
Callum’s smirk faltered a bit but he kept his composure. Leaning in.
“Every time you kiss her, you will taste me too. You know? She gave me head many times. And every time you go down on her, you’ll taste me too. You can have her— I ain’t complaining about sharing.”
Austin clenched his fists before he slowly spoke, leaning in, whispering.
“You son of a bitch.” Austin slammed his fist on the table, catching the attention to himself but he was able to get it off him. “You son of a bitch.” Austin repeated before getting up.
“We can be a little threesome one day.” Callum said with a smirk.

Austin came back to the house an hour later, I didn’t notice him coming. Until I heard his voice.
“There you are!”
I turned around from petting Cookie. I sighed, I thought I had a little more freedom before he came back. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Shame consumed me. Sometimes I felt I was too dumb. Why was I ashamed when he never felt ashamed of doing the same to me.
“My favorite girls.” Austin said, smiling at us. Lori immediately got excited. She loved her daddy.
“She wanted to ride.” I said, patting Cookie once again.
“I want a ride too…” He said, squeezing my waist then his hand traveled to my ass.
I was surprised that he was— horny. Damnit, I should’ve known. Every time he was like that, it was because he had thought about or SEEN Callum.
Next thing you know, he made me passionate love all night. I didn’t remember him being this gentle or sweet. He told me that he did his homework and investigated about pregnancy sex I didn’t know that he was doing this because he wanted me to stop TASTING like Callum, as if he could erase what Callum had once done to me. His hands, his smell, his taste.
Afterwards, Austin cuddled up with me. Kissing my shoulder and neck softly.
“You do love me, right?” He muttered to me. “More than him.”
I stayed silent. Of course I loved him, but I was used to him rejecting my love at times.
“Do you love me?” He asked me once again, sitting up and looking at him.
“What a stupid question.” I responded and he stayed quiet.
Now he felt self-conscious of himself. Perhaps I cheated on him because Callum was fitter, taller, more charismatic, better than him
It was a cold answer.
But now he knew what it feels like.

UNI IS KILLING ME. I finished writing this at my English class.
Love y’all. 🫶❤️
I have another version of this but the character is different. But it has a MUCH MORE EXTENSIVE LORE.
#Spotify#austin butler#austinbutler#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler fic#austin butler imagine#austin butler x reader#elvis and me
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Red Carpet
Part 1
……….……………………………………………………………………
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he looked damn good as he stood before the hundreds of flashing bulbs. His outfit was perfect – stylish yet casual, and his confident and laid-back stance made him all the more alluring. His thick, dark hair was tousled in the most appealing way, and she imagined (to her dismay) her own fingers tangling in those locks as she watched him absentmindedly run a hand through it as he spoke to a reporter.
He had his trademark expression – pleasant, but almost hinting as if he felt he was too good to be there, which he undoubtedly did. Regardless, he was painfully gorgeous, and Lauren felt a heat run to her core as she saw him give a cheeky smile and roll his eyes at the reporter he’d struck up a banter with. He was so damn cocky. And it only fueled him on when he briefly averted his eyes to her and he caught her watching him, their gazes meeting briefly, his beautiful icy blue eyes boring into her. Lauren’s heart skipped a beat as his signature smirk unfurled across his face before he turned back to the reporter.
“Shit,” Lauren muttered to herself under her breath. Why did she have to get caught ogling him? He would no doubt bring it up later, taunting her about it. Why did he always single her out? Sure, she gave it right back to him every time, but it was becoming exhausting to always have to deal with his asshole remarks.
———————���————————————
“Liked what you saw out there, did you, sweetheart?”
Lauren immediately tensed at his voice, squaring her shoulders before turning around to face him.
“I could see you undressing me with your eyes from across the way,” he continued with a smirk. “Hope you brought a change of panties.”
Lauren’s jaw clenched as she gripped her champagne glass tighter. No after party in the world had enough booze to make this tolerable.
“Not necessary, believe me,” she responded. “In fact, what I was wondering was how that reporter could stand to hold a prolonged conversation with you without clocking you in the face. Lord knows I’d seize that opportunity.”
Cillian smiled widely at her, clearly amused. Goddamn, he was hot.
“Really? I’d never peg someone as pretty as you as the violent type. I suppose it’s always the ones you least expect.”
Did he just call her pretty? Her heart raced at the compliment, but then she shook herself. Get it together, Lauren, she thought. You hate this man, and suddenly you’re fawning over a backwards compliment that stemmed from him giving you a hard time? He didn’t even mean it like that.
“Yes, it is, so keep that in mind the next time you think about pushing my buttons,” she responded.
At that, Cillian took a step closer to her and leaned in, pinning her against the wall as he planted a palm above her shoulder.
“Seems to me, there’s one particular button you’d love for me to push.” His voice was low as he looked into her eyes.
Lauren’s pulse raced and she swallowed dryly as she pressed back into the wall. When he lifted his free hand and slowly dragged a finger up her side, from her hip to her breast, it took everything in her to contain a whimper. His face hovered in the crook of her neck for a moment, and his breath fanned over her skin, giving her goosebumps.
“How are those panties doing now?” he whispered in her ear.
The repeated jab immediately brought her back down to Earth.
“Oh, fuck you!” she spat as she put her hand on his chest and shoved him away. She tried to ignore the feeling of his pecs beneath his shirt.
