#yes they are all replies to the same thread | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laufeysvalentine · 6 months ago

Text

i want you.

remus lupin x fem!reader | masterlist

summary ༄ remus x best friend!reader -- or in which you're in love with your best friend, but he's not exactly in love with you back... angst

word count ༄ 3.2k

nora’s notes ༄ eeek my first writing post!! i'm so excited. this is kind of bad but IDC part two will be coming and i swear will be better written okay enjoy!! mwah 💘

“moony!” you sing-song as you twirl into his dorm, lips spread into a wide grin. “we’re leaving for hogsmeade, hurry up.”

he’s on his bed, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he glances up from his book, suppressing a smile when he sees you. “hi, y/n.”

he embodies the word comfort, you think. he’s wearing one of his trademark warm wool sweaters, an empty mug of tea by his knee, gray blanket draped across his lap, and that smile. it would be the death of you, you were sure of it.

“hi,” you respond, clasping his book and setting it onto his bedside table. “c’mon, everyone’s waiting for us downstairs.”

he sighs so deeply you think he might crack a lung, and loops his pointer finger through one of the belt loops of your jeans to pull you onto his bed. “do we have to?”

as much as you’d like to stay here with him, you also want to buy more chocolate frogs, so you spring back up, tugging at his hand. “yes, please. i’m low on my candy stock.”

he groans, letting you pull him off of his bed and out of the dorm. “your sweet tooth is killing me.”

you shrug. “that’s what you signed up for when you said yes to being friends in first year. now you’re just living with it.”

he just hums in agreement, letting you wrap your arm around his. remus lupin, your best friend. he’s the kindest man you’ve ever met, let alone known. it would be a lie to say you weren’t completely and utterly in love with him, and even more of a lie to say you hadn’t been since before you were a teenager, even if you didn’t understand it then. but, alas, as soon as you’d admitted it to yourself, you also resolved to never, ever tell him. you were sure he didn’t feel the same about you, and why would you carelessly toss away the best friendship and most understanding person ever just for some feelings?

and so, you waited and hoped, prayed that it would go away. you would move on and keep your friendship.

and, of course, you didn’t.

“y/n!” james calls once he sees the two of you walking down the stairs to where the rest of the marauders are waiting. “finally.”

“we sent you up like ten minutes ago,” peter complains, frowning.

you shrug. “oops.”

remus shifts his arm to settle around your waist, nudging you in front of him. “well, we’re here now, so get a move on.”

you thread the hand he placed on your stomach with your own, thumb rubbing circles onto his. he smiles down on you, and that smile, oh, lord. you could see it a million times and never have enough. you’d jump over bridges to have him watch you like that all the time. you’d sell your soul to be his, really and truly. and the worst part is, you have no shame about it. merlin, you’re in love.

—

jelly beans or chocolate frogs, that is the question. you glance at one, then the other, then the other again. your shoulders slump. it’s too hard of a decision. you’re about to cave and get both when you feel warm arms wrap around your waist, a chin settling onto your shoulder. without looking, you press a kiss to remus’ cheek. “hi.”

“hi,” he replies, inhaling your scent, nose tucked between your ear and your hair.

“chocolate frogs or jelly beans?” you ask anxiously, holding up the two in front of you. “or both?”

“both,” he agrees with you, and you can feel the tension slowly leaving him as he stands behind you, entwined with you.

you nod, happy with his judgment, about to speak when someone beats you to it.

“remus?” a voice yells from behind, excitement coloring her tone.

you know who this is without looking too, but you wish you didn’t. remus slowly stands back to his whole height, and the sudden absence of his warmth makes you shiver. you turn just as he does, even if you don’t want to see the girl beaming at him.

you know her, of course you do. doesn’t everyone know celeste huxley, the most beautiful hufflepuff to grace hogwarts’ campus? angels sing when she walks past, men and women fall to her feet in her wake. she’s worshiped, adored. okay, you’re being dramatic, but still.

you hate her.

you hate her silky hair, her evergreen smile, her cesspool of kindness.

and you hate yourself more for hating her. she’s never been mean to you a day in her life, she couldn’t be mean to anyone even if she tried. but still. she’s who you’ve tried to be your whole life. she is the blueprint, the model with cherry-red high heels you wobble and blister your feet in. she has all Os on her OWLs, victoria’s secret hair, people who love on her like a celebrity. and she’s fucking obsessed with your best friend, of course. she could have anyone in the world, and she picked him. why couldn’t she love sirius or james, like half the girls at the school? why did she have to want remus?

and the worst part is, she deserves him. he deserves someone as perfect as he is, even if that’s celeste.

as you swallow down your hatred, you realize she’s started to pull remus away from you, pulling on his sleeve towards the jelly slugs, and you almost lob your stupid chocolate frog at her head. tears sting your eyes and you try your best to blink them back as you watch remus watch you, only half-listening to her blabber. he knows you hate her, and the most sheepish, guilty look comes over his face. you ignore him, putting your candy back, too upset to think about eating it. luckily, you spot sirius in the corner and quickly try to make your way over him when you’re pulled back.

remus has got ahold of your belt loops again, and you watch him whisper something to celeste before gently removing her hand from his sweater and pulling away. he chose you now, but for how long? the thought chills you, goosebumps prickling your skin, your heart.

“dove,” he says quietly by your ear. “what happened to your candy?”

“didn’t want it,” you mumble, walking towards sirius.

“why not?” he’s dancing around the topic, and both of you know it.

“not hungry.”

“i’m sorry.”

“s’not your fault,” you say. you’re not mad at him, you could never really be mad at him, but you’re upset nonetheless. you push away towards the black-haired boy perusing the shelves. “siri, you done?”

you link arms with your other friend, leading him out of honeyduke’s, leaving remus trailing behind.

—

“hi dove.” a voice, and its accompanying owner, peeks out from the doorway into your dorm. “may i come in?”

“hi rem,” you say in response, beckoning him in, putting your book to the side to let him crawl onto you. “can’t you always?”

his shoulders sag slightly, slumping into your bed as soon as he reaches it. his head is in your lap, and he closes his eyes once you begin to massage his scalp with your fingers, pressing a kiss to your exposed hipbone next to him.

you don’t say anything, you just let the silence dance between the two of you.

he’s so pretty. you brush some of his sandy strands out of his face to let yourself just admire him. the towering giant and all his gentleness. your fingers trace the outlines of his face, the scars that decorate it, all the way down to his right pinky, where he has the cutest tattoo.

i love you is all you want to say. the words pulse at your throat, begging you to let them free. but you can’t. you can’t lose him. anyone else, sure, you would do it. but not him. not remus, your remus.

when he wakes, groggy but grounded, you have a hot cup of tea ready by your bed, ready for his consumption. you hand it to him as soon as he’s fully awake, pulling himself off of you to accept the mug. “i don’t deserve you, dovie.”

“don’t say stuff like that, rem. if anything, you deserve better.” you press a kiss to his cheek, smiling.

“there’s nobody and nothing better than you,” he promises, hand landing on your lower thigh to massage it gently. you smile, letting the quiet linger between the two of you a little longer before speaking up.

“you wanna talk about it?” you ask, watching him sip his tea.

he gives you the most adoring smile, and you want to put it in a box and lock it up and keep it forever. “just tired.”

“okay,” you say, searching his face to verify what he’s saying. “you can always talk to me, you know.”

“thank you.” remus is always sincere, it’s one of the things you love about him, but he seems especially sincere now. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y/n.”

“and you are to me,” you whisper, eyes dipping to his plush pink lips. you want to kiss him so badly right now, but you know he just means it like a friend, as much as you wish it wouldn’t.

swallowing, you wipe those ideas away, choosing to rest your head against his fleece sweater-covered shoulder. he drops a kiss onto the top of your head, and you sigh in contentment. this is why you refuse to tell him you love him. you couldn’t live without these moments.

“there’s a party tonight at nine-ish,” he says softly. his thumb is rubbing circles on your knee. “sirius is dragging me along. will you come?”

you contemplate it only briefly. “i’m tired, rem. you should go, though.”

“i’ll stay back with you,” he decides with resolution. your heart melts, it’s sweet of him to want to stay with you, but you want him to have fun. plus, you can feel in how his body coiled with excitement when he talked about it–he wants to go.

“no, go.” you glare playfully at him. “i won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

“i’ll stay with you,” he repeats, staring right back at you. “it’s just a party. i’d stay with you forever, you know? you’re my favorite person.”

“i’ll be mad at you if you don’t go, i swear to merlin,” you egg him on, heart melting.

“no.” he’s too stubborn for his good.

“i want to be alone,” you lie. you know he wants to go and you refuse to hold him back. “i might come later on, just not at nine. i’ll be there at ten, maybe.”

“and i’ll wait for you,” he promises.

“please, remus.” you put on your saddest tone, gaze up at him pleadingly. “i just need some alone time.”

“you want to be alone?” he asks cautiously, searching for any hint you may be lying.

“yes.” you cross your toes, tucked under your quads.

he’s hesitating, and as if in perfect timing, a knock sounds at your door before a familiar head of black hair peeks through.

“moony, let’s go. leave poor y/n alone.” sirius clicks his tongue.

you push remus’ shoulder lightly, gesturing for him to go. he casts one long look at your face, as if memorizing every ridge.

“she’s not going to change while we’re gone, get a move on,” sirius groans from the door. you nod at the statement, and remus concedes.

“i’ll be here the whole time,” you promise.

“call me if you get lonely.” he makes you swear before reluctantly getting up. you kiss his hand to send him off.

you were lying when you said you would join him at nine. five minutes after he’s out the door, you’re fast asleep under the covers, the ghost of his touch comforting you.

—

as soon as your eyes open, you let out a sound of disappointment. you can tell you haven’t slept through the night, as none of your roommates are in their beds, and they always sleep in. the clock reads that it’s only a bit before eight forty five, and you roll over in your bed. you know you won’t be able to fall back asleep, but you try anyway, until the door slams and your eyes fly open.

it’s lily, face flushed with the cold and excitement. the second she sees you kissed by sleep, she covers her mouth. “sorry, y/n! were you sleeping?”

you wave her off. “no, i was already awake. what’s up?”

“james is going to be at the party tonight. will you come? please, please, please? i don’t want to go alone with him,” she begs. “please.”

you weigh your options: if you stay here, you’ll just lay in bed, not sleeping. you might as well go with her, you’ll see remus there too.

“okay,” you agree, and she practically drags you out of bed, she’s so happy.

—

even though lily’s the one who dragged you here to keep her away from james, she’s off with him in a corner within ten minutes of you getting there, leaving you in a sea of other people, alone. of course, you know most of your housemates that are stuffed into this crowded common room, but you don’t know any particular one of them enough to properly go up to and chat. you sit awkwardly on a couch for a few minutes, next to couples making out, before finally just giving up and getting ready to leave.

you saw sirius going into a bedroom with someone, so he’s out of the picture, peter’s smoking in the corner with some ravenclaws you have no interest in speaking with, james is alone with lily, and he’d kill you if you interrupted them, and you have absolutely no clue where remus is.

whatever. you walk towards the door to the girls’ dormitories, stumbling over students on the way, when you just barely catch a glimpse of sandy hair outside on a balcony. you’d know it anywhere–that’s remus. you scramble towards him, eager to see a friendly face, hand cracking the door open, when just as quickly as it came, the excitement dies in your throat.

because just behind remus is a girl you hate to see. celeste, hair floating behind her. if you blink hard enough, you see a breeze wafting through her hair as her fingers knot around remus’–your remus–neck. his hands are on the small curve of her waist, and he’s pushing her against the railing and, oh god–they’re kissing.

you let out a thick gasp and your hand slaps over your mouth. you turn and flee. they probably heard you, but they can’t maneuver through the crowd like you can. within seconds, you’re sure you’ve lost any trace of them, darting through people as you sprint outside to the outside of the castle. sure it’s past curfew, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

no one will see you now.

he’s supposed to be yours. he was yours, he was yours in more than just a best friend. those nights when he fell asleep in your bed, having you wrap your arms around him for warmth, he was yours. when you always visited him post-full moon in the apothecary, and as much as he wishes to push you away, you never let him, he was yours then. when he lets you in, truly and fully, and lets himself cry against you, letting you take care of him for once. you’re the only person he’s ever let himself cry in front of.

and even though you’d deny it a million times, and you did, to sirius, to james, you’ve always hoped that he liked you back. deep down, in the parts of your soul you only ever showed to him. he didn’t have to love you, even. just like, that would be enough. anything would.

but that was too much for him, clearly.

you’re crying. tears, fat and hot, soaking the skin on your cheeks. head in your hands, letting your open palms pool the salty water. you feel nothing but yourself and the wind against the cold of the stone steps, whipping your hair around.

