#(i am BEGGING me to just do my damn replies for the muses i already have)

[ahsterism-a]

nobody: 

me logging on for the first time in over ten days: damn i kinda wanna add both luz AND amity from the owl hou-

[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS REACTION TO YOU FALLING ASLEEP ON THEM

ft. bokuto koutarou, rintaro suna, iwaizumi hajime, sawamura daichi, tsukkishima kei

note: female reader❗ first post!! enjoy babies<33

❦ BOKUTO you were actually tutoring him with akaashi, an hour in, and akaashi had a family emergency so now it was just you and him. "so you're telling me I can solve an equation with a letter in it? damn that's so crazy!", "We actually saw this the past year, that's why we are tutoring you, so you don't fail", "no need to be so harsh" he tells you while his hair deflates, so you replied with a lazy smile on your face "sorry bo, why don't you solve the equations while I see how you make them?", "yeah! that sounds good!", he practically yells at you with the happiest smile on his face as if he wasn't studying for a subject he was failing. third equation and you were finding comfort on koutaro's neck, so much comfort that you end up falling asleep on him. "hey, how am I doing? you didn't tell m- oh you're sleeping, I should call akaashi to ask him what to do" he tried to look for his phone in the quietest way so you wouldn't wake up, and once he finds it, he called his friend, "akaaaaashii", "bokuto-san, why are you whispering?", "she just fell asleep on me and I don't know what to do", he tells akaashi with a little desperation on his voice, "oh, okay, carefully put her on your bed and please make some snacks or tea for the girl when she wakes up", after a little more of small talk, he hangs up the phone and brings you to bed in the gentlest way he can, quietly making his way to the kitchen to make some tea for you.

❦ SUNA lazy afternoons were actually something pretty common with suna, today after school you two went to his house and now you're lying on top of his naked chest, one of your hands on it while the other one is brushing his brown looks, at the same time, suna has his arm wrapped securely around your waist, watching some shitty movies on his laptop. "listen pretty thing, if you fall asleep first you're gonna have to make me dinner", "as if I would fall asleep right now sunarin... we both now I'm gonna make dinner anyways, you should really ask 'samu for some help in the kitchen", "don't you dare bring up another mans name while your literally on top of me". forty-five minutes into the movie and he started feeling something wet on his upper body, "baby the movie isn't even that sa– oh, you're drooling", he chuckled to himself, carefully cuddling you the rest of the movie, thinking how lucky he is for having you, and once the film is ending, he decided he would make dinner this time around; "Rin, are you in here?"', "in the kitchen, doll", he tells you a little loud so you could hear him, "I'm sorry I fell asleep", you yawn while wrapping your arms around his torso, "don't be, look at me now I'm making dinner but, this" he gestures to himself "is husband material, you shouldn't waste it", and damn he is right, who on his right state of mind would let him go?

❦ IWAIZUMI his unconditional love for you was noticed for everyone, except you, of course. as his and the other boys childhood friends, you were always invited to hangouts, except the ones that were just for "the boys" as they claimed. today's reunion was at issei's house, tooru and you begged for a Disney movie night, makki was saying that it was for children just so his friends couldn't see the excitement in his eye that wasn't unnoticed to your eyes. making your way to the couch, hajime signed for you to come to sit on his lap for the rest of the movie night, a thing you kindly accepted. "single lives matter, you know", issei says with a fake pout, "just shut up and let me enjoy, caterpillar brows" you told him while iwaizumi's arm tightens around your waist. your favorite part of the movie was coming so tooru said with an excited tone, "look cutie-chan, Megara is about to sing with the muses!... cutie-chan? you're ignoring me?", Hajime looked at you because tooru was right, that was indeed your favorite part of the movie, only to find you crushed on his neck slightly snoring; "shut up shittykawa, she's tired, let her sleep", he whispered, wishing his teammates didn't see the blush on his cheeks, "you know iwa, your cheeks are kinda matching my hair right now", makki told him trying to hide his laugh, "what happened iwa-chan? cat got your tongue?", tooru's remark was what send him over the edge, so he replied with "I will not hesitate to throw a ball to all of you next practice", he thought he could handle the teasing if that means you would be by his side like this more often.

❦ DAICHI you were exhausted from today's activities, not only you were on your basketball school team but exams were just around the corner so you were studying a lot and sleeping less these past days, exhausted would be the least you could call it. happy thing, today is friday and that means sleepover with your boyfriend, daichi; you were already waiting for him at the gate of the gym by the end of practice. "baby, you're okay? something seems off", he told you with a worried look on his face, "all cool, I'm just happy we have some time to spend together after this week" you told him with a quick kiss in the corner of his lip, making his cheeks a little pinkish. after you two arrived to your house, he went to the kitchen to make some snacks and you went to the living room to choose a movie; "Barbie and the diamond castle? again?", "yes, again daichi, deal with it, thank you for the snacks tho bub" literally fifteen minutes into the movie and you were already drooling on his bicep, he noticed and moved your head to his lap "you're lucky I love you, I don't watch Barbie movie's for everyone, sleep well, you deserve it love" a few more minutes and his head was hanging out of the couch snoring just a little, he went to sleep happy with the feeling of being beside you, can't wait for the future, he thinks before dozing off.

❦ TSUKKISHIMA your really tall and pretty boyfriend made his way inside the school, mentally hoping to see you, what he doesn't expect is not even a single tray of you in your classroom, a thing that leaves him to ask yachi where are you, "umh yachi, do you know where is she?" he asked with an unbothered expression, slowly dying on the inside, "she? OH, yes, she told me she is with a high fever so she could make it today, would you give to her my notes please?" she asked, a little intimidated by the tall boy, "yeah sure, tell daichi and ukai that I'm not going to practice today" after yachi giving him the okay he left, a little more relieved but still worried. the school day is over and after his younger manager lend him the notes you needed, he started making his way to your house, greeting your mother once he is in, going directly to your room where he doesn't even greet you, "why you didn't tell me you were sick? I could have skip class and take care of you", he tells you, annoyed but still caring, "I didn't tell you beacuse of that exact reason Kei, now come inside the bed and cuddle me" tsukkishima got inside the bed hesitating a little bit but once he found comfort on your warm, he was gone, "you know, you worried me, I couldn't stop thinking about you all day and you were here with a high fever and I could do nothing, i— you know is rude not to answer when someone is talking to you?", actually you were dead asleep the moment he touched the bed, his warm and company was all you needed and craved for the entire day; sighing he whispers to you, before going to sleep "I love you, please don't worry me again like that, short stuff"

[nightowlfandom]

Possesive! Jeon Jungkook- Only Mine....