Cillian just smiled again.
“Just name the time and place, sweetheart.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve told you before, don’t call me that.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” he asked, his smile still present.
“Because it’s degrading. Don’t think I’m so dumb as to take it in any other way.”
“Hmmm,” Cillian pretended to wrestle with the idea. “It’s gone on far too long now; can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Well, then we should do the next best thing for a dog and cut your balls off,” Lauren replied.
Cillian laughed loudly.
“Again, with the violence,” he said. “All that pent up aggression isn’t healthy, sweetheart.”
Lauren huffed.
“For every time you call me that, I’m going to come up with a name for you.”
“Oh?” Cillian raised an eyebrow challengingly. “What did you have in mind? Daddy?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“’Shithead’ seems fitting,” she countered with a mischievous glare.
Cillian let out another laugh and shook his head.
“I’ve been called much worse.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Lauren replied.
He smiled at her and ran a hand through his hair again. They then both turned to look as someone hollered Cillian’s name, wanting his attention across the room. He quickly turned back to Lauren.
“Gotta run,” he said. He then reached out and took the glass of champagne from her hand, taking a sip and walking away with it. “See you later, sweetheart.”
“Shithead!” Lauren shouted after him, but she knew it fell on deaf ears, the music drowning out the insult as soon as it left her lips.
Part 2
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Too Sharp to Touch pt.3
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: slight language, descriptions of blood and blood usage
Summary: you decide to ask Wednesday to teach you to fight, only to discover she has a different plan in mind
Pairing: Wednesday x Reader
“Teach me to fight.”
That’s what you were going to say. Simple. How hard could it be? Surely, Wednesday wouldn’t say no, right?
You had got out of your werewolf anatomy class early, dismissed with a homework assignment that you could work on later, but now your main focus was on working up the courage to ask Wednesday to teach you how to fight.
She had a soft spot for you. You were almost positive you weren’t making that up. Surely the fact that she threatened your bodily harm slightly less than others at Nevermore, or in general, was a good thing, right? And besides, she had helped you out after your fight. That has to mean something. And no, of course you weren’t looking for a reason to get into a fight just because you knew she’d be there, but… hey, it was a perk.
It still made that little patch of fur on the back of your neck prickle just thinking about those eyes of hers.
Enid had deliberately said to you that all you had to do was ask. No tiptoeing about it, just ask her.
"Come on, Y/N, it's not that hard. She's not going to bite." "Hopefully," you responded dryly, swinging your heels as you sat on her bed. "I just don't want to have to go back to fighting instructors, they suck ass."
"Well, you'll probably have to you don't ask," Enid said with a small smile. "She likes you, Y/N. Just go for it."
Those words had been banging through your head for the past three goddamn days.
Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Worst case scenario you’d just have to get a werewolf fighting instructor instead… oh god, that would be embarrassing. Most werewolves were naturally good at fighting. Why couldn’t you be the same? It was definitely frustrating, to say the least.
You continued to pace the halls, brainstorming. Wednesday was at her Hummers meeting, but it wouldn’t be long before it was over. You had a little bit of time. Why were you even stressing it out this much? You were a werewolf! It’d be a piece of cake! Besides, Wednesday was only human, after all. Or maybe not; you weren’t entirely sure what the Addams’ were.
Perhaps you could get her something. Maybe some flowers and chocolate? To convince her to help you out? Well, you didn’t have enough time to run into town and get some chocolates, but the flowers you could definitely do.
You got up, scrambling down the hallway and hurrying down the stairs, ignoring the calls from an occasional teacher to slow down, headed for the greenhouse.
You arrived just as class emptied out, luckily, and you fought your way - literally fought; you caught more than a few elbows in your side - through the crowd of purple uniforms. Stopping by the door, you quickly checked to make sure everyone had exited before slipping inside.
You were welcomed by the cool temperature of the greenhouse, accompanied by the soft humming of the electricity, but you didn’t stop long, examining the different plants arranged around. Surely nobody would mind if you took a couple flowers? You peered at the different arrangement of flowers before your eyes caught on a lovely black dahlia, recognizing its spiky petals and dark hues to be the flower you wanted. Carefully pulling two or three from the planter, you held them carefully, exiting the greenhouse and closing the door carefully behind you as you hid the plant in the pocket of your blazer.
You hesitated briefly at the door to Wednesday and Enid’s dorm room, still catching your breath from your sprint. You could hear movement inside and you knew it wasn’t Enid; the blonde was busy working on an art project with Divina and Yoko today. You held your breath briefly before knocking your typical three knocks on the door before entering.
Quiet music came from the gramophone in the corner, signaling to you that your assumptions were correct. You turned your head to see Wednesday exiting her closet, dressed in her black and white checkered jumper with a jacket thrown over it.
“Y/N.” She paused, the slightest hint of suspicion in her eyes when she spotted you. “What do you want?” The raven didn’t comment on the fact that you had entered the dorm without permission and you noticed.
Now on the spot under Wednesday’s stare, you took a deep breath, forcing your hesitation down as you pulled out the black dahlia’s from behind your back, noticing too late that they were slightly crumpled; you had to bite back a frustrated huff at the sight of them. You knew you shouldn’t have put them in your blazer pocket.
“I was wondering if you’d teach me how to fight?” Silence.
More silence.
Too much damn silence.