“dove.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’re hallucinating, praying the voice you just heard wasn’t real. you couldn’t see him right now. that would be humiliating.

“y/n?”

you crack your eye open when you hear the same voice, trying to swallow your sobs back and failing as they manifest into ugly hiccups. you’re not hallucinating. merlin damn it.

in front of you, peering up at your blotchy face, is remus lupin, your best friend. the man who’s not yours.

he’s on the step below you, but one hand snakes its way onto your knee, soothing your skin with his slender thumb, the other finding your hand to intertwine your fingers. fuck, his touch both makes you lean into him and want to throw up at the same time. his eyes are chock-full of compassion, and god, you hate it. “what’s wrong?”

his words send you blubbering into tears again, rubbing at your eyes as something splits open in your chest. “n-nothing.”

“something’s wrong, love. let me help you. let me in,” he pleads in the softest tone, and you have to fight to not give in, to wrap your arms around him and never let go. remember celeste, remember that terrible sight of his lips on hers.

“remus, leave me alone.” you’re shaking, but somewhere inside you, you find your resolve. you stand, pulling away from him, and make to run back inside the castle, but his long legs catch up to you easily, arm shooting around your waist when your knees buckle and you collapse onto the floor in sobs.

“y/n, you’re scaring me,” he says, panic accumulating in his voice. “please tell me what’s wrong and i’ll fix it, i promise. please, baby. it’s killing me hear you cry.”

you’re so close to the doors, you can see them. you stand again. “you don’t get to say that.”

“what?” his arm’s still around your shoulder and you shove it off.

“stop it! you’re so mean, remus. you don’t get to call me dove and call me baby and say stupid things like how there’s nobody better than me and i’m your favorite person and then go off and kiss other girls,” you spit out on the verge of hyperventilating. you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. it’s just coming out, spewing out of your mouth like the vomit that’s sure to follow. but even as each word shocks you, you know they ring true. “i hate you for it. i hate you for leading me on for years when i’ve loved you since we were kids! you’re terrible, remus. i hate you.”

he’s absolutely stunned trying to process your words, and you use the momentary distraction to race back into the school, gunning for your dorm and locking it once you’re inside. the image of celeste and remus plays through your mind all night, so much that you can barely even think about how you confessed your love to him.

masterlist | next part

tags @lydiasfalling @dancingwithourhandsuntied

#nora's scribbles ᝰ.ᐟ #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin angst #marauders #the marauders #x reader #harry potter #hp #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #laufeysvalentine #I LOVE U!

2K notes · View notes

lovegasmic · 1 year ago

Note

hi ! i’m not sure if ur reqs are open but i was wondering if i could get a bff gojo x fem reader having sex for the first time even tho they’re just besties ^.^ i’m in love w bff gojo + i love ur writing !!

BFF ! ( best friends who fuck )

⋆ mdni. cunilingus, pussy drunk Satoru, a bunch of praising, dirty talk and pet names like baby, princess, pretty, angel ‹3. ( nonie ily this idea made me scream for a good while and also thank you so so much ! im happy u like what I write 𖹭 ) and yes! my requests are always open

⋆ side note: it’s up to you to decide if they're virgins or not ajsgshsh I left that open to interpretation lol.

late night friday movies with Satoru where a must, cozy blankets covering your thighs and whatever it could from your best friend’s incredibly long legs propped up on the coffee table. what started with you both picking whatever cringe movie and attempting to watch through it, ended up with giggled remarks of the horrendous plot and terrible acting in the screen.

Satoru’s rambles over any minor detail were expected, what you did not expect was for him to suggest something completely unexpected, “have you thought about it?” he asks, a big chunk of ice cream down his mouth while pointing at the tv screen where the main two characters were currently passionately making out, “you and me?”

the saliva in your mouth chokes you for a brief second before turning your head towards the man with the cocky smile, “you’re kidding”

“i’m not” he speaks, remaining unbothered, eyes glued to the now clean spoon, “we’ve known each other since so long, don’t you think our sexual chemistry would be amazing?” Satoru smirks, now turning and leaning closer to your wide eyed face.

you couldn’t deny your best friend was incredibly hot, bright blue eyes and messy white hair with matching long eyelashes, he was ethereal and Satoru thought the same about you, he never admitted how fucking gorgeous you were but his continuous praises in the shape of petnames was, hopefully, enough for you to see.

“i don’t know...” you bite your lip, a slight tug on your belly making itself present at the closeness of him, subtly forcing you to lean back until your head laid on the armrest and Satoru’s body towered over yours.

“c’mon pretty, don’t get all shy on me” he rasps, “i bet i can make you feel so good, i know your cute body like no one else” and to be fair, he is right, multiple tickling fights have had you confessing your sensitive spots to Satoru, which now he attempts to use them for your pleasure.

you whine, low and almost inaudible, “promise our friendship won’t change” you reply, and it’s all Satoru needs, a strained ‘promise’ muttered before his lips crash on yours with a satisfied groan, his tongue is quick to meet yours, tangling and allowing the lewd sound of saliva and lips crashing resonate under the tv sound muffled in the background.

“haaa” he gasps once you break the kiss, hands eagerly pulling, squeezing and tugging on your skin and clothes until you’re laying naked under his body, Satoru’s quick to take off his shirt and toss it aside along with the mess of cloth in the floor, “you’re so sexy, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous” it’s a dark murmur, sliding your panties down for his eyes to see the threads of slick connecting your folds and the fabric, a broken sound coming from his lips as if he just got punched in the gut.

“gonna make you feel so good, princess” Satoru speaks to himself, eyes glued on your cunt as he lays down between your legs, fingertips parting your glistening folds with a soft gasp, truth to be told, he’s never been so turned on in his whole life, “wanna eat your perfect cunt so bad” he shakes, slowly grinding his boxer clothed cock against the couch, a single hand coming up to squeeze your tits while his tongue took a tentative lick on your slit that made his eyes roll.

“fuck!” you both whimper at the same time, with Satoru’s mind reeling at the taste of you, driven by his lust and pulsing cock as he leans down and attaches his lips to your pussy, messily and desperately eating you out with his eyes crossing from pleasure, a couple groans expressed directly on your sensitive flesh.

“so good, baby, you taste amazing” Satoru slurs, holding onto your asscheeks and pulling you up slightly, on the perfect angle to make out with your cunt. the moans you let out are music to his ears, driving him to plunge his tongue deeper, squeeze your ass harder and moan louder.

“’Toru, i’m so close” you squeal, expecting for him to pull back, to let you catch a break but surprisingly, he just goes faster, the sounds of his tongue in and around your pussy only increasing, fueling you to squirm and tug on his soft hair until you’re spasming around his tongue with a broken cry.

yet his tongue doesn’t stop for another couple of minutes, allowing you to ride your orgasm and buck slightly, fucking yourself on his eager tongue, “you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted” he finally grunts, voice hoarse and eyes almost black by the lust etched in his brain, the spot under his hips sticky with the copious amounts of precum his twitching cock spurted, “you’re letting me fuck you now, right princess?” Satoru murmurs, not really expecting a reply before tapping your puffy clit with the glistening tip of his cock, eyes fully focused in the way your mixed juices stick to his cock with each soft tap.

then you nod slightly, a quiet “please”, followed by your hands on his hips and he’s inching inside of you, barely spreading your folds around his girth but Satoru already feels like he’s about to faint.

“a-ah, fuck...!” he groans, shaky fingers grasp your waist and the armrest above your head, and from where you laid you could see his abs clenching, chest heaving, eyes blurry and jaw slacked, letting out loud puffs of pleasure, absolutely fucked out. it takes his whole strength to bury the rest of his long cock inside your warm cunt, groaning like it fucking hurts, but in reality, the thing it hurts him is thinking why you haven’t fucked earlier. “you’re an angel, you and your heavenly cunt” it takes everything in Satoru as not to drool and pant like a dog, slowly and sloppily fucking into your warmth, his nails are probably ripping the leather of the couch but he doesn’t mind, hell no, his mind is fully absorbed and bordering on insanity at the feeling of you, “tell me how it feels” he begs.

“so good, ’toru” you whimper, eyes not certain if to see his fucked expression or look down to where his cock buries inside of you, coming out glistening by your dripping slick, “my pussy feels so good”

“fuck, baby!” his eyes close shut, a shudder running down his spine at your words, only encouraging him to go faster, the squelch of your cunt and his balls smacking on your ass growing, “that’s right, only i can make you feel this good, hm? no other boy you’ll sleep with will make you feel like this” he roars, “this pussy is made for me to claim and mold you to the shape of my cock” his thrusts are now erratic, panting so loud you’re unsure how he hasn’t choked yet, but the continuous smack of his tip on your g-spot makes you forget about anything else, mouth open and eyes crossed as you feel yourself cumming unannounced.

“oh, god, you’re cumming?” he sounds shocked, eyes widening and cock throbbing at the sensation of your cunt sucking on his length with each thrust, as if not wishing to let him go, “i’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close” all you hear through the slight buzz on your ears is babbling, incoherent mumbling of Satoru speaking to himself, fucking himself stupid on your pussy before, much against his wishes, pulling out of your warmth and shooting thick ropes of hot cum on your chest, some even landing on your chin by how hard you made him cum.

in the blink of an eye his lips are on yours again, shakily and way too messy for you to follow through the limp state where he left you, but don’t worry, Satoru will help you increase your stamina too, and perhaps, you’ll let him cum inside next time.

7K notes · View notes

rafessweetgirl · 3 months ago

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀�� i've been missing you ~ joaquín torres

➷ featuring: joaquín torres!!

➷ synopsis: joaquín's finally come home from what felt like the longest week of your lives. he needs to show you how much he's sorry for being gone for so long. how much he appreciates you. how much he loves you. even if it means waking you up in the middle of the night.

➷ warnings: 18+, mdni!!!!, smut, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, porn w/ plot???, swearing, fluff, soft sweet cutesy joaquín, semi-somno (leaving this here just incase), reader acts like joaquín hung the stars and the moon for her...he would've if he wasn't beat to it by like thousands of years.

➷ word count: 1.2k

➷ notes: new character unlocked!! lots of firsts here; first joaquin fic, first marvel fic (odd considering i fuckin love marvel), first time writing a full smut fic, first fic that's not based on a song whattttt?? i wasnt sure if i should go full on somno, but that's alr bc we love consent. i love joaquín and this is what i imagine he would act like when he feels guilty. enjoy!! <3 (gif by @monikanarnia)

you look so pretty like this. smooth, soft skin, covered only by the soft linen sheets in which your legs are tangled. your sleeping form, barely visible in the dark room. you’re lying on your back, your hands resting on the mattress near both sides of your head. it’s a scene joaquín wants a picture of. if only he could freeze time, step out of his body and capture not just an image, but a feeling too.

joaquín's restless. he’d spent all week without you. he still wonders how he withstood such a long period away and if you felt the same. after the first day, he felt like he was experiencing withdrawal, everyday without you his own personal hell. you’re his drug. he could just never have enough of you. really, he could never have too much.

his back is also to the bed, chest to the ceiling. his head is turned towards you, eyes roaming your relaxed form. the room is dark, illuminated only by the moon. it’s mostly silent. he’s hyper aware of the subtle sounds, though. the clashing of waves outside. the creaking of the open balcony doors, opening a bit more with the breeze. his breathing. your breathing. even something as simple as your soft slow breaths entrances joaquín.

you were sleep when he arrived home, but it was evident that you tried to stay up. the living room was set up for a movie night with snacks set on the coffee table, fluffy throw blankets lying on the couch, and the tv already set to the movie you’d picked out for the two of you. always so sweet and considerate, joaquín thought. he felt bad about keeping you waiting for so long. you’d awaken only long enough to realize he was home, greeting him lazily before falling back into your slumber.

he turns his body to face yours. you deserve some kind of loving from him. a gift for being his gift. it's the least he could do.

he sits up and moves himself, landing in between your thighs. he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through your limp ones. he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. he just wants to make you feel good. reward you for being so sweet to him. apologize for being away for so long.