HEY GUYS!

SO ANON ASKS

Your new promp list had me 🥵🥵🥵 if it’s ok can I request numbers 1, 3, 34, 79 with jealous best friend JJK snapping after seeing you around boys all the time? You can choose if you want it noncon or dubcon 🥵

OMG I GLAD YOU LIKE IT! OKAY LETS GET RIGHT TO IT! (Also since I don’t do non-con, I’ll make it consensual. Just a heads up)

1- Look at me when I fuck you!

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

34- I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you.

79- Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

LEGGO!

...

“Kookie!” You ran up to your bestie as he walked out of the airport terminal.

“Y/N!” he practically dropped his duffel bag as he wrapped his arms around your wait. He hoisted you off the ground. He buried his head in the crook of your neck. “My Y/N, I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” you laughed as he tightened his arms around you.

“And I get you all to myself- he began.

“Y/N!” you heard an onslaught of voices. Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin and the other guys all crowded around you. You were pulled out of Jungkook’s hug into Namjoon.

“Guys!” you smiled. “I missed you all too!”

“Damn, you should’ve seen Jungkook! He bolted out of the plane!” Hoseok laughed.

“Maybe because I wanted to see my Y/N.” he grumbled in reply. “Give her back!”

“No way!” Yoongi scoffed. “You can have her back after we get dinner.”

Jungkook glared as his friends. How dare they just take you from him?! 

“You guys!” you laughed. “We’re making a scene!” you said as their fans caught sights of you. They all seemed infuriated. “You’re fans are gonna-”

“Our fans aren’t gonna do shit.” Jungkook glared into the crowd. “Let them try.” he seethed. He snatched you back into his embrace. “I’ll protect you, love.”

You nodded shyly as Kookie led you to the front of the airport.

...

“Okay weirdos! Dinner is served!” you held the giant box of takeout. “Noodles for Yoongi, Taehyung! Rice Cakes for Seokjin, Namjoon and Hobi. For Jimin, some Extra Spicy Tofu Stew. and For Jungkook and I, fried rice!” you put the box on the coffee table.

Jungkook smirked, of course he went out of his way to make sure no one ordered the same thing as you. He made sure you had ordered last so he could order the same thing. 

“Shit, they gave me way too much Bulgogi.” Namjoon seethed. “Y/N, wanna split with me? I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all of this.” Namjoon looked at you who had already settled. 

“Oh. Sure!” you smiled. 

Namjoon shot Jungkook a mean spirited smile. “In your face, asshole.” he said with his eyes, even though the words never escaped his lips

DAMNIT! Jungkook felt his fist clench. He rolled his eyes. “Hey! Y/N! Pass me a napkin will ya?”

“Oh. yeah.” you threw a napkin his way before resuming your conversation with Yoongi. 

Jungkook watched as Yoongi traced his fingers on your wrists as he spoke to you.  His face hardened into a glare. Everyone knew he liked you, but until he made his move they wouldn’t care. 

...

To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was practically steaming at the ears.

“Why were you with Hoseok?” he asks as he stormed through his room door, a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Surprising but not painful.

“He needed help shopping for an outfit for a photoshoot?” you raised a brow. “Why?”

“Don’t bullshit me! You were on a date!”

“Okay first of all even if I was, what business of yours is that?” you crossed your arms. “You’ve been acting pretty weird these past few days and I don’t like it!”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU PARADING YOURSELF AROUND LIKE A-”

“I dare you to fucking finish that sentence.” you warned. “You can forget you had a friend if you do.” You backed towards the door.

Jungkook grew more and more agitated. “Y/N I’m sorry.” he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Why are you acting so weird?” you sighed. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“No!!” he looked at you as if you had lost your mind. “Y/N I LOVE YOU!” he blurted out. “I’ve loved you for five fucking years ever since we met!!” he spilled his heart out. “and y-you’re putting me in an uncomfortable position!”

“Huh?” you could barely register what he said before he stormed up and captured your mouth is a kiss. 

‘Kookie!” you were surprised to say the least. “You just- Hmm.” he didn’t give you time to talk as he kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He ran his fingers down your spine, holding you close.

You would have been over cloud nine...if you weren’t so angry.

“WAIT A MINUTE.” you forced yourself to step back from him. “FIVE YEARS?” you exploded. “FIVE FUCKING YEARS AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME! YOU LET ME BELIEVE YOU ONLY SAW ME AS A FRIEND FOR FIVE MISERY FILLED-...”you began pacing back and forth as you lashed out on your friend.

Jungkook just watched as you drug him for filth, calling him every name in the book.

“YOU ASSHOLE! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO HIDE MY FEELINGS AND YOU JUST COME OUT THE WATER AND TELL ME THAT- OH YOU PEICE OF-” Jungkook finally had enough and cornered you against the nearest wall.

“...I feel like... I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you. “ he mused aloud. “You’re in love with me? And you didn’t tell me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that somethin-”

"I am still mad at you.” you sneered. “After tonight you are dead to me.”

“Am I ?” he cooed. “So you don’t want me to...” he began fumbling with your jeans, unfastening the button with one hand. 

“What are you doing?” your eyes widened. You were now more shocked that angry. “Don’t you dare-...” you felt the pads of his fingers along the line of your clothed slit. 

“What? Was that a moan I just heard?” he smirked. “Come on Y/N I know you can be louder than that. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll make you cum.” he creeped into the waistband of your panties. “Come on...beg me honey.”

“I refuse.” you looked away. “Y-you can go fu-fuuuhh-” you felt the pads of his fingers. 

“I said fucking beg.” he sneered, pressing his body up against yours. “Stop being so damn stubborn. Let me hear those sounds you think nobody hears when you finger yourself in the bathrooms at midnight.”