You looked at her, feeling embarrassed about asking her like this. Her eyes slowly gazed from the flowers up to you as you stammered, “y’know, because I’m not the best at fighting, and well, you are, and I thought it could work out.” You forced yourself to stop talking before you could make yourself sound any more stupid than you already did. You were probably messing this up.
Wednesday seemed to examine you for a moment, eyes slowly moving to the flowers before back to you, staying silent for a moment longer before taking the flowers from you, depositing them on her desk. Before you could ask what she was doing, the raven turned and knelt by her bed, pulling out a semi-transparent jug filled with what appeared to be…blood? Confused, you didn’t have time to respond as Wednesday approached you, dumping the jug into your hands as she spoke.
“If you wish for me to instruct you, then you may first assist me, wolf.”
You looked down at the jug in your hands and then back at her, cocking your head slightly.
“Is this real blood?” She ignored your question, placing a notebook inside of her bag as well as what appeared to be a sponge and some other materials.
“I wish to begin implementing more realistic depictions into my novel. All you will need to do is act the part of a corpse for a bloodstain pattern analysis.”
“A corpse?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise and skepticism. The raven nodded, slinging her bag neatly over her shoulders.
“Correct” - she fixed you with that familiar glare you knew so well, already heading for the door. “And then I shall uphold my end of the deal.”
You hurried after her with the jug; despite it’s heaviness you carried it without a problem. “Where are you planning on doing this?”
“The woods,” came the reply. Once again you had to quicken your pace to catch up with her. How could a person so short move so damn fast?
“So, is this real blood?” You repeated your question again; you didn’t have an issue with blood - after all you were a werewolf - but even you had to admit that if Wednesday so casually had a large jug full of real blood in her dorm it was a little concerning. The scent of it was a little different than human blood; your sensitive nose picked up a slight taint to it.
“Does it really matter?” She responded with a slight roll of her eyes. “It’s pig’s blood.”
You fell into a quiet silence as the two of you walked over the uneven terrain, the hushed silence of the woods engulfing the two of you as you entered. It was calming.
“So I’m going to be a corpse?” You said to fill the silence.
Wednesday nodded, adjusting the bag around her shoulder as she walked. “Indeed. I’ve played the role numerous times for my own amusement in the Addams Mansion. Consider yourself fortunate I’m even letting you in on the act.” With a sigh, you followed her as she led the way, the jug making swishing noises as the thick blood sloshed around inside.
“And how long will this take?”
“If your performance suffices, then not long.” - Wednesday slowed her pace slightly, her gaze fixed on the woods - “we’ll find a suitable clearing where I can conduct the analysis. You’ll lie down, I’ll do my work, and then afterward you’re free to do as you please.” The raven eyed your clothing for a moment. “I assume you won’t mind dirtying your clothes.”
“Of course not,” you muttered sarcastically. “We werewolves love bloodied clothing.”
“Yes, because impeccably clean clothing is such a priority in the middle of the woods,” Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes in response.
Eventually she seemed to reach the spot she wanted, a gloomy clearing shrouded in shadows. It fit the vibe - or Wednesday’s vibe at least - the shadows encompassed most of the main clearing and the sounds of the Academy were too faint for even your heightened hearing to pick up on.You looked at Wednesday for instruction and she merely gestured for you to lay down on the forest floor. You set the jug down and awkwardly arranged yourself over the ground, wincing and plucking out a few uncomfortable rocks under your spine.
Once you had gotten comfortable enough to be in the position for a good amount of time, you watched as Wednesday set down her bag on a log, retrieving her materials and standing there for a moment as she examined you, dark eyes roaming over your body. Was she scanning you for imperfections? Observing you to give you some tips on how to act more corpse-like? Or was it something else entirely?
You started to speak before you were cut off by the raven kneeling down at your side, bringing the sponge, an already slightly bloodied handkerchief, and the jug of blood over to begin. You didn’t flinch once as she began to carefully and precisely dab the blood onto specific spots of your clothing or skin.
You held as still as you can manage, save your baited breath as Wednesday delicately smeared a nice glob of thick blood over your neck, pausing only when she saw your muscles tense slightly. Her brows furrowed just barely as her hand hovered right above your neck, not moving.
Now, Wednesday Addams was certainly not a person who blushed; in fact you seriously doubted that she even had the capability to blush; you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. Instead you watched as her nose scrunched just the slightest bit, the freckled skin over her nose darkening faintly, eyes flickering to yours once as she muttered, “don’t move.”
You forced your muscles to relax, watching as she smeared another good portion of blood on the side of your neck, feeling the cold thick liquid slowly running down your collarbone as she hesitated yet again, seeming to get stuck watching the blood on your neck before continuing, acting as if it never happened, arranging the blood in a pattern that appeared to be extremely specific to what she required.
Once done she prepared her notebook and began writing, pencil moving at impressive speeds with expert precision as she occasionally glanced back at you for reference, muttering once in a while under her breath, eyebrows furling in concentration as she recorded her observations before she repeated the process all over again.
When you were receiving a nice bloodstain on your lower calf you felt a raindrop on your nose as the sky darkened further, a low rumble of thunder making itself heard throughout the woods. You glanced at the sky and felt your body tighten a little at another soft echo of thunder throughout the woods; you never liked storms but you definitely weren’t going to seem like a coward in front of Wednesday. Especially not now. So you bit your tongue, laid your head back against the moss and let her work, trying to ignore the precise, somewhat gentle touches accompanied by the sound of pencil on paper.