“baby?” he tests. “you awake?”

your eyes flutter open. “mmm.”

he lets out a quiet chuckle. “i don’t know what ‘mmm’ means sweetheart.”

“im awake,” you reply groggily.

"good," he brings his face close to your mound. “can i make you feel good?”

you nod tiredly. how could you say no to him? he was irresistible. even when the two of you fought, you couldn't harbor any negative feelings towards him for long.

he shifts upward, gently pressing his lips to your stomach, not quite kissing you. he moves back down, and puckers his lips, delivering sweet kisses to your clit. “is this okay?”

you squeeze his hand as you nod. “mhm.”

“uh uh, needa hear you say yes.”

“yes baby,” you whine.

joaquín groans, the nickname making the blood rush to his dick. he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt, letting his tongue graze over your core. he darts his tongue out and licks a long stripe upwards. you moan and squeeze his hand again. he decides to repeat the action, this time putting more pressure on. he knows how to work your body. knows when to suck and when to lick. when to speed up and when to take it slow.

“i’m so sorry, baby,” he mumbles against you.

“sorry for what?” you question breathlessly.

“for keeping you waiting-“ another kiss. “for taking so long to come home.” his tongue dives in between your folds, as if he’s searching for something. maybe, it’s forgiveness. “you don’t know how much i missed you.”

his other hand finds its way to your thigh. he rubs his thumb back and forth over it. he wants to do anything he can to show you how much he appreciates you.

“joaquín,” you moan, as he brings two fingers to rub your clit. you let your eyes flutter shut, reveling in his softness. “it’s okay, you don’t- fuck.” he speeds up. “you don’t need to apologize. jus glad you’re home safe. missed you more.”

he continues his movements on your cunt, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. he pleasures you the way he loves you, soft but purposeful. “yeah? missed me like i missed you?”

“uh huh,” you pant. "missed you so bad joaquín." you repeat his name again, this time in a moan. you're almost there, teetering closer to your release. you unravel your hand from his, moving both your hands to grip onto his dark hair, squeezing, pulling, grabbing. you rock your hips in tune with the strokes from his tongue. you use joaquín to chase your orgasm and he doesn't mind one bit. he lives for every little reaction your body gives to him. the gasps, the moans, the way your body locks up when you're about to cum - all of it.

joaquín gives you one last long lick, finally gifting you what you've been needing all along.

your back arches off the bed as you throw your head back into the fluffy pillows. your hips freeze and your lips form into an o, letting out a gasp and then a silent moan. pleasure rushes through every vein in your body. it's a lot to handle, but you love this, you love him. you love how he knows your body so well, as if it was his own. joaquín never fails to worship you how you deserve.

he reels back to admire his precious view. your bare chest rises up and down, your arms back where they stared with your luscious hair splayed out on the pillow. you give him a warm smile. "you look so pretty when you cum, sweetheart." he drags his two fingers from your clit and pushes them inside of you. he fingers you gently, helping you ride out your high.

you giggle. "thanks." your exhaustion and post-orgasm bliss combined mimics the feeling of being drunk. you're on cloud nine now and you don't plan on coming down anytime soon. everything is perfect now that you have your lover back home. your other half. your twin flame.

he continues to finger you, slightly curling his fingers. he's still gentle with it and careful not to overstimulate you. he wants to make sure you can fall back asleep easily.

you sit up slowly, making sure not to remove his fingers from inside you. you reach your hands out and joaquín leans forward, placing his head in your hands. you lean in and kiss him softly and it feels right. it’s like taking a deep refreshing breath after being suffocated for what felt like forever.

“i love you torres. missed you so much.” something about you calling him by his surname gets him. you always use it as if it was really his first.

"i love you too baby, and i missed you more.”

you slip your hand in between your bodies, reaching for his cock. “i feel selfish, let me help you feel good.”

he stops you. “you already did, princess. we can worry about that tomorrow. let’s get you back to sleep.”

you sigh dramatically, prompting a laugh from him. “fiiine..” you lay back, already imagining all the ways you could properly welcome him home tomorrow.

for now though, he lies down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. you snuggle into him. your limbs tangle together similar to how tree roots do in a rainforest. your bodies take their time reconnecting after all this time apart, your hearts never disconnecting, not even for a second.

➷ notes: sooo half of the original work got deleted.....idek how to explain it. js know i don't recommend having the same draft opened on mobile and laptop at the same time while in separate stages of a fic on each device....but im so goated (jp) that i remembered pretty much exactly what i wrote, only after having a meltdown over losing it. and almost crying. can u tell this is important to me? anyways feedback is welcome, nd reqs are always open <3 love ya

➷ tags: @sweetstrawberrianne @littlesoulshine (lmk if you want added!)

1K notes · View notes

lighting-and-shadow · 3 months ago

Text

Ikigai, Part 2

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1,

Part 3

The same arms that cradled you last night now carry her. She’s unconscious (apparently because Sylus choked the life out of her and you will be pressing him on that later), and she’s beautiful. So beautiful that you tug on your sleeves a bit to cover more of your skin as you stare. The strange woman is a literal sleeping beauty, so you can’t help but keep your eyes on her.

But those details about her aren’t what make you truly stare. No. Something else entirely makes you stop dead in your tracks as you approach the twins and Sylus at the doors.

Her threads. As in multiple ones. Multiple soulmates and multiple bonds. They flicker in a way you’ve never seen before, and behave like winding paths. They’re each a gateway to a different love, to a different story. And she could choose which one to take.

You don’t know how you know this. But that isn’t new to you. Your power’s always been a mystery to you, seeing the bonds of soulmates even before they themselves have connected and formed. You know someone’s love story before they do. And you know what they’ve lost whenever you see a severed thread like James’. All this you learned through trial and error, since no one else sees what you see.

It got even worse once Evols started showing up and the Deepspace Tunneled opened. Like a puzzle you must assemble without instructions. Or a full picture. While blindfolded.

So, sometimes your ability just tells you things. Like now. It told that this strange girl, Miss Hunter as the twins call her, had multiple possible soulmates. It also told you of her multiple pasts. One of which you know quite intimately.

Sylus. You can’t bare to look at the man in question. From his heart protrudes his string, and on the other end of it is her. Her and not you.

You always knew you’d meet Sylus’ soulmate one day. And when that day came, you knew you’d be happy to see them love one another. But when you imagined that, you imagined he’d be their only love. Not one of many. Not some choice among different slices of pie.

You force yourself to keep walking. Pain creaks through you, like a car slamming on its breaks every few feet. Jagged and raw. Cutting.

”You aren’t her only one,” you want to say. ”You aren’t her only one, and you deserve better than that.”

Why? Why did this girl with so much love have to take from you the one thing you wanted? You want to pluck that stupid string of hers that belongs to Sylus and tie it to your pinky finger. You want to scream at the universe at how unfair this all is.

You don’t do anything of that. Instead, you fall into line with the twins as Sylus takes her to a spare bedroom. Part of you is relieved beyond words he didn’t put her in his own room. You think your heart would’ve given out there and then otherwise.

Once she’s carefully laid down on the bed, Sylus finally speaks.

“Kieran. Luke.”

“Yes boss,” they say in that weird unison thing they’ve always done; you find it strangely endearing.

“Watch her.”

He’s all business, acting as if this was an everyday occurrence. Like he always brought strange girls back to his home.

“Of course, boss,” Kieran replies. He gives you look when he does so. Even with his mask, you could tell what he was trying to say: ”you know what’s going on, right?”

You shake your head at him. His older brother is oblivious to the whole mess, sitting on a chair in the room and kicking his legs back and forth. You envy his silly disposition right now. You couldn’t afford to be nearly as calm.

Sylus and you quickly leave the room, and you guide him to his office rather than his room. Questions burn on the tip of your tongue. They well up inside of you, begging to be released. You can’t bare to let any of them out. So you tame them with persuasion like you’ve done to your clients and opponents in the past.

“He’ll tell you everything,” you think as you walk beside him. ”Just be patient.”

Patience goes out the window the second you two are alone.

“What in the ever-loving fuck do you think you’re doing, Sylus?”

“Name dropping me again, Gamayun. What have I done to bring forth your wrath this time?”

He casually leans against his desk, smirk on his lips and tension in his shoulders. You try to stand a ways away from his, but he uses his Evol to pull you closer. Your feet momentarily leave the floor when he does. The energy of his power is gentle against your skin, and caresses you in an almost apologetic matter.

You glare at him as he does this. He just leans in close to your face, one hand hovering on your waist and the other near your cheek. You stupidly lean into the touch.

Fuck me and my touch-starved self.

“Being sweet with me won’t change the matter at hand.”

“You think I’m sweet on you?” He leans in even closer. “And if it’s worked in the past why can’t it now? Perhaps I need to be more than just sweet…”

He trails off and brushes his fingers on your ear. Suddenly you feel too much. His breath. His skin. The gaze of his eyes. His coat. Everything.

You place a hand on his chest and lightly push. He immediately backs away, and his expression seems to stiffen a bit. You ignore it.

“No amount of sweetness will change the gravity of your lies. You brought a strange woman into the heart of our operation, and I won’t let it go.”

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Do not dodge my question, foolish boss of mine.”

“So feisty today.”

Sylus leans back on the desk and beckons you closer. You stand firm with your hands on your hips and eyes on his soulmate thread. Anything to keep your focus on the task at hand.

He sighs and says your name. You’re inwardly grateful; no Gamayun means no sweetness which means your weak heart won’t make you back out of this conversation.

“She’s a Hunter. One with a unique Evol that I’ll be needing for my plans. That’s all. It’s just business.”

Sylus walks towards you this time.

“Business you couldn’t be fucked to include me in?”

You both wince at your harsh words. You because you’re normally never this openly hostile. With anyone. It’s bad for your line of work. And the only other people you’re normally around are the man you love and his chaotic children henchmen. You’ve no need to be so.. crass.

Sylus winces because… well, you don’t exactly know. His thread gives off some weird feelings you’d rather not dissect. You worry you’ll glimpse into his first meeting with his soulmate, and you’d rather hear about it that experience that yourself.

“There was no need.” Sylus is firm with his words, but his reluctance to make eye contact with you tells a different story. His guilt almost makes you think that he knows how you feel about him, and that he’s sorry for what he’s doing to you.

Fat chance of that.

“Since when is there ever no need for my involvement? You literally drag me anywhere you possibly.”

“Because I fear you becoming a hermit otherwise.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. Stupid Sylus and his need to remind you of your early days working for him.

“Says the man who’s only other companion is his mechanical crow.”

“You don’t say? You know, Gamayun, I’ve seen the way you rant to Mephisto sometimes after certain deals. You’re not too far off to becoming like me.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Even if I, perchance, do, it’s only because of you. And those “deals” you mention are the ones where you don’t give me much to work on. Like now.”

You two are back to square one. The light-hearted atmosphere is sucked dry in that moment. It’s been replaced by a weight, a fog, of uncertainty and worry. It takes you back to before you meant Sylus, all the way to high school, when something similar happened between you and the first person you fell for.

Those memories eat away at you. Strands upon strands of memories that twine with your nerves to create discomfort in every cell in your body. You only speak in hopes it would rid you of such pain.

“Why can’t you just explain yourself to me like a normal person?”

“Because you have no need to get involved.”

“Morana,” you try using his own tactics against him. “Please just tell me.”

You walk to him this time and cup his cheek with one hand. Sylus leans into the touch, basically nuzzling your hand. You love doing this to him. You love doing this with him. And you’re probably only doing this with him in this moment because you both know somewhere in your hearts you won’t be able to in the future. You doubt his soulmate will appreciate having another woman that loves him touching him like this.

So you’ll savor it.

“What’s the benefit of hiding such a thing from me, your partner?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with useless things.”

“So useless you’ll bring the twins?”

“They were just there for some fun.”