“How did you-”

“You stink at being quiet.” he bit his lip. “Come on.” he spoke in a babyish voice, rubbing your clit. “This is how you do it to yourself, right?”

“J-jungkook.” you whimpered. “W-what are you-”you cut yourself off as you felt his fingers slip into your wetness. A loud moan erupted from your lungs. 

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s fucking it.” he growled. “Moan like that some more.” he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you. “Are you thinking about me when you thrust those pretty fingers into that-”

“Don’t say it! That’s a dirty word!” you warned, while ironically mewling like a little kitty cat.

“Don’t say what? That pussy? That cunt? That soaking wet womanhood you got down there. The same pussy that’s asking me to shove my dick in there?” he smirked as he spoke.

“You d-dick!” you leaned forward, your head falling on his shoulder. “S-such as asshole.��

“  Look at me when I fuck you with my fingers.” he demanded. “Or I’ll stop completely.”

You shyly lifted you head. Jungkook thought you were so adorable and truth be told he wouldn’t have stopped. To know that you obeyed anyways was so relieving. 

“Shit, I needa taste you real quick.” he moved his fingers from you and yanked down your jeans. “Kick those off for me.”

You instantly obeyed, throwing your jeans and panties off to the side. He lowered himself to his knees. “Shit, look at that.” he wasted no time in driving his tongue into you.

“Hey Jungkook!” there was a knock on the door. Jungkook had pushed you against the door, stopping anyone from opening it. You heard Jimin’s voice.

You glared down at Jungkook with warning. You knew what was gonna happen, but you were scared anyways. 

“Hmmm!” he moaned loudly, driving his tongue deeper into your slit. He sucked at your clit, causing a loud cry to escape you. 

“Umm is Y/N in there with you?” he called. “IS SHE HURT?!”

You tried to talk, but Jungkook had hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Come on, answer him.”

“I-I’m okay!” you found it in yourself to talk. “I’m just...a little busy!” you clenched your fist to focus on something, anything else. “Doing things!”

“Like what?”

“LIKE BEING FUCKED BY ME!” Jungkook yelled back as he rose to his feet, pants dropping around his ankles. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You felt his cock slip into your heat. “COME BACK LATER!”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he carried you to the bed, setting you down along with himself. He slowly thrust himself into your wetness. “Damnit Y/N.” he seethed, sucking in a harsh intake of air. “Shit.” his jaw went slack.

“F-fuck.” you whimpered. “Kookie.” you whimpered. 

“Y/N.” you could see the tears of pleasure forming in his eyes. “You feel so- So fucking good. Look at me, p-please?”

You didn’t tear your eyes away from him. You found it hard to. “Jungkook! I- Uh..” you were now a load, crumbling mess.

“I want to kiss you, come here.” he grabbed either side of your face and gave you a slopped kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. But I don’t want to until you cum first. So I’m gonna go faster okay?” His eyes bore into yours, noses touching.

You shyly nodded, feeling his thrusts increase. You were hella sensitive, and in love with it. “Jungkook.” you moaned. “It feels-”

“I know.” he kissed you again. “Fuck, cum for me...cum for me please~” he mewled through thrusts.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. A string of curses he had never heard before along with his name spilled from your lips. Jungkook was next to cum, yanking himself from you. He spilled his cum practically all over the place. He collapsed next to you, leaving you both to stare at the ceiling.

“...I should go.”

“ No...Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.“ he breathed out. “Y/N...I-..I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You should be.” your breath hitched. “Probably would have gotten this out of the way a lot sooner.”

Your grumpy words made him laugh a little. He lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you towards him. “I love you, for real.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. You’re mine. Only mine...”

...

I STILL GOT IT BITCHESSSS

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

can you pleasee do pt 2 to draco fucking his arranged marriage wife of the next day the reader being needy saying that she can’t get enough of him while he’s working in his office and he’s like “babe im busy😑” but then rails tf outta her right there😀 with like praise and daddy kink😩😩😩

read part 1 here

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 3.0k

warning(s): 18+, dom/sub roles, daddy kink, praise, slight degradation/humiliation, mentions of arranged marriage

a/n: i have been so excited to write a part two to this imagine the second i got the request. there will also be a part three coming soon so if you like these stay tuned! these have to be my favorite ones i've ever written.

It was the day after your marriage truly started. Although you and your husband, Draco Malfoy, had been married for weeks, the marriage truly began yesterday.

It had been a whirlwind.

It all began with you fucking your ex boyfriend, something you did in a desperate attempt to receive physical contact and get out of the house you had thought to be a prison.

When your husband came home, you decided it would be a brilliant idea to tell him. It was an arranged marriage, one that he did not seem enthusiastic to be a part of, so you figured there would be no hard feelings.

You were incredibly, incredibly wrong.

He had a lot of feelings about your adultery, but not only was there the anger and jealousy you were expecting, there was sadness. That had taken you by surprise, and only after poking the dragon, you finally consummated your marriage with your husband. Right there on the couch of the entrance hall.

After he had fucked you silly, you both reached the agreement that you would actually try to work as a real marriage. You had both made mistakes, and you were both ready and excited to move past those and really try to build a relationship out of what you had both thought was doomed from the start.

Which was why you were in front of his study, a hand raised and ready to knock, the following evening. He had been in there most of the day, working on a project for what you had learned to be connected to the Malfoy’s family business, but you were ready to put an end to his work day in the best way you knew how.

Your hand had barely connected with the wood when you heard a curt “Come in,” from the other side of the door.

You opened the door slowly and walked in, taking in the sight before you. There were papers scattered all over the desk, inkwells and quills mixed into the mess. Either you caught him at a bad time, or he wasn’t as tidy as you had assumed.

But it wasn’t the desk that caught your eye. It was him.

His button down shirt was rolled up the elbows at the cuffs. His hands, already littered with rings, were smudged with ink and deftly writing something down on a piece of parchment. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head, but what struck you were his glasses. You didn’t even know he wore glasses. But he looked damn good in them, because of course he fucking did.

“Yes?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he watched you openly check him out. You hadn’t even realized he had looked up from the parchment he had been writing on.