You found the whole situation odd yet fitting.
After a bit longer, Wednesday sighed and stood, taking down a last few notes before starting to pack up her bag, replacing her materials neatly.
“You may get up now.”
With relief you sat up, looking down at the new bloodstains on your leg and neck. You reached down to try and wipe it but it stained. You huffed slightly, realizing you were going to need a good shower when you returned. Your clothes could use a good wash too if you managed to wash the scent of pig blood out of them.
You sat up, brushing the loose dirt and forest debris off your shirt and pants, stretching your aching joints; somehow some tiny rocks had managed to find you spine nonetheless.
“Meet me in the fencing hall tomorrow night,” Wednesday stared at you for a moment, not bothering to thank you as she abruptly turned and started walking again.
You hurried after her, catching up easily as you were used to the forest terrain; when you caught up you huffed, “no thank you for my service?”
“I will display my regard for your work by improving your fighting skills instead of supplying you with empty compliments,” the raven looked up at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”
You couldn’t resist a little roll of your eyes but you nodded. You never acknowledged the fact that you both knew she wouldn’t actually refuse to teach you how to fight.
Or so you hoped.
As the two of you walked, a faint rumble echoed through the sky as a soft downpour began to rinse the forest. You felt the sprinkle wash away some of the lesser dried blood and you instinctively shook out your neck and hair a little bit, not a fan of wet hair or fur.
You continued walking, suddenly aware of Wednesday’s eyes on you once more. Observing you. Not with that same interest that she did when she was working. To you it appeared more inquisitive… slightly curious. Like you were a puzzle she was determined to solve. You pretended not to notice.
But you did.
—————
pt.4 here!
#wednesday addams#wednesday series#wednesday x reader#wednesday#wednesday 2022#wednsday addams#jenna ortega
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Here's part 2 of Caught. Just a warning that this does feature some homophobic language (the f slur a few times and Terry's nasty views on gay people as a whole)
I wrote it to show Colin's internal struggle. He loves his brother, doesn't care that he's gay but still lives with the knowledge of how Terry thinks and what he'd do. I also forgot to mention (I said it on ao3) that this takes place in s1 and Terry is in prison
Also I hope Fiona doesn't sound too OOC. In this universe since she's dating a Milkovich herself, she wouldn't really care all that much that Ian is doing the same thing with Mickey
@callivich
@zutaralesbian (I didn't know if you'd want to be tagged or not but I saw in your tags when you reblogged the first part that it was an interesting premise)
Anyway, here's chapter 2:
****
Colin stood with his back to the front door for nearly a minute. While he promised Fiona he’d go talk to Mickey, he wasn’t really sure how to do that. Milkovich’s didn’t do heart-to-heart talks. They didn’t even apologize, just moved on, pretending it never happened.
And what the fuck is he even supposed to say? Did Mickey need more reassurance? He already said he didn’t give a shit, should be enough damn assurance.
He rubbed the side of his nose. Goddamn it, he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t care but this was out of his expertise. Finding out his brother was a fag was just mind blowing. He’d never peg Mick as one of them. Weren’t they supposed to be weak and shit? Terry always said you could tell who was a fag and who wasn’t. But Colin wouldn’t have been able to tell if Gallagher or Mickey were by just looking at them.
He was so fucking confused.
“He needs to know you aren’t going to kick his ass over it.”
He wouldn’t, and that’s what made the situation all the more complicated. He should hate Mickey on the spot, to think of him as nothing more than vermin. That’s what Terry said.
And well, Colin used to agree. Until he stopped giving a fuck. He didn’t know when that happened, when he would have willingly participated in a good ol’ fag bash to being indifferent so long as it didn’t involve him.
He’d brush off Terry’s rants about them, not bothering to speak up because he knew it’d only earn him his dad’s wrath. But now, knowing Mickey was hearing all of this, living a life no one else knew about, made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
He’d be expected to go in there and beat the living shit out of him. Kick him out and let him live on the streets. His little brother that he used to help feed and entice him to walk by dangling cigarette butts and other things a child that young shouldn't be touching.
“Make sure he’s okay,” Fiona’s voice came back to him.
Colin blew out a puff of air, going right towards Mickey’s bedroom without knocking.
He found his youngest brother shoving clothes into a duffle bag, making him stop in his tracks.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, dipshit?” Mickey shot back defensively. His hand was itching to grab the handgun that was laying on his dresser. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Why?” Colin demanded.
“Don’t act fucking stupid. It’s what you want,” Mickey was incredibly tense, like he was expecting a fight to break out.
“When the fuck did I tell you to leave?” Colin shoved him. Mickey took this as a sign to fight; he pushed with all his might so his older brother’s back would land against the wall with a thud.
Fuck that. Colin hurled himself on top of Mickey, knocking him to the floor so he was effectively pinned. He tried to fight against it, but Colin had his hands pressed into the boy’s shoulders.
“What is your problem?” He demanded. Mickey wasn’t responding, he was doing whatever he could to get away. “Fucking hell-Mickey! Answer me or I swear to fucking God I’m going to knock your teeth out!”
His shout had stirred Mandy, who shrieked at them to shut the fuck up.
Below him, Mickey was breathing heavily, staring up with wide, panicked eyes.
He was supposed to look his brother in the eyes and beat him within an inch of his life, to make him think twice about fucking other guys.