“Fun which you excluded me from? How rude.”

Sylus winces at your dry tone, knowing there was more to the story. Ever since he met you, he knew you had problems feeling left behind or excluded. You always felt like an outsider anywhere you went due to your powers. It got even worse once you realized you had no soulmate.

My relationship to them isn’t your problem.

So many times has those words been uttered to you. So many times have people spat them at you before they walked out your life for good, too in love to notice your broken heart. You wonder if this conversation with Sylus is the beginning of history repeating itself. If right now, the thread of your relationship is unraveling while his new one weaves together.

“Rude? Maybe. But necessary.”

“Why ever would you think that? You need to give me a valid reason.”

“You were sleeping in my arms so peacefully I couldn’t bear to wake you.”

“I said a valid reason, Morana. Not your usual nonsensical reasons.”

“It is a valid reason. I figured letting you sleep would be my way of making it up to you for stressing you yesterday.”

“It doesn’t. Telling me the truth might.”

“You drive such a hard bargain. You do remember I’m your boss, not the other way around? You work for me, sweetheart.”

“I do. But I’m more akin to a partner rather than a subordinate, even if I call you boss. So I’m entitled to the truth about your plans for this new person in our lives. I need to be involved, Morana. Why can’t I?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to get you involved.”

Your thoughts stumble at that. You shrink back from Sylus, dropping your hand and bringing it close to your chest. His eyes widen. You see the panic in them. It’s satisfying, in a sick way.

“Gamayun, that’s not what I—“

You don’t want to hear his excuses.

“You need something from her.”

Something you know you can’t get from me and you know I would stop you from taking.

Moments like these make you wonder if he knows. If he knows how you love him. If he knows you can see the threads of fate. If he knows that you know he’s not your soulmate but hers. If he knows you’re doomed to be alone.

But then you tell that part of yourself to be quiet. Because thinking about the what ifs would only drive you crazy.

“I do. And I will get it from her.”

You hold back a cringe at that. Stupid Sylus. That was no foundation for a relationship of any kind, let alone a soulmate bond.

“Not after such a hostile introduction.”

“Hostile? Me? Whenever have you known meet to be hostile, Gamayun.”

“The day we met,” you make a list of tallies on your hand as you speak. “Last week with that one arms dealer. Last month with the numerous explosions. James.”

His face twists when you mention the man. You roll your eyes.

“You and I both know that I have the best chances of resolving this peacefully.”

“Resolving. Gamayun, I haven’t done anything that needs resolving,” he smirks. “Not yet anyway. I’ll call upon your skills when they’re deemed necessary.”

It hurts a little to hear him say that, but you press on.

“Listen to me. The poor girl’s going through something; why else would an upstanding citizen of Linkon come here by choice? She’s in an unfamiliar environment. She’s been kidnapped twice. Once by you, and another by someone who, according Kieran, was going to kill her for what she had. And then you go and choke her until she fell unconscious. “

You caress his hair as you say this, leaning even closer despite your better judgement. His breath hitches and he gets closer as well.

“She’s not going to trust a word you say. And you and I both know the twins; negotiations and civil conversation isn’t their strong suit.”

The two of you laugh at this, and you vaguely wonder if this is how it feels to be a parent of insane teens. Because that’s what you think your life is sometimes.

“You’ve all made a bad impression on her. I haven’t. She’s in a sensitive spot, and I think the advice of someone with far more tact would do her good.”

“You got all that from just a glimpse? You’re better than even I thought, my sweet Gamayun.”

“Like I said before, being sweet won’t get you anywhere.”

You giggle when Sylus uses his Evol to mess with your hair. His hands hover around your waist.

“Just let me be the contact with her, alright? My relationship to her is far better than yours despite never truly meeting her. Whatever there is between you and her will be dwarfed by her grief.”

Guilt twists in your gut at that lie. Their relationship will never equal any relationship you have to either of them. But that bond doesn’t exist yet. So you’ll cling to those false words and hope they get you through this storm.

You think you have him. You think you’re about to get your answers. Instead, Sylus breaks your heart again. Except this time, it’s in a way you thought he never could.

“My relationship to her isn’t your problem.”

And just like that, you’re 16 years old again with your best friends. And then 12 with your friend’s father’s “new friend”. And then 10 with your former friends turned bullies. And then 7 with your first ever close relationship. All the times when someone spouted those same words just before they abandoned you. Just before they broke your heart, threw it the trash, and went home happily to their soulmate.

You can barely hold it together. You briefly register pushing him away, hands shaking and adrenaline practically going to war on your system. It’s different from the last time you pushed him away. So, so different. Your body betrays you in this moment. It’s on guard. It sees Sylus as a threat.

“Oh,” is all you muster.

You don’t need to see Sylus’ expression to know that your mask has slipped. All that practice acting and pretending means nothing now.

“I’ll just… I’ll just go. Yeah. I’ll just go.”

You think you hear Sylus protest. Or maybe you imagine it because you want him to chase after you unlike so many in the past didn’t. It doesn’t matter either way. You leave all the same. You leave and try to pick up the pieces of your heart while Miss Hunter slumbers away, oblivious to the plague of emotions her entire existence has brought you.

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @madam8, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano@toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

#sylus x reader #sylus fluff #sylus angst #sylus x non!mc reader #sylus x non mc reader #sylus qin x reader #sylus x mc #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #ikigai

1K notes · View notes

my-castles-crumbling · 3 months ago

Text

weight - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 297

“Moons, I have an important question.”

Remus looked up from his book, only half paying attention. Because, since getting together a month ago, Sirius asked ‘important questions’ a lot. Some of them included, but were certainly not limited to:

Would you love me if I were a worm?

Would you love me if I turned into a dog and ate all of your homework?

Would you love me if I lost all my teeth?

Would you love me if I was bald?

And, Remus’s personal favorite, and the one that confused him the most, would you love me if I was never born?

Of course, Remus answered yes to all of these, because he’d known Sirius for almost five years, so he knew how to placate him.

So he expected this question to be the same.

“Would you still love me if I dressed like a girl sometimes?”

But now, Remus gave his boyfriend his full attention, because the question seemed to hold more weight.

“Of course I would, baby,” he replied earnestly, looking over and meeting Sirius’s eyes. “Do you…really think I wouldn’t?”

“Dunno,” Sirius mumbled, playing with a loose thread in his blanket. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

Remus chuckled and moved to sit next to him, grabbing his hand. “I think you’re weird. But however you want to dress, I’ll always think you’re stunning. And I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

Gray, tear-filled eyes finally met his own, and Remus momentarily was breathless. “I’m still a boy,” Sirius murmured.

“Even if you weren’t,” Remus swore, “I love you for you.”

At this, Sirius smiled a bit. “What if I were a snail?”

Remus froze and let out a long-suffering sigh, then grabbed a nearby pillow and hit Sirius over the head with it.

1K notes · View notes

bitters-n-sweets · 1 month ago

Text

coffee tables pt. 2 — jack abbot x fem!reader Jack visits his ex-girlfriend’s apartment to help build a coffee table, but as old memories resurface and quiet confessions are shared, the day slowly turns into a chance to begin again.

warnings: flashback to the past, nothing 18+

part one || masterlist

Jack stands in front of your apartment door, toolbox in hand, trying to calm the nerves he thought he'd buried months ago. It's Saturday—his day off—and he decides to spend it building a coffee table with you. Somehow, it feels more intimate than it should.

You've been texting all week, your messages short and sometimes teasing, but always warm. He takes a breath, finally lifts his hand, and almost knocks, but you open the door first.

You've been waiting for him behind the door, watching him. "Were you gonna knock or just keep standing there like a creep?" you tease, not realizing the irony.

Jack exhales a nervous breath and cracks a small smile. "Sorry. Was deciding between knocking or faking a maintenance request."

You step aside so he can come in. "Well, you’ve got the toolkit. Might as well earn your keep."

The apartment smells just like he remembers it, he looks around to reminisce for a bit before spotting the half-assembled coffee table still sprawled across the living room floor.

"I figured I’d finish what you started," Jack says, lifting the toolbox.

"Before it finishes me off?" you joke.

"It almost did," he reminds you that the piece of glass almost cut your femoral artery, "Are you recovering okay?"

"Yeah, I can walk without much pain now. The meds help."

He nods, "That's good. I can take a look for you later."

"Okay, yeah, sure." You don't protest.

The mood is awkward at first. Small talk. Dry jokes. "Tool sizes". But it doesn’t take long before you warm up to each other. He fits a bolt in place while you read the instructions upside down, the rhythm of your banter slowly syncing. You snort when he grunts at the wrong size screw, and he rolls his eyes when you say you should’ve just bought a pre-built one.

"Remember the bookshelf we built for your place?" you say at one point, legs tucked beneath you on the floor.

Jack pauses, head tilted. "The one that fell over after a week?"

"You insisted we didn’t need the wall bracket."

He laughs. "And you still let me build furniture."

"Touché."

"Alright so where does this screw go?" Jack holds up a singular screw that looks just like the other ten.

"Um... there?" You point to a threaded hole, squinting. "Oh wait, but it could also be the other one. Ugh, I don't know, they all have the same measurements."

Jack shrugs and screws it into one of the holes while muttering, mostly to himself, "That's right, it goes in the square hole..."

You freeze. "Was that—"

"Yes, yes it was," he replies without missing a beat.

"Who taught you??"

"Night shifts can get boring sometimes."

You laugh, the kind that escapes before you can think about it, and Jack glances at you with a smile that lingers just a second too long.

A few hours later, the coffee table is finally finished. It's off by maybe 1cm, but it'll do.

“We did it. Functional table. No injuries. Only minor emotional peril.” Jack says as he stretches his legs.

“Honestly, I’m—.”

“Hungry?”

You nod, "YES."

And he pulls out his phone. “Your usual order still the same?”

Your eyes flick to his. “You remember?”

Jack only smiles and places the order.

You try to hide your smile and stand up. "I'm opening a bottle of wine. We're celebrating this."

"You're on meds."

"And you are on your day off." You smile at him, pouring two glasses. "I'll just have one." You try to convince him while he rolls his eyes.

There is no going between you and your wine.

"Mind if I use the bathroom?"

"You already know where it is."

As he steps into the hallway, he sees one photo still hanging on your wall. Cracked glass. Your arms wrapped around each other, blurry with motion but full of joy. The memory slams into him.

It’s late, and your apartment feels too small for the fight you’re having. "You’re always at the hospital," you say, voice shaking. "Even when you don’t have to be." "It’s not that simple," Jack snaps. "People rely on me." "And I don’t?" He turns too fast. His elbow knocks the picture frame off the wall. It crashes to the floor, splintering the glass. You both freeze. Something in him falters. He picks up the frame and sets it on the counter. "I can’t do this," he mutters before walking out.

Jack stares at the cracked photo now, throat tight. You wander over to where Jack is, and realize what he's looking at.

"You still have it." He states.

"I thought about throwing it away," you reply. "But I couldn't."

"I kept some things too," Jack says, but he doesn’t elaborate. Not yet.

You fall into silence, but it’s warmer this time. He reaches for your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. You let him.

"You know," you dare yourself to say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I used to sit in this apartment and think… maybe he’ll show up. Say he’s sorry. Say he wants to try again."

"I’m here now," Jack says. "And I am sorry. And I—"

There’s a knock at the door. The food delivery.

Dinner is quiet, softer. You split the last of the wine, and you laugh at his terrible jokes. When the bottle’s empty and the plates are cleared, you stay sitting on the floor, closer than before. Hands almost touching.

Both wanting to pick up where the serious conversation last ended, but also fearing where it might lead.

Jack reaches for his glass of wine and pauses. "You remember the night the power went out?"

You blink. "The storm?"

He nods. "We were stuck here. Couldn’t even order food because your phone died and mine barely had signal."

"We lit every candle in the apartment. I think I still have wax stains on that old bookshelf." You smile at the memory. "That was probably a fire hazard."

Jack chuckles. "And you made us play that ridiculous card game. Loser had to answer a personal question."

"I was trying to get to know you better," you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "You’re not exactly an open book."

He shakes his head with a faint smile, one of those rare ones that tug more at memory than amusement. “Still not, I guess.”