“Just figured you could use a break, dinner’s ready,” you explained, quickly catching yourself.

“I’ll be out in a bit. I just need to finish this bit up,” he replied, an obvious dismissal but you had had enough of that over the past two weeks to last a lifetime.

“Draco, you’ve obviously been at this for a while. Just come take a break,” you argued defiantly, happy with the knowledge you finally felt comfortable enough to do so.

“Y/N, I’m busy,” he said gently, clearly not wanting to break the carefully made balance you had just created with a silly argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You admitted it to yourself when you walked in the room. You didn’t really want him to take a break just to have dinner with you. No. You wanted him to take a break so he would fuck you right over his desk.

“You can finish it later,” you continued, your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for his eventual push back.

But his argument never came.

Slowly, painfully slow, he began to stack up his papers in neat piles to put them away. Next were the inkwells being covered and finally the quills being put away. All without a word between you both.

When his desk was cleared, he finally turned his attention back to you.

“You come into my study and argue with me over taking a break just to go eat dinner. You haven’t bothered to ask me to dinner once over the past few weeks. So is it really dinner that’s got you so riled up, or is it something else?” He asked straight faced, but the twinkle in his eye led you to believe he knew exactly why you were arguing.

“Can’t a wife just want to spend time with her husband?” You argued, but it didn’t hold the impact you wanted the words to have.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, pushing his chair back just slightly. “Come here,” he commanded, crooking his fingers in your direction.

With just two silly little words your skin was flushed and your nerves were on fire. You weren’t sure what type of hold this man had over you, but it ran deep for only having just fucked him the day before for the first time.

You followed his command without a second thought, and it led you to standing right between his spread legs with your back pressed up against his now pristine desk.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think my wife just wants to get fucked. Am I correct?” He asked, raking his eyes over your body greedily, taking in every inch of you. You were just lucky you dressed to impress tonight in a perfect, form-fitting black cocktail dress. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Yes,” you answered easily, completely giving up the fight now that you could see the hunger that you felt reflected in his eyes.

He gave you a slow smile before dragging you down to straddle his lap, perfectly placing you so you could feel his growing erection against your core as he kissed you roughly. It was perfect after a day of craving him so fiercely, and you knew this was only the appetizer.

His hands possessively roamed your body as he continued to dominate your kiss, finally landing on your ass to pull you closer against him. Your hands made quick work of taking his glasses off and gently placing them on the desk somewhere behind you before trailing through his hair, messing up his perfectly placed platinum locks.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down on him, moans spilling from both of your lips at the friction. He let you do as you please for a few minutes, just enjoying kissing you and having you in his lap, but once your hands went to undo the buttons on his shirt, he gripped your hips roughly and pushed you back.

“Let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. I’m in charge, and you’ll be a good girl and do as I say, won’t you?” He asked, running a thumb along your lower lip as he spoke.

You bit his finger gently before answering, and your answer only riled him up more than the bite did.

“Yes, Daddy.”

And just like that he unleashed himself on you, much like he had done the day before.

He had you on your feet and spun around faster than you could even blink. Within the next breath, your dress was being stripped off of your body and thrown across the room, your breasts exposed. When he had you bent over the desk with just a thong on, he finally opened his mouth again.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked, dragging his hands up the back of your thighs until he was grabbing your ass again.

“Yes,” you gasped out, knowing you were already drenched from his words and touch alone.

When you felt his palm connect with your raised ass, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that fell from your lips.

“Yes, what?” He asked, rubbing his hands in circles to soothe the ache, but the contrast of his warm skin and cold rings only left you shaking.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered, saying the words again.

They were meant to be a joke at first. Just another jest to rile him up and poke at him. But now, after having called him Daddy twice, it was starting to feel right. Like this was exactly the dynamic you were meant to be in with him.

“So much better. Look at you, already dripping down your thighs,” he mused, his finger trailing up your thigh in what you could only assume was a patch of wetness, a blush falling over your face at the thought.

He dragged your thong down your legs and slowly freed your feet before tossing the scrap of fabric across the room as well, leaving you totally exposed.

“Is this what you wanted? To be bent over Daddy’s desk just begging to be fucked?” He asked, his weight pinning you down as he bent over, slowly dragging his lips up the side of your neck as he spoke. You could feel how hard he was against your ass and you fought now to roll your hips into him, but you knew he would put an end to it anyway.

“Please fuck me,” you begged quietly, your words no more than a whisper as you played right into the fantasy he was spinning for the both of you.

“Patience, darling,” he said accompanied by a dark chuckle, but he didn’t leave you wanting.

He kept his weight on you, his lips leaving open mouth kisses on your neck that were sure to leave bruises for the coming days, but he dragged a finger up your slit and plunged inside of you.

You were so on edge that the one finger almost made you cum right then, but of course he was careful to make sure that didn’t happen. He teased you along until one finger turned into two, and by then you were a writhing mess on his desk.

“Daddy, please. I’m ready. Just fuck me,” you begged impatiently, all of your focus on him and his miraculous fingers.

Silently, he pulled back to stand up fully behind you. For a moment, you thought you’d be getting what you wanted, but you should have known it was too good to be true. You weren’t getting fucked until he thought you were ready.

You felt his thumbs pull your lips apart, and you knew all of his focus was right on you, right on where you were a dripping mess for him and that had you fighting not to squirm under his gaze.

“I told you to be patient, pretty girl. Or are you just that desperate to cum you couldn’t help yourself? Because this pretty little hole isn’t ready for me yet,” he mused, and his words forced an unexpected moan out of you.

You were exposed and aching, a true flushed mess in front of him, while he was a master of poise and control, still fully clothed behind you. Something about the situation made your head spin and your knees weak, and you knew you were in for a wild ride with this man. But you were willing to take anything and everything he threw your way because there was no denying you were enjoying every second of this. Not when he was holding you open obscenely and could see the evidence for himself.

“I want to cum,” you answered honestly, your breasts grinding on the desk and you arched your back, further exposing yourself in the hopes that he would fulfill your wishes.