“Calm down,” Colin probably should have known that wasn’t going to do much but give him a fucking break. He was new to this. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is but I said I didn’t give a shit about you liking dick.”
“Like I believe a damn word of that,” Mickey snapped.
“What the fuck do you want me to say, dickhead?” Frustration leaked into Colin’s voice. “You want me to hold your damn hand or somethin’?”
“Fuck you!” Mickey tried to kneed him in the balls. If it weren’t for Colin being stronger than his brother, he would’ve been nursing some black and blue balls. “You’re just gonna go and tell Dad anyway!”
“What?” Colin stared down at him. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
This seemed to make his brother freeze, staring back up at him warily.
Jesus. Mickey really thought Colin was going to tell him like he got some sick enjoyment out of knowing what would end up happening to him if their psychotic father knew.
And he didn’t- a horrible feeling crawled up Colin’s back with the realization that while Mickey had seemingly reacted well out there, he must have been fucking terrified about what was going to happen once they were alone.
He didn’t know. Didn’t think about this at all. Other than a few obligatory dick jokes at Mick’s expense, Colin didn’t think this was going to be an issue.
“God, Mickey,” Colin sat back, taking his hands off his brother. “I’m not-I won’t tell Dad about this.”
He peeled himself off Mickey, standing up. His brother slowly did the same, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Why?” He said.
Colin raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to tell him?”
“No, you asshole,” Mickey said, looking like he was gearing up for another fight.
“Okay, then. What’s the problem?”
“But...” Mickey looked younger all of a sudden. The anger was gone, now he just seemed confused. “I’m a fag.”
Colin shrugged. “Yeah. But you’re still my brother.”
At this, Mickey’s gaze turned gobsmacked, rendering him speechless.
“We both know what Terry would do,” Colin said, voice quiet. “I ain’t doin’ that to you.”
Mickey blinked, arms limply hanging by his sides. He stared at Colin for what felt like a long time, nodding slowly.
“Just be careful, okay? If you’re gonna suck some dick, do it where Terry won’t find you.”
He didn’t want to think about Terry ever finding out. But one thing’s for sure, he’d fucking kill the bastard if he had to before he ever let him touch Mickey.
“Yeah,” Mickey sounded a bit dazed. “Okay.”
Colin contemplated his next thought, clicking his tongue. “I ain’t gonna make you tell Ig or Mandy, but they ain’t gonna care either.”
“I ain’t tellin’ them,” Mickey was shaking his head.
“Okay,” Colin shrugged.
Silence permeated the air.
They’d spent too much time in touchy-feely territory, so Colin decided to break it up. “So,” he said casually, “Ian, huh?”
“Don’t fucking start,” Mickey said warningly.
Colin couldn’t help but smirk at the blush on his brother’s cheeks. “Didn’t know you liked redheads.”
This just embarrassed Mickey further, much to his amusement. “Don’t you have a fucking date to get ready for?”
“Fiona will understand,” he reasoned. Mickey scowled. “So, you gonna unpack your shit and quit actin’ so dramatic?”
“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, but he did just that, pulling his clothes out to stuff back into his dresser drawers.
“I meant what I said, you know,” Colin said, watching Mickey slow his movements. “I don’t care. You’re my brother no matter if you like dick or not. That ain’t changin’.”
Mickey’s eyes flickered to him. “Thanks,” he said, shifting his footing.
“I just got one question,” Colin said seriously.
“What?”
Colin couldn’t keep up the serious facade any longer, and let a grin bloom over his face. “Who sticks it in who?”
---
“So, a Milkovich, huh?”
The Gallagher house was quiet. Surprisingly, none of the other kids were up yet so no one else knew about Fiona or Ian’s whereabouts last night. She’d rather keep it that way, at least concerning herself. No need to tell them anything right now.
After having changed into fresh clothes, taking care of her hair and brushing her teeth, Fiona went back downstairs to wait. Ian changed too, but he was going to go back to bed once he got a cup of juice to quench his thirst.
They sat across from each other, neither one speaking at first. Fiona observed the way her brother ducked his head a little, a flush taking over his face that made his freckles stand out more than they already did.
“Yeah,” his eyes dropped down to his cup, hands wrapped around it.
“How’d that happen?” Fiona said with curiosity. She never would have thought Mickey Milkovich of all people was secretly gay, and to be dating her brother on top of it.
Ian raked his teeth over his lower lip, contemplating. “He was shopping from Kash and Grab,” he said. “Linda gave Kash a gun to keep him from doing it again but he took that too. So I went to the Milkovich house to get it back.”
Fiona was dumbfounded. Not many people had the balls to go to that house after all the rumors that circled around the SouthSide about them.
“Okay, and then what happened?”
Taking a deep breath, ian said, “I went in his room and kind poked him with a tire iron-”
“What the fuck?”
“He tried to fight me,” Ian recounted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Jesus, I’m surprised that’s all he tried to do,” she shook her head. “Then what happened?”
Given the sheepish smile and the way he wouldn’t look her in the eyes, Fiona is fairly sure she won’t like the answer. “We fucked.”
“You fought and you fucked?” She said incredulously.
“Yeah...”
There was so much she wanted to say, but it was probably hypocritical considering she had her own Milkovich. Instead, she tucked a curl behind her ear, choosing her next word carefully. “Does anyone else know?”