“I asked you your fears,” you continue, voice softer now. “You told me you wanted to be a good man. That night. You said you didn’t know if you were, but you wanted to try.”

Jack’s smile fades—not from regret, but more longing. "Yeah. I remember. I was scared I'd let you down."

"You did."

He looks down, his fingers absently brushing a speck of dust from the table’s edge. But then you add, just as gently:

"But you're here now."

He looks up. Meets your eyes. There’s something unspoken hanging between you—pain, promises that shattered and ones still waiting to be made.

And that silence, again—this time warm, thick, forgiving.

He swallows, as if laying his heart bare, and asks, “Can you give me another chance?”

Your fingers find his, and you squeeze, quietly telling him yes.

He looks at you with that softness in his eyes, the one that makes your chest ache. His hand rises gently to your cheek, and your breath catches.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, voice almost shaking.

“I missed you too.”

And then, finally, he leans in.

So do you.

The kiss is careful at first—like testing the coffee table you just built. But when your hand slips to his chest and his thumb grazes your jaw, it deepens into something more certain. Something lived-in and familiar, and still electric.

It’s not just a kiss.

It’s a promise.

#jack abbot #dr abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #female reader #jack abbot the pitt #the pitt #jack abbot fluff #jack abbot angst #angst with happy ending

714 notes · View notes

awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

Text

poker night — fushiguro toji x reader

warnings: unprotected sex. implied age gap. pet names (pretty girl/baby/sweet heart). "daddy". creampie. sub par writing.

mdni.

toji shows up early to poker night, an event your father hosts once every week, when he hears you're home after graduating from university.

he's exceptionally pleased when you answer the door in nothing more than a thin tank top and tiny pajama shorts, inviting him inside even though your father isn't home yet.

he makes himself comfortable on your living room couch, his broad frame and long legs taking up an impressive amount of space.

"so, you find yourself a boyfriend yet, pretty girl?"

your cheeks grow warm and you struggle to meet his eye. you've had a crush on toji for as long as you can remember, but he would never actually be interested in you... right?

"not yet," you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously. "most of the boys at school seem a little clueless when it comes to girls."

"that so?" he questions, eyes unabashedly trailing over your body. "maybe you should find yourself a man instead."

you're ashamed how quickly you wind up on your back, toji's cock greedily stretching out your pussy. really, it's almost pathetic— he didn't even have to work for it.

"f-feels s'good, daddy," you whimper, your hand clutching his bicep.

"oh, that's just wrong sweetheart," he chuckles, gripping your hips so harshly you're positive he'll leave marks. "you wan' me to be your daddy? hm?"

it is wrong. it's wrong and it's unforgivable and he loves it. why else would he be fucking you on the very same table he'll be sitting at tonight, playing poker with your father and their friends?

you nod weakly and his lips twist into a sly smirk.

lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, he uses the opportunity to land a smack to your ass. "words, baby."

"yes, ple—" you gasp sharply when he readjusts his angle, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing steady circles there.

"what was that? couldn't hear you."

"yes, toji! wanna be yours. please."

you don't have to ask him twice, not when your pretty little pussy is the best he's ever had. no one else even comes close.

his fingers thread through yours, an uncharacteristically soft gesture. "you are, sweetheart. all mine."

he feels you clench around him in response, and the sensation pulls an absolutely sinful noise from his throat.

you're so painfully close to your release that your eyes grow teary and your head lolls to the side.

"tch, i don't think so sweet girl," he chides, grabbing your chin roughly and turning your gaze back to him. "wanna see that pretty face while i fuck you."

you cum on his cock four times before he's decided you've had enough. he makes you beg him to fill you up, even though there's nothing he wants more than to see his cum spill from your cute little hole.

the two of you fall into a simple routine after that afternoon and for three whole months, no one has any idea that you spend most of your nights wrapped around toji's cock.

that is, until you interrupt poker night when the men sitting around the table have all had one too many drinks.

"hey, daddy?" you question, planning to ask your father if he knows where your mother is.

but before he has a chance to reply, toji speaks up. "yes, baby?"

#brrrrrrrrrr #been thinking about this for a while #m!writes!smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #toji imagines #toji fushiguro imagines

3K notes · View notes

megumimania · 3 months ago

Text

saw this thread of people showing off their engagement rings and thought this is so s6-7!spencer x fiancée!reader coded.

“good morning, everybody!” you chirped, rolling in with pastries and some fresh coffee for the team.

your unusual enthusiasm on a monday morning was met with looks of suspicion from the team. the unexpected coffee run that you were known to hate did nothing but further their suspicions.

“so i’m guessing valentines went really well for you, huh?” derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you. the implication making your skin run hot.

“if i have to sit through another hr seminar on appropriate discussions in the workplace, it’s all your fault.” you swatted his shoulder playfully (purposefully), laughing as he jerked back and soothed his achy shoulder. “this is your first strike morgan.”

“ouch! did pretty boy get you brass knuckles for valentines or something?” he momentarily frowned rubbing his now sore arm. his eyes lit up as he realised the rock that was sitting on your finger.

“well i’ll be damned, that is a rock.” he whistled lowly, taking your hand as he moved it closer to the light, to inspect it even more closely. emily, jj and penelope walked over to you and derek, intrigued by the shiny new thing on your finger.

“what are you guys doing—ooh!” penelope marvelled at the ring much to a disgruntled derek, who couldn’t believe spencer was going to get married before he did.

“oh it’s even more gorgeous in person, damn those crappy pixels.” she grumbled, as she moved your hand so the diamonds would glitter under the desk lights. It was an intricate design that had your birthstone adorned on it.

the girls shared the same level of enthusiasm and excitement as you did. with jj and emily asking for a play by play of how the proposal went down, from the restaurant to the date and finally to when spencer finally proposed.

“it looks like spencer is quite the romantic.” emily commented, seemingly surprised and happy for you both.

love wasn’t something all agents could afford to have—especially in their line of work. so the fact the two of her favourite people were getting married in spite of the odds made her happy.

“okay proposal talk aside, who is gonna be the maid of honor? who’s gonna be your bridesmaids? are you planning to hyphenate or are you gonna take the plunge and go all the way?” penelope asked, already thinking about the logistics of it all that made you chuckle.

the thought of it all was overwhelming, all of the eventual planning and budgeting you were going to have to do was threatening to crash the excitement of your wedding. it was jj’s calming voice that calmed the barrage of thoughts that were running through your head.

“pen, she just said yes to the man like four days ago.”jj giggled at her friends eagerness. “i’m sure they’ll iron out the details later.” she replied, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder which you were thankful for.

in the midst of the congratulations you were receiving from your fellow colleagues and associates alongside the pre wedding buzz, everyone failed to noticed to spencer walk in.

it wasn’t until morgan caught the familiar mop of brown hair was when he called out to him. “hey, pretty boy! why didn’t you say that you and bau barbie over here got engaged?”

you rolled your eyes at his nickname for you. it was born from your affinity to wear an assortment of stylishly impractical outfits that always made it past fbi standards because you always somehow made it functional for use. like the time you chased an unsub down in a park wearing designer jeans.

spencer sheepishly rubbed his neck that flushed a shade of light pink as the attention was now on him. “i thought the picture on her instagram story was already a dead giveaway.” he shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets.

the post couldn’t have been more obvious if you had tried. the shot of you posed up on the couch with your hand resting on your head as if you were nursing a mean headache, with the ring almost demanding to be the centre of attention. you and spencer agreed it was a pretty funny take on the traditional engagement announcements.

“oh, so you were letting the ring do all the talking. smart.” morgan nudged you playfully, before he turned to join the others who were busy fawning over pictures of henry that jj was showing them all.

spencer thought this would be the right time to steal a quick kiss from you. he wasn’t a fan of pda and preferred his quite intimate moments with you away from prying eyes.

he barely managed to press a swift kiss before morgan teased him, “hey loverboy! you better save that for the wedding night.” he said a bit too loudly as half of the office turned to the source of the noise. if there was anything spencer hated being the topic of bureau gossip, but that was less than his hatred for meaningless small talk.

he sighed knowing that he’d be subjected to hearing ‘congratulations’ or knowing glances all day or maybe week—depending if anything else more interesting happened like the one time there was a interdepartmental affair between the cybercrime and the counterterrorism unit.

morgan chuckled watching spencer’s face flush a light pink in response to getting caught. yeah it looked like the prank war treaty and truce that garcia made them both sign and agree to in her signature glittery pen, after she accidentally got flour-bombed in the midst of their prank war was about to be over with.

you just hoped that you’d be kept out of the crossfire this time and that they’d manage to pack it in before your upcoming wedding.

#vina writes: cm #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x black!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #this was sitting in the drafts for teww long #l

938 notes · View notes

theeartuaist · 2 months ago

Text

The App

It started with the app.

You never downloaded it. You never saw it download. It just appeared on your phone one grey Tuesday afternoon nestled between your weather app and your calendar like it had always belonged there. It wasn't sleek or modern but oddly anachronistic, with an interface that reminded you of Windows 95 and an icon that seemed to shift slightly when you weren't looking directly at it.

"TrueMate" it was called, in soft pink font, glowing gently, innocuous. You told yourself it must’ve come from an ad you accidentally clicked. Maybe during that 3 a.m. scroll through horror subreddits or that article on cursed love letters.

You should have deleted it immediately. Instead, you shrugged. Curiosity is always the first thread pulled. You opened it. You swiped once and that was all it took.

"Match found," the screen declared without requiring a profile, photo, or even your name.

Just one match: Raye.

Just Raye, no last name, new to the area. Picture: pale skin, high cheekbones, lips too red, eyes too dark. His profile picture had an uncanny quality to it, as if several photographs had been mercilessly stitched together by an algorithm with unusual ideas about human faces.

Then, a message pinged from Raye:

Hello. I would like to meet you.

Yoy should have closed the app. Instead, you found yourself typing back:

That's a bit forward. You don't even know me.

I know you are the one I want to meet. Tomorrow? Coffee? I have researched the proper courtship ritual. I will arrive with flowers. You will be impressed.

The oddness of his phrasing made you smile. A foreigner, perhaps, or someone on the spectrum with an endearing directness?

He picked the café. It was one of those cosy tucked-away places with mismatched mugs and a chalkboard menu filled with ironic puns.

Raye greeted you the next day. You weren’t catfished at least - he was tall and almost aggressively ordinary, with a face you'd forget while still looking at it. His suit was impeccable but somehow wrong—like it had been chosen by carefully studying magazine ads without understanding context. He clutched a bouquet of flowers that still had the price tag attached.

"These are for you," he announced at a volume slightly too loud for the quiet café. "I have purchased the traditional courtship flora."

You accepted them with murmured thanks, noticing how his fingers seemed to bend at odd angles when he released the stems.

"I have secured beverages and circular sweet bread items. Please sit so we may progress to the next stage," he said, watching you with unblinking eyes.

You chatted. It was normal. Almost. Raye had opinions about everything that seemed quoted directly from somewhere else—movie reviews, political commentaries, song lyrics—all delivered with the same intense sincerity. He laughed exactly three seconds after you made jokes, his head tilting at precisely the same angle each time. When he reached for his coffee, his movements were fluid but somehow rehearsed, as if he'd practised in front of a mirror.

"Your species fascinates me," he said after you mentioned your job.

"My species of [your job]?" You replied with a laugh.

"Yes. That." He leaned forward suddenly. "I have observed that after the initial meeting comes the small talk, then the revealing of childhood traumas, then the physical connection. We have completed two stages. Tell me about your childhood disappointments."

Something in his expression made you change the subject to movies instead. His knowledge was encyclopedic yet strangely hollow, as if he'd memorized IMDB entries without watching the films.

"You enjoy stories where humans overcome obstacles and form mating bonds," he observed.

"That's one way to describe romantic comedies, I suppose."

His eyes seemed to recalculate something. "Yes. Human romantic comedies. I enjoy them as well, as a human."

The conversation continued like that for an hour—moments of almost-normality interrupted by statements just odd enough to make you wonder if you was being pranked. But there was something compelling about Raye's attention, the way he absorbed your words as if they were precious.

You were halfway through your drink when, with the abruptness of someone following a script to the letter, he placed his hand on yours and said:

"Let's get married."