While still holding you open, he used one gentle finger to stroke over your clit and it was just enough pressure to cause a shiver to run down your spine. If he kept it up, you knew you’d cum in seconds. “Go ahead, cum for me. Let me watch you make a mess of yourself,” he commanded, keeping the gentle pressure on your clit.

You came with a scream, your legs shaking beneath you. The desk was the only reason you stayed up, otherwise you would have collapsed from the force of your orgasm right there. It felt like one of the most intense orgasms of your life, all just from a little flick of his finger.

As you came down, you were gasping for air, just as desperate for your next breath as you were for Draco’s cock. No matter how mind shattering your orgasm had been, you were still craving more. You’d always crave more from him.

“That was beautiful, darling - watching you clench around nothing as you screamed for me. I think you’re ready for my cock now,” he mused, slowly stroking his hands up and down your back in an effort to calm your body, but every nerve was on fire from his touch.

“Please, please, fuck me Draco. I need you,” you were begging shamelessly now, not even worried about making a fool of yourself in this new marriage. You were both too invested in this moment to care, both of you just knew you needed each other.

“Shh, you have me, pretty girl. I’m right here,” he soothed, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders as he worked to free his cock behind you. “Stay just like that.”

You didn’t even know he had succeeded in taking his cock out until you felt his tip against your entrance, and he didn’t wait a second longer. He plunged into you like he was just as desperate as you were, which by the way he was fucking you in brutal strokes, you could tell he was.

Your hands clutched the edge of the desk for dear life, your knuckles a bright white against the dark oak wood. With every thrust, your hips collided with the sharp edge, sure to leave some marks for you to admire the next day.

You could feel the power behind each deep, hard stroke and you knew he was giving you his all. The previous night had been kind and sweet compared to the brutal fucking he was giving you now. You felt fucked within an inch of your life and he had barely even started.

“Fuck, Y/N. You take me so fucking well. So perfect,” he praised, not even sounding out of breath. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even control the noises that were coming from your mouth.

You climbed up the peak steadily, but even in your cock drunk daze you knew this orgasm would wipe you out. Once you were about to reach the edge, he pulled out.

“No, please, fuck. I was so close,” you whined, but a startled gasp came out of your mouth next when he lifted you up and spun you around, your back crashing back down on the desk with a gentle thud.

You finally got the chance to look at him, then. His cock was hard and aching, on the verge of falling over the edge himself. His hair was disheveled and he had that glow that only sex could bring coming from his perfect skin, but when you locked eyes you couldn’t look away. His silver eyes were clouded with lust and possession, a man closing in for the kill on his prey. It was terrifying and arousing all at once, but you were sure your own eyes reflected something similar.

Draco wasted no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders and coming down to take your lips in a brutal kiss just before fucking back into you, his pace the same as it had been in the previous position. He swallowed your moans greedily, but finally pulled back to just concentrate on your face.

“I needed to look at you when you came on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart for me,” he ordered, but his voice was gentle and there was a smile fighting to tug on his face. It didn’t hold the same dominance his previous commands did, but you followed it all the same.

One, two, three thrusts later you came with his name on your lips as he fucked you through it. It was like your whole world blacked out and only the two of you existed, suspended in this moment as he stared down at your blissed out face. He followed you shortly, and the feel of him emptying himself inside of you accompanied by the litany of choked out praises he was giving you was almost enough to push you into a third orgasm.

You both stayed like that as the minutes passed, chest to chest and near face to face as you caught your breath. It was no easy feat after an orgasm like that, but finally he was wrapping you in his arms and balancing you in his lap as he got comfortable in his desk chair once again.

“Was that too much?” He asked, the concern dripping from his voice as he tenderly brushed your hair from your face.

You could have laughed at his concern. That was the best sex you had ever had in your life, and he was asking if it was too much. But you didn’t want to worry him.

“Draco, that was perfect. I loved every second of it,” you told him honestly, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye so he would have no room for doubt.

It was him who laughed then, in sheer disbelief of the woman curled up in his lap. “I got too lucky with you. You’re perfect,” he said with a smile, a small kiss to your forehead following his words.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you insisted, curling further into his chest as the events of the evening finally wore on your body. It was comfortably silent for a few minutes as he held you, until you remembered why you had truly come into his study in the first place. “But I was serious when I came in. Dinner’s ready,” you reminded him with a slight giggle.

“How about I get you up to bed and we eat dinner in bed, hm?” He asked, already lifting you up and carrying you towards the door.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, relaxing against his strong chest as he continued to prove just how lucky you were to end up in this arranged marriage.

[divine-mistake]

bitter fruit

Summary: “The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes/(f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut (oral fem receiving, Bucky is a slut for consent), language, graphic depictions of violence, blood

Word Count: 9338

A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested an enemies to lovers with eventual smut and I got so so carried away with this request and ended up writing this 9k chonker! (5k of it is smut so, carry on) HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! Enjoy!!

main masterlist | AO3

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you snap, “maybe about saving all the innocent people that’ve been trapped in HYDRA’s basement for god knows how long?”

Bucky snarls at you, grabbing the front of your tac-suit and pulling you up until your nose is inches from his. A striking pain shoots through your side like a bullet, which is funny, considering the hole he stitched up for you what seemed like seconds ago.

But just like your relationship, numb one second and blazing the next, it’s like some switch has flipped in his brain in a matter of minutes.

You should really give him some more credit—the man describes his brain as spaghetti most days. And as funny as it sounds, it really isn’t. You’re keenly aware of the haunted look that fills his eyes when he struggles with his past.

Except when he acts like this, it’s hard to remember that.

Something smells of smoke and gunpowder. People are screaming. The men who just ran through the door are shouting in Russian, you know, because you’ve heard the same language from Bucky’s mouth when he’s having nightmares. Faintly, you realize there’s a pain just above your hip. You don’t have time to look. The gun is in your hands and you’re firing. Someone—innocent, crying—bumps into you as they flee the scene. Your shot goes wide.

Bucky’s voice crackles over the comms. “Where are you?” He sounds panicked.

“Got held up,” you respond. “I’m on my way. Civilians headed to you.”

He curses your name. “I told you to get back to the jet!”