“No,” Ian said, looking pleadingly at her. “And you can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t,” she promised, taking a glance at the clock on the microwave.
Still had around ten minutes ‘till she had to leave.
“You're not upset,” Ian began, causing her to look his way, “are you?”
The question kinda threw her off. “Upset about what?”
“Me and Mickey,” he said quietly.
“Ian, you know I don't have a problem with you being gay.”
“No,” he shook his head, “not that. I mean because he's a Milkovich.”
“I can't really say anything, can I?” She shrugged. “It’s surprisin’ but if you're happy that's all that matters. Besides, anyone can see Mickey clearly feels the same.”
This information made Ian beam. He'd never really had any crushes before like Lip did, at least any that he told her about. There was his whole obsession with Justin Timberlake, though, when he managed to get his hands on a CD and for a long while they all had to endure that music.
“What about you and Colin?” Ian said, “How’d that happen?”
“Would you believe I was drunk off my ass?” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Went to a new bar after a shitty shift. He was there too, didn’t even recognize him at first.”
“And you...fucked?” Ian clarified.
“Yeah,” she said simply. “Made out before that for a while before I realized who he was.”
She’d initially not known what to think once some of the haze in her head cleared up a bit, staring into the bright eyes of Colin Milkovich. She’d heard all the rumors, of course, who hadn’t? She knew what a screwed up mess his family was, but it wasn’t like she had it any better with Frank and Monica.
So Fiona said fuck it and went for it. The two of them had sex in the single stall bathroom for what she believed would be the first and only time.
Only, it hadn’t been.
The two of them found more ways to be around each other, coming into each other’s presence unnecessarily, which led to them to fuck on a non regular basis.
Ian nodded, taking it all in.
“Just promise me something,” she said once the silence started to settle.
He sat up a little straighter. “What’s that?”
“Promise me you’ll be safe?” She said seriously. “Their dad isn’t like Frank. He’s much worse and he’ll fuck you up and get a bunch of his buddies to do the same. If you want to be with Mickey, fine, but you need to be smart about it.”
“I will,” he said immediately. “Don’t worry, Fi. We’ll be careful Mickey’s scared about it too.”
“He told you that?”
“Didn’t have to,” Ian said grimly. She let out a heavy sigh.
It shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn't have to worry about her brother or his boyfriend getting jumped or worse. But as long as people like Terry Milkovich roamed the streets, neither one of them would be safe.
Her brother’s voice brought her out of her musings.
“I didn't expect Colin to be okay with it.”
“With Mickey being gay?” She said.
He nodded. “I know Mandy's not like that but from what Mickey said, his brother and cousins all follow his dad's lead.”
“He's not his dad,” Fiona knew that for a fact. “Neither is Iggy. They just can't let Terry know that.”
“Jesus,” Ian muttered. He looked at her, like he was able to say something else. “Do you think Mickey's okay? I think he was a bit freaked out that you and Colin know.”
“He's probably fine,” Fiona said. At least, she thought so. Whether Colin would handle this appropriately was debatable. When Ian yawned, she smiled fondly. “Get some sleep, Sweetface. You still got work later.”
“Okay,” he got up to rinse his cup, dragging himself up the stairs. “Night, Fi.”
“Night,” she watched him disappear around the corner.
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Red Dead But It's...
Vampires: Kingdom of the Night

Tags: ArthurxOFC, vampire!Arthur, horror, slow burn
Chapter Summary: Arthur awakes with a fever that won't quit and a strange, disturbing hunger.
MASTERPOST
Chapter 4
Words: 1,275
Eyes split open. Arthur's vision was so clear, so sharp, it stung to look around. The cave ceiling loomed above him, every crack and crevice visible despite the dim light. He blinked hard. Hadn't it been night? How long had he been unconscious?
He sat up abruptly, a hand flying to his throat. The memory of teeth tearing into his flesh was vivid, the pain still echoing through his mind. But his fingers found only smooth skin where the wound should have been. Frantically, he traced the area, feeling nothing but two small, raised scars where her teeth had punctured him.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
The cave was empty. No sign of the woman, Cécile, had remained except for a few drops of blood on the stone floor. His blood. Arthur touched a bewildered hand to the scars again. No wound could heal that fast, especially not ones that bled from the neck. It wasn't possible.
He staggered to his feet, head swimming. His body felt wrong. His skin didn't fit right anymore. A fever burned through him, scattering his thoughts like startled birds. Something was very wrong.
"That goddamn woman." Memories of her attack flooded back. "What did she do to me?"
Outside the cave, dawn had broken, though the sun remained hidden behind heavy clouds. Rain fell in patchy sheets, drumming against the rocky mountainside. In the distance, beyond the hills and forests, plumes of dark smoke rose into the sky.
Arthur stumbled to where he'd hitched his horse. The Tennessee Walker shifted nervously as he approached, backing away with ears flattened.
"Easy, boy," he murmured, reaching for the reins. The Walker responded with a sharp blast of air through flared nostrils.
It took several minutes to calm the animal enough to mount. Even then, the horse remained skittish beneath him, as if sensing something wrong with its rider. He couldn't blame it. He felt wrong himself.
The rain plastered his hair to his forehead as he scanned the ground. There. Leading away from the cave mouth was a set of footprints. Small, barefoot. They should have been washed away by the rain, but these were fresh, pressed deep into the mud. She couldn't have gotten far.