You choked. Tea went up your nose. “Sorry, what!?” you said, coughing and wiping your mouth.

Confusion flickered across his face, and his eyes had gone completely flat. "What do you mean? I'm not a stranger anymore," he said, his voice modulating into something softer. "I'm your fiancé. I just proposed."

The café seemed to grow quieter, the background noise fading. You pulse quickened as you pulled your hand away.

"There must be some misunderstanding - that's not how anything works - this is our first date. We literally met like an hour ago. People date for months, years even, before getting engaged."

"Incorrect," Raye replied, producing a small notebook from his pocket. He flipped through pages filled with what looked like screenshots. "In 'The Proposal,' Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds become engaged after knowing each other for 3 years, 2 months as work colleagues. But in 'Leap Year,' Amy Adams decides to propose after 4 years of dating. In 'Sweet Home Alabama,' they were married in childhood. And in 'The Bachelor,' multiple women compete for one marriage proposal in a matter of weeks." He looked up triumphantly. "The data is inconsistent. I have chosen the most efficient option."

Something cold slithered down your spine. "Are you... quoting movies to me?"

"I have conducted extensive research on human mating rituals," he said, tilting his head at that familiar angle. "I have watched 247 romantic comedies, 183 dramas involving romance, and 62 reality television shows about finding mates. I have identified the pattern. First meeting, then coffee, then proposal. We are proceeding correctly."

"That's not real life. Those are stories, fantasies."

His expression shifted again, this time to something you couldn't quite place—disappointment mixed with the concentration of someone recalibrating complex calculations.

"I see. I have misunderstood." He blinked rapidly. "Then we must proceed to the next step where one of us runs through an airport to prevent the other from leaving, or perhaps stands outside with a music-playing device held overhead, or perhaps, we should wait for it to rain and exchange a kiss-”

That's when you noticed his reflection in the window behind him—or rather, the place where his reflection should have been. Instead, there was a shimmer in the air, vaguely human-shaped but rippling like heat waves off summer asphalt.

"What are you?" You whispered.

"I am Raye," he said with a smile that showed too many teeth. "I selected this name because it contains 50% of the same letters as 'mate.' I have been studying humans for what you would measure as 3.2 Earth years. You are the first specimen I have selected for my personal research."

He reached across the table again, his fingers elongating slightly as they approached yours. "The app was merely a formality. I have been observing you for 76 days. You are perfectly ordinary, which makes you extraordinarily perfect."

You stood up so quickly your chair clattered to the floor. "I need to go."

"Are you…rejecting me?” He tilted his head, frowning. "I have proposed marriage. You are supposed to say yes after initial reluctance. That is how the story proceeds."

"This isn't a movie, Raye."

"No," he agreed, "Movies end. What I propose is much more permanent."

As you backed away, heading for the door, Raye remained seated, watching you with those unblinking eyes. Just before you reached the exit, your phone chimed with a notification.

A new message in the app that shouldn't exist: The courtship ritual is not complete. We will try again with the correct sequence. I have much to learn, and you are the perfect teacher.

You deleted the app the moment you got home. It reappeared the next morning—nestled between weather and calendar, as if it had always belonged there. Because of course it did!

(Because for some beings, a story doesn't end until they understand the proper way to tell it. And Raye seemed determined to get this story right. However, many revisions it might take.)

next chapter

#yandere #my writing #writeblr #fantasy #male yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere alien #dark humor

497 notes · View notes

fightingthetides · 19 days ago

Text

[水]

Mizumachi could only laugh in response, but it wasn’t something that he expected many people to know about. American football wasn’t all that popular in comparison to other sports like soccer, tennis, or basketball.

“I don’t know too much about otaku stuff, so we both are an expert in something the other doesn’t know!”

Given his… intelligence stat, Vivian definitely excelled in more things over him, but that wasn’t important! Something he could gloss over!

“Yeah? Intense?”

He wondered what that could possibly mean, to be intense. Going back to her comment about otaku culture, he did know a little bit from talking to some of his buds in class. What was it again…?

“A yandere or somethin’? They’re pretty intense, right?”

Don’t they go all psycho-killer on people in the name of love or something? The guys seemed to like it because they found it exciting or whatever. A ‘dangerous love’ or whatever, but Mizumachi was sure that was just fantasy talking, because they probably wouldn’t like that in real life.

“What is a normal amount, anyways? Is there a standard?”

Being unable to love someone a normal amount either meant she loved too much, or she loved people not enough. Both could work depending on the person that they were with, but as with every relationship it took compromise and practice. As they say, there is plenty of fish in the sea! The important part was finding the fish that was compatible with you, and that was the hardest part.

“I bet you could find someone who would be fine with it. I haven’t dated much, cuz I’ve always been busy with sports and stuff. Haha! Career over guys, right?”

Guess the quiz was right, after all! The girls in school loved dating a jock for something like social cred, but then a lot of them couldn’t accept a boyfriend who spent a lot of time with so many sweaty guys, practicing for hours on end on a sport that they didn’t care for. It was kinda rare to find a girlfriend who was fully supportive and would be understanding.

“I dunno, I guess I just gotta find someone who would be okay with me liking American football so much.”

Surely, someone out there exists… or maybe he has to be really good at the sport and make a lot of money before he finds someone? Damn… that’s kinda sad if you think of it that way.

"Indeed they do!" she easily concedes. "Don't expect me to name any professional football player off the top of my head, though; after all, my area of expertise is more so centred around things related to otaku culture." Why, compared to Mizumachi at least, her knowledge on sports and football wasn't exactly the greatest, so for as slow on the uptake as he was, she doesn't doubt he knows more than her.

The moment he asks about what she thinks her own personal red flag was, however, Vivian's quick to let out a pensive hum before clasping both hands against her cheeks. "Hm... probably that I'm kinda too intense?" came her eventual guess. because when it came down to it, she definitely thinks her lack of neurotypical behaviour and extroversion probably drives a lot of people away from her. That, and during the rare, infrequent instance she finds herself actually catching feelings for someone, she'll end up developing a strong, unhealthy attachment towards them before subsequently ghosting them when she learns the feelings itself were less than platonic.

"Like, I'm unable to L-word... er, that is to say, love someone a normal amount," Vivian then adds for further clarification. Of course, how she very much reacts during relationships would ultimately depend on the gender pertaining to whoever she is with... but considering she was more attracted to men than women or those that couldn't be classified as either, she didn't exactly enjoy thinking about herself in real life scenarios where she would be dating someone non-fictional, since when it came down to it, reality proved disappointing.

To that end, even if someone happened to miraculously return her feelings, sex would be something that had to be navigated at some point... which stressed her out beyond belief, because what were even the chances someone she was interested in also happened to have a degradation and humiliation kink? Furthermore, her desire to be fucked by men wouldn't just go away the moment she entered a monogamous relationship with another woman, so her own love life was not something she really enjoyed thinking about when chances were high the sex wouldn't be as good compared to fanfiction.

#Unladielike #(Vivian04)#RPans #((Muse; Vivian))#((Oh wao really? That’s pretty insane to me but to each their own ig))#((I personally like them so it’s wild to me that some people don’t but I respect it all the same))#((Of course people are allowed to indulge in whatever content they want but if I see that in rules I aint following))#((It just makes me feel too constricted and I like having the freedom and more often than not they’re usually only into shipping))#((I don’t want to feel like I’m only going to be ship fodder for someone if that makes sense))#((I totally get you though. Sadly some muses are just hard to work with and can be boring regardless lol))#((some of my muses are so quiet and antisocial it’s like Plz… PLZ TALK. SAY SMTH!))#((My muses say no and then the thread dies real quick asdlkajlfajfk))#((The worst I’ve ever gotten is the ‘yes’ reply. I mean it literally))#((They just had their muse respond with yes and that was the end of it. I was going NUTS))#((That's why it's a rule on a lot of my blogs. Give me more than 3 words in a reply. Bare minimum.))

11 notes · View notes

st7rnioioss · 4 months ago

Note

Was skater!chris the one to take shy!readers virginity? and if so how was the experience?

SKATER!CHRIS AND GIRLY!READERS FIRST TIME

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... skater!chris x girly!reader

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... skater!chris and girly!readr both lose their virginity, and this is how it went!!

warnings... smut, protected sex, kissing, swearing, loss of virginity (m and f)

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the room was quiet and filled with an indescribable tension, your fingers carefully looming over chris’s bare chest, as if you had never touched him like that before. your head rested against the pillow behind your head, chris’s body resting between your legs with both hands on either side of your head.

he was close, really close. your breaths interlaced, heavy and hot with need. you two usually never went here—both virgins. but you knew you wanted it, and so did he. it happened naturally too, starting out as a slow kiss, and before either of you knew it, you were both shirtless.

his eyes had been staring into yours for far too long, but neither of you cared, too lost in each other. “do.. do you really want to?” you mumbled when one of his hands ran down the side of your face, eventually toying with the strap of your bra.

chris nodded slowly, pursing his lips for a moment. “yeah. i’m ready.. are you?” he whispered back, his tone soft and honey-like, driving you crazy. you nodded as a reply, and he nearly didn’t even get to smile at you before his lips attached to your neck, leaving a gentle kiss.

“we’ll take it slow, dollface.. right?” his breath fanned over your skin, and again, all you could do was nod and let out a soft ‘yes’. his arms wrapped around you to pull you closer, trapping you between his chest and the mattress underneath the two of you, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra while nibbling on your neck.

“wha- what the fuck,” he chuckled when he couldn’t get it open, his head dipping up from your neck to let go of you, looking down at you with a shy smile. confused, you laughed along with him, furrowing your brows. “w-what’s wrong?” he laughed again, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “can you take that off..? you’ve got like.. a fuckin’ rubik’s cube or somethin’ back there,” he nervously said, pointing at your chest.

you tried, but failed, to hold back a giggle, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer, kissing as his face. “hey, don’t worry. i can hardly get it off myself..” you smiled, one hand reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. “wanna do the honors?” chris nearly beamed when you asked, carefully running his fingers up your arms before reaching for the straps, bringing them down your shoulders.

the same silence as earlier fell between you, your chest now exposed and bare, just like his. chris’s eyes roamed over you, throwing your bra somewhere amongst the rest of the clothes lying in a pile on the floor, his eyes respectfully trying not to stare too much. “y-you’re really beautiful,” he spoke nervously, his fingers roaming over your torso carefully. you didn’t say anything, your face just turned an obvious shade of red before you pulled him closer to you, his lips attacking your collarbone.

“thank you,” you spoke up when he was out of sight, threading your digits through his hair while his teeth and lips dragged over your soft skin. his mouth still on your skin, his fingers reached for your panties. “is this.. is this okay, doll?” his words were muffled, but you paid no mind to it.

“yea. k-keep going..” you whined, pleasure coursing through you when his soft and gentle lips sucked marks into your neck, along with his fingers dragging down the damp fabric of your panties.

you gasped as you laid bare on chris’s bed, arms around his neck while he kissed the life out of you. “ch-chris, i need you..” a pathetic whimper tugged on your lips when his hardening bulge brushed against your core, the friction just not enough. he nodded slowly, letting his glistening lips slip from your chest. “o-okay.. just- tell me if we gotta slow it down a bit, angel.” he smiled softly and comforting, letting his hands go of you to tug his sweatpants down.

your eyes intently watched as his boxers went down too, flickering back to his face when already leaking cock was right in front of you. “o-oh my god,” your breathed, too shy and honestly scared to look at him, just the idea of having that inside of you making your skin crawl with both desire and anxiety. chris took notice, immediately grabbing your hands. “hey, wait- it’s okay.. w-we don’t have to go.. like, you know.. all the way in.” his gently cooed, brushing his knuckles over your cheek while your wide eyes stared up at his. “it’ll be okay.. as long as you’re ready. j-just uhh… i forgot where i put the condoms, wait a minute i’ll find them-“.

his words seemed to calm you down a whole lot, because suddenly a couple minutes passed, and the stretch of his cock was stroking just the right spots inside of you with every deep thrust, his fingers squeezing the sheets up in his fist. “h-hoooly shit.. y-you take me so good, you’re so beautiful,” you whined at his words, desperately holding onto his shoulders for a sense of support as all your self respect went right out the window. you wanted, no you needed more, carving your fingernails into his skin.