The butt of an assault rifle is hurtling toward you and you duck, rolling across the dirty concrete. The pain in your side flares up, burning. You think you might’ve gotten shot. You return the favor, killing two more HYDRA agents.

“I took a detour.”

A moment to breathe. Your eyes roam over the cells that you uncovered in the base, checking for any signs of life you previously missed. It’s all dead bodies and blood. You’re starting to feel weak.

“Get back to the fucking jet, agent! The base is rigged to blow!”

Before you can reply, someone grabs you by the hair, the muzzle of a gun pressed into your neck. On reflex and instinct alone, you thrust your elbow into his side and disarm him just in time. The gun goes off, bullet lodging in the concrete. Fucking slug would’ve ripped right through you.

“Bit busy,” you reply to Bucky.

Your name is lost to the sound of you firing the last few rounds into your attacker. When you’re sure he’s dead, you slump to the wet floor, knees unable to hold you any longer. The pain in your side is killing you—probably literally. A gasp escapes you when you press your fingers to the wound, trying to staunch the blood from the bullet hole, but at this point, you guess it doesn’t matter. The base is going to go up in flames in a few more minutes and you don’t have the strength to get back to the quinjet.

And really, you don’t want to. Bucky’s gonna be pissed.

“Hey, Barnes,” you wheeze through the comms. He doesn’t reply. “You know how you got all pissy at Sam when he ate your last loaf of that banana bread, and you put all those laxatives in his brownies and he was shitting for like, days? Yeah, that was me. I ate your banana bread.”

He never replies, but you chuckle all the way until you fall asleep, cheek pressed into a pool of someone’s blood.

He says your name now, catching your attention again, and when you roll your eyes at him he shakes you again. With a hiss of pain, you try and shove him away from you, but his dumb super soldier ass is too heavy.

“That hurts!”

“Good!” Bucky finally lets you go and you slump against your seat, wincing. “Maybe the pain will make you stop being so fucking reckless! You defied a direct order from your captain. You could have died.”

“Maybe I should have,” you mutter back, not looking at him.

“I should be so lucky,” he seethes. “If I hadn’t gone back for your dumbass, your body wouldn’t have even been recovered. You would have rotted in that damn HYDRA base. Is that what you want?”

You snort. “Ain’t like I got a family who wants my ashes.”

Bucky throws up his hands, exasperated, and then decides to pace up and down the aisle of the jet. He doesn’t look at you, and you only sneak glances at the rage painting his face when you’re sure he isn’t going to see you staring. He looks just as worn as you, the sole sleeve of his tac-suit bloody and ripped up, charred remains and soot skimming his boots where he’s tied the laces tight. Sweat-matted and probably dried with blood, his hair is falling in chunks from the bun he usually keeps it in for missions now, and he has to brush it out of his face every few paces he takes.

In another phrase, Bucky is fucking hot right now.

Maybe death would have been tragic, you muse, since you wouldn’t get to see the absolute specimen of your partner anymore.

For as much as you two hate each other, you can’t deny how gorgeous he is. Ripped to match the gods, carefully trimmed beard only a little more bristled than the one Steve sports these days, and god, the man wears a sweater like it’s Armani.

When you blink, you realize he’s looking at you, and your face flushes. It isn’t the first time he’s caught you staring at him hungrily, you’re sure, but most of the time he gets this stupid smug look on his face, lips wide in a smirk, and sometimes he’ll even throw you a flirty little line that has you gnashing your teeth and snapping at him to fuck off.

But this time, he’s so angry that he just stares at you, eyes narrowed in a glare.

“When we get back,” he says, nostrils flaring, “I’m benching you.”

“What?” you cry out, eyes wide. “Why the fuck—who the—who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Your captain!” he roars, and you almost swear the whole jet shakes with his fury. “You disobeyed my direct order to retreat to the jet and instead you almost cost us both our lives. Why the fuck shouldn’t I bench you?”

“I didn’t ask you to come save me!” you shout back, trying to stand from your seat. Almost immediately, Bucky shoves you back down.

“Not only am I your captain for this mission, but I’m your partner. I’m responsible for you. What, you just expect me to leave you behind?”

“The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

The way that Bucky is looking at you right now steals all your breath away, steals all the fight you feel in your bones. You watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way the vein in his neck jumps, the way he holds his jaw tight. His eyes, a blaze of blue, are looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve right in front of him, leaving behind a body bag of skin and bones and teeth. That’s all you are, maybe.

“Stay with me,” he says, voice so close to your ear. “Please, just stay with me, doll.”

It’s all hazy. The world is black. You can’t open your eyes, they’re so heavy. Your body hurts so bad, so fucking bad. Someone is jostling you and it hurts so bad and you just want to open your mouth and scream.

“You’re okay.” It’s Bucky, you realize in some vague fog of a dream. “You’re going to be okay, I’ve got you.”

Your leg feels like it’s on fire. The air smells like the fourth of July, all fire and gunpowder and barbeque. Burnt flesh. It’s hot and thick, the smoke you’re breathing in.

“I have so much to tell you,” he whispers, maybe. Or maybe that’s just how it sounds in your mind. “So much to say to you. So much to apologize for. I need to tell you something. You told me about that dumb fucking banana bread. I have something I gotta tell you, doll.”

What? What does he have to tell you? You want to ask but your throat is so dry and your lips are glued together.

You want to tell him you aren’t dying, and god, he’s being so dramatic. But you can’t, because you might actually be dying.

Instead, you try so so so hard to open your eyes, and a sliver of light invades your vision, and even with the way your eyelids shudder, you can see Bucky’s face. Just a little bit. He’s covered in blood, you think.

Oh, but his eyes. Fuck, you love his eyes. Thank god you opened yours so you could stare at his eyes before you go to sleep again. So blue. So deep. So icy and sad and hurt and beautiful.

“Please,” he says, and you swear it’s the only time he’s ever begged you for anything.

Of course, you tell yourself before your eyes close again.  I’d do anything for you.

“Why do you care?” you whisper, and he blanches, because you swear his damned super soldier hearing can even hear your thoughts.

But fuck it, you’re young, wild, and free, and you’re alive now too, so fuck it.