The trail led down the mountainside, winding through stands of pine and over rocky outcroppings. The woman's footprints never faltered, even on treacherous slopes where Arthur's horse had to pick its way carefully. She moved like someone who knew these mountains well.
Arthur urged his reluctant mount forward, following the tracks. Vision warbled. Fever blurred and spun the world around him. But beneath the fever, something else burned, hot as a skillet.
Outrage.
That woman had attacked him, bitten him, had done something to him. Forced her blood in his mouth and given him some kind of disease that made his skin feel too tight and his senses too sharp.
I'll find you, he thought to himself as his teeth clenched against a wave of nausea. I'll get answers, and then I'll kill you.
Or like someone who wasn't human.
Arthur shook the thought away. The fever was making him delirious. There was no such thing as monsters, just people who acted like them. Whatever she'd done to him, whatever disease she'd given him when she bit him, there'd be a cure. There had to be.
A wave of hunger crashed through him, so intense it doubled him over in the saddle. His stomach twisted painfully, and for a moment, the world around him turned red.
"Jesus," he fought to stay upright.
He tried to eat some of his leftover jerky, but when he pulled out the pack, it only reeked of rot and death as if it'd been left out in the sun and spoiled for months. Strange, considering he'd purchased it only days ago.
The hunger passed, leaving him trembling and cold despite the fever. Arthur wiped sweat from his brow and forced himself to focus on the tracks. They were leading east, toward the lowlands. Toward Saint Denis.
Hours passed as he followed the trail. The rain came and went and came back again, but the woman's footprints remained clear, as if mocking his pursuit. Sometimes they disappeared for stretches where she'd taken to higher ground, but Arthur always found them again. His tracker's instincts remained sharp, even as the fever worsened.
By midday, the mountains had given way to rolling hills, and the hills to the marshy outskirts of Lemoyne. Saint Denis loomed in the distance, its factory smokestacks pumping black clouds into a gray sky.
Arthur's condition deteriorated with each passing mile. The hunger returned in waves, stronger each time. His vision blurred, then focused with painful clarity. Sounds assaulted him. The distant whistle of a train, the call of birds, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush. Even the beating of his own heart seemed unnaturally loud.
When he passed a small homestead, he caught the scent of the family inside, their sweat, their blood, which hit him like a kick to the head. A voice called to him. Blood, it said. Arthur reeled in the saddle, horrified by his own thoughts. What the hell was happening to him?
The woman's trail led straight toward Saint Denis. On the horizon, he could see the city's factories of blech their filth into the air. Arthur followed doggedly, driven by a need for answers that overshadowed even the strange hunger. He'd find her. He'd make her tell him what she'd done.
As the city drew closer, the woman's footprints joined a well-traveled road. Arthur lost her trail among the countless tracks of wagons, horses, and pedestrians. But he didn't need it anymore.
The city's stench reached him long before he reached its outskirts. Smoke, sewage, unwashed bodies, blood. That butcher-shop scent, it made his mouth water. Blood. He could smell blood from miles away.
He shook away his cravings, dismissed them as symptoms of whatever disease that woman had passed to him.
By the time he reached the city limits, night was falling again. Arthur's fever had worsened, his skin burning as if from the inside out. Hunger settled in like a tenant with no plans to leave, pulled up a chair in his gut, lit a cigarette, and started talking low about all the things he wanted to taste, the things he’d never taste again. The pattering rhythm under the city's noise tingled in Arthur's ears, a siren's song of every heartbeat (and he could hear so many) that called to him.
He left his horse at a stable on the edge of town, the stablehand eyeing him.
"You alright, mister? You don't look so good."
"I'm fine," Arthur tossed the man a few coins. "Just need some rest."
But rest was the furthest thing from his mind as he stalked into the city. The streets of Saint Denis teemed with life, workers returning home, socialites heading to evening engagements, vendors hawking their final wares of the day. Each person he passed was a new canvas of scents and sounds, and their rushing pulses lit up under their skin like brush strokes of light. When the lamplight hit them, he swore he could see the fractals of it fluttering through them, turning them almost transparent, highlighting the thick veins of their exposed necks.
This was madness. It had to be. These were things crazy people saw right before their minds got swept up in the currents of insanity. Arthur needed answers before he lost himself completely to whatever was consuming him.
He stumbled as he wandered, and his feet eventually carrying him to the entrance of a grand old saloon at the end of the road called La Rose Noire.
Chapter 5
#rdr2 fanfiction#read dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#rdr#rdr2#rdr2 fic#red dead fandom#van der linde gang#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x female oc#slow burn
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oliver evans railing us because of a bad grade.
Authors Note: Sorry this took so long! Hope u enjoy!
Summary: Oliver Evans railing you because of a bad grade!
Contains: dom! Oliver evans x sub! Reader, degrading, filthy smut drabble, f! reader, probably ooc bc I dont usually watch the man 😭 a bit rushed sorry pookie none of my works are proofread!
PROFESSOR OLIVER EVANS who had enough of your shenanigans, after repeatedly drilling numbers and words into your stupid brain, you decided to return his help with a failing grade.
He was grading your exam, incredulous of how many goddamn times he had to use his red pen to swipe an x on what seemed like every other question. The professor was flabbergasted, appalled, shocked, in awe.