“please, oh my god! i- i need more, please christopher,” your nails ran down his back, scratching red trail marks down his ‘in utero’ tattoo. chris groaned loudly when you moaned for him to give you more, his inexperience making his head stir for a second before jerking his hips a little harder and faster.

“is t-this good? m’sorry i can’t, i can’t hold on for much longer, angel-“ he whimpered, trying his best to keep up, but he failed from how each push of his hips was sloppier than the last. “it’s okay- don’t worry, it- oh gosh, right there!” chris nearly couldn’t believe his ears from just how vocal and loud you were being, much a contrast to your usual timid and shy self—not that he was complaining. quickly, his slender fingers moved to experimentally rub circles on your swollen clit, your chest arching up into his at the touch all while he kept the pace you seemed to like.

both your bodies were sweaty and warm, prickling with need and electricity as you moved against each other. his fingers on your clit seemed to make you snap, nearly drawing blood on his back from just how hard you were holding onto him. “j-jesus christ, i’m gonna cum chris- oh!” a few thrusts later you were a mess, squeezing around his dick when the band in your tummy snapped, his own orgasm conveniently hitting him at the same time.

chris slumped against you, his arms going to wrap around your body while his head went to rest on your heaving chest. “that… definitely wasn’t too bad.. at all.” you panted, shaking your head with a light chuckle when he spoke. “no.. it’s was okay.”

chris raised a brow at you, his head lifting to look at you, his expression teasing but perplexed. “just okay? what happened to ‘oh my god, right there! christopher!’ well just forget about that or..?” he mocked you, but not in a hurtful way. one that made your stomach hurt from laughing, face turning beet red in embarrassment while you giggled between your words. “oh my god, would you shut up!”

more skater!chris x girly!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... to that one anon who said that theyre soo innocent but lowkey freaky too.. i thought of you. anyway, this shit is lowkey aaasss i'm sorry

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

#🐇་༘࿐ works #chris ₊˚⊹♡#⌗⋆. skater!chris x girly!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets imagines #sturniolo triplets fluff

490 notes · View notes

n0tamused · 4 months ago

Note

can I get prompts sentence fluff no. 21 with Anaxa,Sunday and phainon (if not wrong your limit characters is 3 right?)

Fem reader is the one who ask "can I kiss you" and then the male characters Will be the one who reply It

˖ ࣪⊹Memory of the kiss

21."Can I kiss you?" "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you ask that."

Contents: Anaxa x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Phainon x Reader, written with a fem reader in mind although gender is not explicitly stated anywhere, fluff, I got another request for the same three with the prompt "first kiss" so I sort of mixed those two prompts together here

Words: 330(Anaxa), 486(Sunday),295(Phainon)

Ko-Fi | 1.5K followers event

˖ ࣪⊹Anaxa

The question did not startle him or shock him as much as you expected, in fact he barely reacted at all as his gaze fixed itself onto yours, an invisible thread tying the both of you together. For a moment, Anaxa believes your hearts shared a beat, one or two, but for once he is speechless, letting the pregnant and wordless pause stretch on. He is looking at you with this glint in his eyes that is hard to escape, it is softening the lines of his face and making him seem younger than he is, soft in ways you dared not voice.

‘Can I kiss you?’ - it was such a simple question, too simple for him to ponder over it for this long, but he does. And when he notices the fleeing time he clears his throat and takes a breath, offering you a smile he seldom shared with any other person.

“Yes” he blurted out, shocking you with his boldness. “Now, don’t act so surprised, although I doubt my next confession will feel any less so to you.” He sighs, half in disbelief of his own feelings and the words his tongue was spouting, but Anaxa was nothing if not honest. “You would not be able to guess how long I have waited for you to ask..” he speaks softly to you now, his gaze only flickering to the side for a moment as you feel quiet in face of his honest display. Your mouth opened and closed, at a loss for words, before you took up the hints of a first blush wanting to creep up onto the scholar’s cheeks.

You giggle, and the sound seemingly makes him draw in on himself with a half frown and a furrow of his brows. But before he can banter and scold, you place your hand on his cheeks and lean in, slowly, your breath tickling his skin before your lips pressed together and the world fell quiet around you.

˖ ࣪⊹Sunday

“What seems to be troubling you? You said you had a question for me, did you not?” Sunday asked as he came to a stop before a shelf of books in a lonely corner of the Astral Express, his tone calm and warm but mingled with notes of curiosity for your avoidance of the topic you, yourself, wished to bring up.

You sighed, debating whether the moment was right, but tonight was so far away, and tomorrow was uncertain - there is no time like the present moment. Walking over to him you feigned interest in the messy pile of records that Sunday was busying himself with sorting out currently, but your heart was pounding in your throat and your focus was on him alone. After your fingers brushed against the old and yellowed paper you looked back at him, seeing him still waiting.

“May I kiss you, Sunday?” you finally ask, and if a person could be red and pale all at once, Sunday would be that person now. The wings on his head gave a little startle of their own, a quick flutter up and down as he digested your question.

Just as you were about to excuse yourself and save you both the trouble, he looked about the empty Express carriage, as if someone might see, before looking at you with a glimmer of expectancy and hope. It startled you with how clearly it showed.

“Is this what you meant to ask? This is not another one of your jests, is it?” Sunday inquired slowly, as if stepping around the crack of the frozen lake.

“This is no jest, I promise you. I would not have joked about a matter like this.. If you are-”

He raised his hand and your voice faded off. Sunday shook his head, fighting back the blush that was unavoidably crawling up his neck.

“No, no.. I accept it” he replied in a whisper, wishing no one else to hear the words but you, feeling like a follower making his confession at the cathedral. His blood was rushing, heart pounding in his ears, the sound and the feeling of ants in his clothes feeling worse the more he waited for his judgement. “I admit, I have waited for a long time for an opportunity like this to arise- for you to.. ask..” the more he talked, the more tremors he felt in his curled fingers.

“If you were anyone else, I’d say you were the one jesting now” you spoke in pleasant disbelief as you took another step closer, a motion at which he straightened his back for. Your hand touched his cheek and made him freeze, but once it began to guide him downward, he put up no resistance. Your lips graced his, and it was something sweeter than any honey, better than any redemption. His ears fluttered once more and stretched forward, covering his face and yours.

˖ ࣪⊹Phainon

Phainon took many things in stride, not being the one to outwardly follow the strict lines of a plan in his daily routines; it was one thing that made him feel grounded and, in a way, free of the worldly burdens, the looming shadow of the future of Amphoreus. The question with which you broke the silence among you was met with a sweet sound of his laughter. It was only natural, but also a way to cover up his surprise as the question repeated itself time and time again between his ears,

As you looked on at him, his face became more serious, his shoulders going tense. “You.. you are serious?” he balked, staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head. Your nod to his question clarified his thoughts, and suddenly everything felt like it was moving, including the ground beneath the soles of his boots. He did not look like was swaying, he wasn’t, he was a warrior of Okhema and has faced foes that would make someone’s nightmares, he did not fall then and will not fall now - but gods, would his knees willingly give out for you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to ask me that” he told you in a voice more timid than his usual persona, but all the more genuine for it. He didn’t move for a while, still stunned and in disbelief but once you took a step towards him, he met you halfway with a step of his own, raising a hand to your cheek that hesitated before pressing against your skin. Phainon lets you kiss him first, but one taste of your lips had him kissing back in search for more, wanting to commit the feeling to memory.

614 notes · View notes

inseobts · 5 months ago

Text

Threaded

trafalgar law x strawhat!reader

all you two do is bickering but maybe that just hide something else

a/n: this is one of the first I’ve written so I’m sorry if it’s not that good

tags: enemies to lovers?

word count: 1.6k

masterlist // ko-fi

The first time you met Trafalgar Law, you wanted to punch him.

You weren’t sure if it was the smug look on his face, the way he stood just a little too tall and confident, or how easily he’d dismissed you during a skirmish between the Heart Pirates and the Strawhats.

“Stay out of my way, Y/N-ya” he’d said coolly, not even sparing you a second glance as he used his Room ability to whisk his crew to safety.

Ever since then, your encounters with him had been a mix of competition and thinly veiled insults. You’d fought alongside and against him during chaotic battles, always at odds but somehow never truly harming each other.

And, annoyingly, the others loved to tease you about it.

“I think Law likes you” Nami said one night on the Sunny, smirking as you glared at her.

“Yeah, right” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “He’s just arrogant and annoying.”

“And yet, every time he shows up, you look very interested” Zoro teased, earning a laugh from the crew.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their laughter as you stared out at the sea. The truth was, Law was interesting. Infuriating, yes, but undeniably clever and powerful. And every time he faced you in battle, there was a flicker of respect in his eyes that made your heart skip—though you’d die before admitting it.

The next time you crossed paths, it was during an ambush on a Marine base. Both the Strawhats and the Heart Pirates had the same idea: raid the place for supplies and information.

“Of course you’re here” you muttered as Law appeared beside you in the chaos, his Room ability slicing through Marine reinforcements.

“Likewise” he replied, his tone flat.

You rolled your eyes, summoning your energy to blast a group of Marines into the wall.

“Try not to slow me down, Surgeon” you taunted.

Law smirked faintly, his sword flashing as he neutralized another group. “I should say the same to you.”

The two of you moved in sync, your powers complementing his precision as you cleared the room. By the time the dust settled, you were both panting, but victorious.

“You’re not as bad as I thought” you admitted grudgingly, glancing at him.

“Likewise” he said, his tone softer than before.

For a moment, the tension between you shifted into something else—something quieter, almost… tender. But before either of you could speak, a loud crash from outside reminded you that the crews were still fighting.

“Back to work” you said, brushing past him.

After the raid, you didn’t expect to see Law again so soon. But a week later, the Heart Pirates docked near the Sunny, ostensibly to exchange information about the Marines.

“Sure, information” Sanji said annoyed as you watched Law step aboard. “More like an excuse to see Y/N.”

“Shut up” you hissed, your cheeks heating as you crossed your arms.

Law ignored the whispers and teasing from both crews, his gaze sharp as he walked toward you.

“Y/N-ya. Where’s your captain?” he said simply.

“He’s resting” you answer with a cold tone, trying not to question why he asked you out of everyone.

He nods, holding out a piece of parchment.

You raised an eyebrow, taking it. “What’s this?”

“Details about a Marine operation near here,” he replied. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“Why are you helping us?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugged. “Your interference benefits me. Simple as that.”

But the faint smile tugging at his lips told a different story, and you couldn’t help but smirk in return.

“You’re lucky I don’t blast you off this ship” you teased, summoning a flicker of energy in your hand.

“And you’re lucky I don’t cut you in half” he replied, though there was no malice in his tone.

The crews watched the exchange with barely concealed glee, their whispers growing louder.

“They’re so into each other” Nami said, smirking at Robin.

“Think they know?” she asked.

“Not a chance” Nami replied, laughing softly.

Over the next few weeks, your encounters with Law became more frequent. You worked together to take down Marine operations, often bickering but always falling into a rhythm that felt almost natural.

And slowly, the tension between you began to shift.

It was during a quiet night on the Sunny, after a mission, that you finally confronted the elephant in the room.

“Why do you keep showing up?” you asked, finding him standing alone at the edge of the deck.

He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Maybe I enjoy the challenge.”

“Of working with me or putting up with me?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Both,” he admitted, a faint smirk on his lips.

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Wait, are you—”

“Don’t overthink it, Y/N-ya” he said, finally turning to face you. “But for what it’s worth… I don’t hate having you around.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep your expression neutral “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

The crews, who had been secretly watching from below deck, erupted into cheers and whistles, ruining the moment.

“JUST KISS ALREADY!” Luffy shouted, earning groans and laughter from everyone else.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “They’re never going to let us live this down, are they?”

“No” Law said, his smirk widening.

And as the chaos around you grew, you couldn’t help but laugh, realizing that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being stuck with him.

It happened during one of those rare, quiet nights when the sea was calm, and the crews were resting after yet another skirmish with the Marines. The Heart Pirates and the Strawhats had docked together on a small, remote island to regroup. The two crews were enjoying a bonfire, their laughter echoing through the night, but you found yourself wandering away from the group, your thoughts racing.