“Why do you care?” you repeat, louder this time, very clearly addressing him. “Why do you care so much if I die? You’ve hated me since the day you met me,” you spit the words out like poison.

Bucky turns away, gaze trained on something other than you and your bloodied tac-suit.

“We’ve always fought about this,” you continue. “This isn’t anything new, Barnes. You knew I’d go down to save those people. You knew I’d risk my life to get them out. You know this and you still fucking went after me. So why?”

The silence eats at every edge you have until it consumes you, and Bucky never replies.

You watch him walk away, toward the cockpit, and you don’t have the energy to follow him and finish the fight.

“Get it through your pretty little head before you go on a mission and get yourself killed, doll.” Bucky’s smirk sends a shiver through you and you aren’t sure if it's anger or arousal. You bite down on your tongue to keep from lashing out. “You can’t save everyone.”

“Bullshit,” you say before you realize. Bucky’s eyes go wide. “I took this job because I have the ability to save people, so I’m going to save everyone.”

His mouth opens but you cut him off.

“I don’t care if you can’t save everyone, but me?” Your finger is braced against his hard chest and he doesn’t recoil. “I’ll save everyone or I’ll die trying.”

“Hey,” Steve says, trying to move between you two, but you barely notice his presence.

“You’re stupid,” Bucky hisses.

You smirk. “You’re not as skilled as you think you are.”

“Shut up,” he snarls.

“Make me,” you snap back.

“Guys,” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Meet me in the ring.” Bucky’s eyes are glaring down at you, heated. “Let’s see if you can handle me, doll.”

“Buck!” Steve’s hand falls on Bucky’s shoulder, working to hold him back from stalking off to the gym. But Bucky shrugs him off.

“Back off, Steve.” He looks over his shoulder at you as if daring you to follow.

And, fuck, you’ve never backed down from a challenge in your entire life, so you follow him all the way to the training room, watching the way his muscles strain through his tight t-shirt the whole way.

He’s kind enough to hold the ropes up so you can duck under easier, but you roll your eyes and leverage your foot against the spring and tuck your legs underneath you to jump the top rope easily. You throw him the same look that he did, a coy gaze over your shoulder, and then you beckon him forward.

His nostrils flare and you wonder what he’d look like on top of you in bed.

“Wrap your hands, for god’s sake,” Steve shouts, but you ignore him in favor of cracking your knuckles for good measure.

“I’m not planning on getting mine bloody,” you tell him, and Bucky laughs brusk.

“You should plan on losing,” he says, smirking.

With a twist of your jaw, you crack your neck. “Not planning on that, either.”

Like big cats, the two of you circle each other, toes so light the mat makes no noise. Bucky’s eyes are focused, narrowed, and beautiful like this, you think. He’s calculating every single movement you’re making and it sends a heat down to your core. This is all just foreplay to you.

Until he charges, and then it’s on. You’re a flurry of limbs, defensive stances and blocks. Bucky is unrelenting and the fucker is fast for his size. He never uses his metal arm to attack, but the manic whirr and click of it as he moves is alarming. There’s a window of opportunity when Bucky overshoots a right hook and you duck underneath his arm, and you’re able to get behind him and kick him the back of his knee. He falters for not even a second and then it’s back on.

It’s a dance, weaving between limbs and twirling kicks aimed at his head. You struggle to figure out how to take him down—he’s so big, like a fucking brick wall. There’s very little chance you can flip him. You’re going to have to try and get him in a hold, but there’s no way he’s going to allow you to do that.

But maybe you can bait him. You go on the attack now, whiffing a couple of good punches and sending a straight kick right at his jaw that he barely dodges. While you’re recovering, before your foot is even planted back on the mat, Bucky does exactly what you want him to do. He slides up with a fist and you feign a misstep, ducking right. His follow-through is too heavy and you grab his wrist, locking it in your grasp, and then your heel goes straight into his abdomen, right under his center of gravity.

He goes down and you relish in the moment his eyes blow wide with the shock of being caught off guard. You scramble on top of him but he rocks his hips up and starts to roll you both until you’re underneath him. In retaliation, you lock one foot around his calf and use your other knee to jab his stomach, and then you roll him underneath you instead. Your forearm presses against his neck, legs squeezing his middle.

God, he’s fucking pretty, his blue eyes all big and pants falling out of his pink lips. Sweat is dripping from his hairline and rolling off the bridge of his nose and it pleases you, the fact that you made Bucky Barnes bust his ass in a fight. You know you have to look like a drowned dog by now, so how the fuck is he still so pretty? For that, you press down on his throat harder until he taps the mat—a yield.

Immediately you’re off him, panting as you lean against the ropes, but a shit-eating grin is plastered on your face. Bucky looks anywhere but you, wiping his damp face on his shirt, which gives you the most perfect flash of his carved abs.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “we can agree to disagree, right?”

He stares at you for a hard moment, a longer moment than he has before, and you swallow as desire crawls up your spine. Then, Bucky ducks under the ropes, grabs his towel, and gets the hell out of dodge.

“Fuck you too, Barnes!” you shout, and you know he must’ve heard you.

He helps you walk off the quinjet and you hate literally every second of every moment that you have to have his arm wrapped around your waist. Mostly because you’re pissed at him and you hate being babied, but also because god, you can imagine Bucky holding you like this in a different context way better than you should be able to.

Those thoughts are the demons in your brain and you need someone to exorcise you. Probably Natasha. No, Natasha will make fun of you. Wanda, then.

As soon as you’re out of the hangar, Bucky asks FRIDAY if there’s anyone in the medbay, and your neck about snaps in half from how fast you turn.

“No,” you say. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to medical.”

He cuts you a glare. “As if you have a say in it.”

“I do have a say! It’s my body! This is the twenty-first century, Barnes. My body, my choice!”

“You’re injured,” he grits through his teeth. “We’re going to medbay.”

“I don’t need to go!” You start dragging your heels, trying to make yourself heavier, but Bucky is a super soldier and probably throws mack trucks for a living or something. “You stitched me up! The burns aren’t that bad, either. I’m fine, I’m not going to medical.”

“God, can you ever give me a break?” he groans. “Why are you always so fucking difficult?”