How the fuck did you fail? You met him after school every day, sometimes even before class started, and went over questions you didn't understand. Oliver almost deemed you hopeless, if only you hadn't look at him with such pleading eyes, a slight pout to your lips as you cocked your head to the side, asking,
"Professor, don't give up on me now, pretty please? I promise to make you proud."
How could Oliver say no to such a pretty thing? Maybe you weren't a lost cause.
Now, you stand before him and he tosses the thick packet of an exam towards you. Oliver appears too calm, and it is starting to make you squirm underneath his scrutinizing gaze.
"Want to tell me how this happened?" Professor asks under his breath, the students filing out the room sending pitying looks your way.
You fidget with the buttons of your blouse as you figure out something to say. "I... well..."
"Look. At. Me." His demanding tone forces you to jerk your face back up at him. "When you talk to me."
"Yeah Prof-"
"Yes, Professor," Oliver corrects, rising to his feet and navigating himself around his desk. He stops a couple inches away from you and points to the exam. "I stayed after for hours, assisting you with any questions you had. You were understanding it, I saw. So how in the hell did you fail?"
You don't reply, just gazing up at him with some sort of emotion he couldn't quite catch floating in your eyes. The professor had to think for a moment. Why exactly did you not pass the test, even though you clearly understood the contents?
Oliver steps closer to you, taking your chin with his pointer and thumb. Your eyes visibly widen, and upon further inspection, your pupils dilated. Your breaths are shallow and barely feather his face.
"Did you... fail it purposely?" The professor questions.
You swallow. "What? I would never."
"You're lying," Oliver hisses, squeezing your chin and you wince slightly, but that didn't stop the blush spreading across your cheeks. "You failed something I prepared you for. Do you take me as an idiot?"
"Only sometimes," you mumble under your breath and it irks him.
"The audacity," Oliver breathes, releasing your chin but not stepping away. "For wasting my time, my valuable time, you're going to make it up to me."
"Wha-"
Oliver presses you against his desk, standing in between your legs as he bunches the skirt around your hips. The professor leans close to your ear, whispering dirty things that make the tips of your ears go red.
"Is this what you wanted? for me to punish you?" Oliver whispers, pressing himself into you, his hard erection brushing against your thigh.
"Professor, w-wait!" You stammer, pressing your hands against his chest while he kisses down your neck, leaving behind heat trailing down. "What if someone hears?"
"They won't," Oliver responds, ripping off your underwear with just a finger. "Flimsy thing. As for you, you'll be a good slut and stay quiet, mm?"
You shiver as the cool air hits your searing hot core and your legs close around his hips. Oliver traps your mouth with his, hunger in every deep kiss. You moan quietly, and then arch your back as his thumb traces circles on your clit. Oliver spreads your folds open with ease, one finger pumping in and out of your wet hole while the other circles the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Professor," you gasp against his lips, hands gripping the back of his dress shirt hard.
"Shut up," he growls, plunging another finger inside and causing you to cry out. "I said shut up. I thought you would at the very least have some smarts in you. You're just a dumb, horny bitch who's willing to throw her whole college life away, just to fuck her professor?"
You whine, the heat in your face rising as you hide your face in his neck, legs shaking. His fingers piston in and out with surprising speed, curling and prodding at all the right spots. You feel the tension in your stomach build up, your noises bubbling out of you but you try your hardest to hide it.
"Look how wet you are," Oliver cooes, pulling his fingers out to slap your cunt. You squeal, your hole clamping on nothing. "Take off your shirt."
You nod obediently, lifting your shirt up and over your head, discarding it to the side. You unclip your bra without another word, the professor's eyes watching with a dark lust.
You cross your arms, under your breasts so they're pushed up as you smile innocently. "Will this help my grade, Professor?"
"If you deserve it," Oliver says, voice low and husky, unbuckling his pants and letting them drop to the floor. His hands snatch your hips, slanting them to his cock. You yelp, falling back on your palms and the professor shoves himself inside you. A cry almost escapes your lips if he hadn't slapped a hand over your mouth.
"I said, keep your voice down," he snarls.
Tears brim your eyes at the stretch, nails digging into the wooden desk. Oliver groans quietly at the tightness, swearing in his native tongue quietly. You breathe rapidly through your nose, the harsh stretch slowly becoming pleasing as you roll your hips a bit.
The professor's other hand grips your thigh hard, dragging his cock in and out slowly through your fluttering walls. Slow and steady, your soft noises muffled.
Right before he rams hard into you. Your eyes roll back and a loud muffled moan. Like a beast unleashed, Oliver ruts inside you, panting and groaning. They're very low and quiet, compared to your high pitched whines.
"Fucking whore," the professor mutters, skin against skin resonating through the empty class room. Your slick coating his length and balls, it is so easy to just force his way through, brushing against your sweet spot. It made you stars in your vision, and it didn't take long until all you saw was white.
You release hard against cock, a shudder taking over your body. At the same time, Oliver cums inside you, ribbons of white covering your walls as he lets out a low guttural moan. The stickiness connecting you both as you gasp for breath after he removes his hand off your face.
"We're not done," Oliver breathes, pinching a tit and you whimper. "I told you I was going to punish you for wasting my time. I'm going to use you, the way you used me."
#chaotic.text#nijisanji#vtuber#nijisanji x reader#nijien#nijisanji smut#oliver evans#Nijisanji jp#Smut drabble#x female reader
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