As much as you hated to admit it, Law had been on your mind far too often lately. His sharp wit, his calm demeanor, the way his gaze lingered on you during battles—it was maddening.

You sighed, sitting on a rock overlooking the ocean, when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Y/N-ya” Law’s voice called softly.

You didn’t turn around, but the corner of your lips twitched. “Stalking me now, Surgeon?”

“I could say the same about you, wandering off to brood” he replied, stepping beside you.

“Brooding is your thing” you shot back, finally glancing up at him.

He smirked faintly but said nothing, his silver eyes scanning the horizon. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the sound of the waves filling the air.

“You’ve been quiet tonight” he said finally, breaking the silence.

“Just thinking,” you admitted, resting your chin on your knees. “About… everything.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

You hesitated, debating whether to speak your mind. But something about the way he was looking at you—calm, patient, as if he already knew what you were going to say—made you want to be honest.

“About you” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

Law’s eyes widened slightly, the smallest crack in his usual composure. “What about me?”

“You’re infuriating,” you began, standing up and pacing in front of him. “You’re always so calm, so smug, like you know everything. And you drive me crazy because you do know everything half the time. And yet… you’re the one person I can’t stop thinking about.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you froze, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

Law was quiet for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he stood, stepping closer to you.

“You drive me crazy too, Y/N-ya,” he said, his voice low. “Your recklessness, your power… the way you always throw yourself into danger without thinking.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “That sounds more like an insult.”

“It’s not,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Because for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could reply, a loud crash sounded behind you.

“DAMN IT!”

You whipped around to see the Luffy fall from a nearby tree, covered in leaves, turning to the others who were poorly hidden.

“What the hell?!” you shouted, your face burning.

“We weren’t spying!” Usopp says as the rest of both crews scrambled to hide behind trees and rocks.

“Yeah, totally not spying!” Luffy shouted, laughing loudly.

“Let’s just leave them alone!” Nami groaned, smacking Luffy on the head as the crews retreated, their laughter fading into the distance.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I’m going to kill them.”

Law chuckled softly, his amusement breaking the tension. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”

When you looked up at him, his usual calm had returned, but his silver eyes held a warmth you’d never seen before.

“So… about what you said” you began awkwardly, your cheeks burning.

Law took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. “If you’re done yelling at the audience…”

You laughed nervously, but the sound faded as he leaned in, his expression serious.

“Can I?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips brushed yours. The kiss was soft, slow, and far gentler than you’d expected from someone like him.

When you pulled away, your power energy flickered around you, uncontrollable as your emotions surged.

“Sorry” you muttered, trying to rein it in.

Law smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It suits you.”

From the distance, you heard muffled cheers and groans, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“They’re never going to shut up about this” you said, shaking your head.

“Let them talk” Law replied, his voice calm but firm “I don’t care.”

And for the first time, neither did you.

965 notes · View notes

twlgholts · 1 month ago

Text

always kind of was, j. black

chapter four, manuals

— jacob black x f. reader

a/n: planned out the entire fic and am excited for the coming chapters!!

prev. series masterlist! next.

Summer stretched on like a golden thread. Slow, warm, and full of stolen moments.

That Friday, he showed up at your door with two milkshakes and a crease between his brows. That one was on you. Texting Help me and Come now probably made it sound more life-threatening than it was.

To be fair, it was urgent… ish.

You hadn’t packed for fancy. When you threw things into your suitcase for the summer, you were thinking lake days, bonfires, and living in sweat shorts and oversized tees. Not a birthday dinner at some nice restaurant where your parents expected you to wear a dress.

Which–you didn’t bring.

Jake shut the door behind him, holding out one of the milkshakes. Chocolate, extra whipped cream, hold the cherry, straw already in.

“You good?” he asked, voice low, careful. His expression was all concern, like he thought he’d find blood on the floor.

You grinned and took the shake. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it sound… catastrophic.”

He raised an eyebrow, already halfway through his own milkshake. “That’s one word for it.”

“I have a wardrobe emergency.”

He blinked. “You dragged me here for… fashion advice?”

“I didn’t drag you,” you argued, sipping. “I invited you.”

“To shop.”

“Yes. Please?”

Jake looked at you like he was trying to be annoyed, but his mouth twitched like he was losing the battle. “You couldn’t just ask like a normal person?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“Exactly.”

“Which is why I had to be a little dramatic. You’re here, aren’t you?”

He gave you a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Let’s go, but you owe me.”

“For what?”

“For emotional distress.”

You grinned. “You’re such a baby.”

“You keep calling me names, but I still showed up with milkshakes. Because I’m nice.”

“And handsome,” you added, sarcastic.

“And humble,” he continued, deadpan.

You headed for the passenger side door, about to open it when he groaned.

“I’m driving again?” he muttered, resting his hands on the hood of the car like this was the greatest injustice he’d ever known.

“I prefer to be called your passenger princess,” you respond sweetly. “You know you love it.”

He rolled his eyes but opened the door for you anyway, mock-chivalrous. “Milady.”

You curtsied dramatically before getting in. “What a gentleman.”

Jake shut the door with a shake of his head and walked around to the driver’s side.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he said as he slid in beside you.

“You’d be lost without me.”

“Tragically,” he agreed. But he was still smiling. He started the car and pulled out of the driveway, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Seriously though,” he starts. “What if I was doing something important when you texted? Like… saving someone’s life?”

You shot him a look. “Didn’t know Jacob Black was a local repairman during the day and Batman at night.”

He smirked. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Clearly. And even if you were doing something heroic, you still came anyway.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, voice steady. “Anything for you.”

You felt your face warm. Jacob had always been a sweet talker. Maybe too good at it. Sometimes his words wrapped around you like ribbon—easy to get tangled in. You could never tell if it was intentional or just him being… Jake. It was probably why your parents adored him so much.

“Okay, Mister Smooth Talker,” you said, trying to shake it off. “Let’s go. Take me shopping, since you’re the best, kindest, most caring friend ever.”

Friend.

You cringed the second the word left your mouth–and caught him doing the same.

Growing up, Jake was always just that. Your friend. Your best friend. But coming back after being apart for over a year, something felt off. Or maybe too much. The butterflies you tried to ignore when he looked at you like you were the only person on Earth. The way he touched you—casual but intentional—like the arm he threw over your shoulder during movies or the hand he wrapped around your waist to steer you away from the edge of the street downtown.

Your hormones said one thing, but your brain wouldn’t let you gamble a decade and about a half of friendship on a crush you weren’t even sure you had. Plus, you weren’t someone who followed feelings anyway. You buried them. Swallowed them down before they could complicate things, not because you’d been burned before–but because the future was terrifying. Relationships, careers, everything that forced you to commit or risk falling.

Or maybe some deep, unspoken part of you already knew.

That no one else could ever really fill that space the way one person could. Just one person.

You shook the thought out of your head and leaned back in your seat, tapping your foot to the rhythm of the song he was blasting.

Thankfully, Jacob Black likes you.

No one else in the world would volunteer for a multi-hour shopping trip, drive the full hour to Port Angeles, hold all your bags, and trail behind you like a very large, very reluctant puppy.

Originally, the plan was simple: one dress, maybe a pair of shoes. But that plan unraveled quickly. You weren’t built for restraint when it came to shopping. One store turned into five. Then you remembered you needed a gift for your dad. Then you thought about your friends back home and how they’d want little trinkets. And then you saw a fishing lure you thought Billy would love.

And for all his sighing and groaning and dramatic dragging of feet, Jacob didn’t actually mind. He liked being with you. Always had. Even if you were dragging him into—

“No. Not another one,” he groaned as you tugged on his arm, pointing to a small antique shop tucked between a bakery and a dive bar.

“Jacob, I swear this is the last one. Please.” You gave him the eyes–the ones he could never say no to when you were younger.

He exhaled like you had just asked him to lift the Eiffel Tower. “Fine. But you owe me ice cream.”

“Of course.”

The bell above the door chimed as you both stepped inside. The shop smelled like cedarwood, salt air, and dust. Shelves were packed too tightly, old jazz hummed softly from a crackling speaker behind the counter and the entire place felt like someone’s cluttered memory box.

You drifted to the far right aisle, fingers brushing old trinkets, worn postcards, cracked teacups. Jake veered off in the opposite direction. As much as he liked to complain, you knew he like to get lost in places like this—easily entertained by weird old knickknacks and gadgets.

You weren’t even sure why you came in. You already had everything, but something about places like this always made you linger.

And then a glint of silver caught your eye.

Dangling from a spinning display was a small, slightly tarnished keychain. Manual gear shift. Realistic detailing. The knob even moved. It looked like something pulled straight from a decades-old set of keys. Without thinking, you plucked it off the hook and turned it in your fingers.

It reminded you of the garage. Of Jacob’s hands stained with grease. Of the way he half-smiled when something finally worked after hours of tinkering. Of how you’d sit on the old stool, legs curled up, watching him work in the golden light of late afternoon. Somehow, that had become your thing.

You wanted to buy it without a second thought.

As you approached the front counter, still scanning for Jacob, you placed the keychain down and fished out your wallet.

“Just this?” the cashier asked.

You nodded without looking up, pulling your card from your back pocket. He was young. Shaggy blond hair. Disheveled. Looked about your age.

“How much?” you asked, card in hand.

“Five bucks,” he answered, smiling. You gave him a polite, tight-lipped smile back and started digging for cash instead.

“You from around her?” he asked casually.

“Uh, no. Just visiting from Forks. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know Forks. Kinda guessed you weren’t local. Think I’ve met every pretty girl in Port Angeles already.”

He was flirting, awkwardly. You gave a soft laugh that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thanks, I, uh… yeah. I only have four.”

“That’s alright. Four is good for–” he was cut off by a dollar sliding across the counter beside you.

You turned. Jacob.

His jaw was tense, eyes sharp on the cashier. You could tell he was grinding his teeth–something you’d told him a million times to stop doing.

“Oh, um–receipt?” you asked, flustered.

The cashier handed it over quickly. You grabbed it and the keychain, shoving both into your pocket before heading for the door, Jacob at your heels. The sound of all the bags rustling behind you made you laugh quietly.

Outside, Jake placed a hand on your back and steered you toward the sidewalk.

“We’re never going back there,” he muttered, jaw still tight.

“Jacob,” you giggled, “It’s all good. He wasn’t being weird.”

“He was two seconds away from being weird.”

You hesitated. You didn’t know what to say. Jacob had always been protective. But that? That felt like something else.

“Thought Batman only came out at night,” you teased, bumping his shoulder. “Thanks for saving me from the horror of being flirted with.” You widened your eyes and dropped your jaw, planting your hands dramatically on either side of your face like you were reenacting The Scream.

“You look like a psycho next to me. Stop that.”

And you do. You slowed near the crosswalk and stepped aside, stopping in front of a cozy little restaurant. Jacob followed closely. You pulled the keychain from your pocket and held it in your fist.

“Wait.”

He raised a brow as you stepped in front of him.

You opened your hands and held it out for him. “For you.”

He blinked, surprised. Gently, he took it from you, his calloused fingers brushing against yours.

“You weren’t supposed to pay for it, but I guess it’s a team effort now. It just… reminded me of you. And the garage. Us, y’know?”

He stared at it. Turned it over in his palm. Flicked the tiny shift knob with his thumb. Silent for a long moment.

“Do you like it?” you asked, unsure.

Finally, he looked up.

His smile was slow, wide, and genuine. And in the sunlight, you could see it–the warm streak of caramel hidden in his dark eyes. You never noticed it and always thought they were just a shade of dark brown, but now you do.

“I love it,” he said quietly, voice low and sincere.

“Good.” You grinned. “Ice cream now?”

He nodded, and the two of you started walking, shoulders brushing, toward the pier and the rundown little shack that had the best cones in town.

As you walked ahead of him, Jacob couldn’t help it—his thoughts went back to you. To the way you looked in the antique shop, the way you always knew what would make him smile. To the day you came back to Forks. The day he imprinted on you.

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black x y/n #jacob black x female reader #jacob black x you #jacob black fanfic #x reader #twilight x reader #twilight

271 notes · View notes