“I’m not being difficult!” you snarl, trying to push away from him, but his grip tightens. “Why the fuck do you care so much?”

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, maybe I am, since I don’t know why the fuck you give two shits about saving my quote-unquote dumbass who almost got us both killed, and I don’t know why the fuck you care about getting me to medical when you’re gonna bench me anyway! Right, thanks a lot Barnes, I’m so stupid for not fucking figuring it out!”

“You are!” he roars, and then your back is against the wall, his hand cushioning your head from hitting it. He corners you there, covering your body with his, ducking down so your mouths are so close you would only need to reach up a little to kiss him, and god, that’s tempting.

Not tempting enough when you’re this pissed off, though.

“So that’s what it is, huh? You just think I’m some stupid, incapable little girl who is so impractical because all she wants to do is save lives? You think I’m so stupid that I don’t know that people are going to die? And they’re going to die because I can’t save them? Maybe you should think about how I could never live with myself if I didn’t do everything possible to save them, so I risk my life to get them to safety. I would never ever risk yours, you stupid, arrogant, ignorant—”

Oh, Jesus.

His lips are hot when they crash against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. It’s desperate, the kind of kiss you’ve never had before. It’s so desperate and you want to pull away and ask him, Bucky, what are you so desperate for? He kisses you like he wants to keep you, his mouth swallowing yours like he can’t get enough of you. It’s hungry and begging and you don’t ever want it to stop, your teeth nipping blood from his bottom lip as if it’ll stop him from leaving, but he pulls away, leaving you breathless anyway.

“You’re stupid,” he repeats again and you watch his tongue dart out to taste the blood you’ve ripped from his skin. It sends a thrill of pleasure through you. “You’re so stupid.”

And he kisses you again and you decide that sure, maybe you’re stupid, you’ll be stupid all day long because he’s going to kiss you stupid.

It’s your hands that move first, you realize in some random corner of your mind. Your fingers twine in his brown locks, tugging the hair tie away and flinging it somewhere. Vaguely, you realize you’re still in the middle of the hallway, on the way to the elevator, but you don’t give a shit. The hand that isn’t twisting Bucky’s scalp finds the material of his tac-suit and starts pulling at all the straps and buckles, searching for a sliver of his hot skin in any capacity.

His own hand, the one not holding the back of your head, skims over your waist and flutters down your uninjured hip, grasping at the flesh underneath your suit. Suddenly, you’re overcome with the need to get these fucking clothes off, and immediately, and you break the kiss so you can suck down air and ask the man you’ve been hating, been pining after, to take you to bed.

As you do, Bucky trails a hot path of sloppy kisses down your chin, over your jaw, against your neck, until he finds the juncture of your shoulder and attaches his teeth there, nibbling on a patch of skin that is so distracting you forget about your question for a minute. And then your fingers run over a rough spot on his suit and you remember.

“Bucky,” you gasp out, and it sounds so heady that you nearly throw your head back. “Bucky,” you repeat, more urgently, when he doesn’t let up, your hand is tightening on his sleeve and tugging on it.

His head snaps up now, eyes piercing yours, concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks, moving your hair away from your face to look closer at you.

“Bed,” you rasp out, but barely. “Now, please.”

He doesn’t move for a second, just staring at you like he’s scared, like he’s surprised you would ask. You see his eyes sort of glaze over, a reminder of the nightmares he’s seen, the nightmares he replays over and over in his head, but you’re selfish and your core is pulsing with a heat you’ve never felt this hot before and you need him here, not wherever his mind is taking him.

“Please, Bucky,” you say, and he blinks, and then he’s present again.

“Anything for you, doll,” he whispers, and your legs nearly collapse beneath you at the thought. Bucky scoops you into his arms carefully, trying not to jostle your wound too much, and then he sweeps you into the elevator and you’re speeding toward his room and hoping to god that Steve isn’t prowling around.

In a haze of kissing and excitement, you barely recognize that Bucky’s opening his door until it’s closed behind you and he’s walking you through his room and to his bed.

God, you’ve wanted to be in his bed for so fucking long.

He drops you among the sheets gently, so starkly different from the harsh tone of his voice only a few minutes earlier when he was yelling at you, and you’re not sure what you like better. You want Bucky to fuck you, to rip you in half and put you back together like he always does. But you want him, so badly, to make love to you just as much, but you’d never admit that to him.

Bucky’s kissing you so sweetly now, and then his kisses get more forceful, more needy, and you suck on his tongue until he’s panting above you. His hands are everywhere, sliding over your suit, unstrapping and unzipping and unbuckling all your gear, and your hands fumble in tune with his, trying to help him get you out of your clothes.

Just before he takes off your vest, he kisses you and asks, “Is this okay?”

You rip the vest off yourself, sitting up on your elbows to rip your undershirt off with it, leaving you in a black sports bra.

And you revel in the way Bucky stares at this new flesh. His lips find your sweaty skin, covering every inch that’s been revealed now as your fingers start taking his tac-suit apart the way he did yours. Soon, you’re frustrated, and you whine and pull at it until he huffs a laugh and takes it off himself. His vest gets thrown to the side and his tank top follows, leaving him bare-chested.

Your fingers are shaky as they touch his tanned skin and you almost laugh at how nervous you are. You’ve spent so long looking at him, hating him, wanting him, and now you have this stretch of his wide chest in front of you and all you can do is let your fingertips glide over him, mouth parted, eyes hazy.

His pupils are blown wide, too, and Bucky takes your hand in his and presses it against him harder, and suddenly you’re feral.

Your hands slide over every part of him, taking in the expanse of him. His biceps, his strong shoulders, the hard planes of his body. As gentle as possible, you trail your fingers closer and closer to the scar where metal meets flesh, and you glance up at him, a silent question, and when he gives you the smallest nod, you smooth over the gnarled rift of skin. You don’t ask if it hurts. He gives no indication that it does. And when you reach up to press a soft kiss to it, he shudders above you.

“Please,” he whispers, so quietly. “Let me touch you, doll.”

You lay back and start to unstrap your holsters, gesturing for Bucky to help you with your pants. He unlaces your boots for you as you throw your weapons to the ground, the clink of belts and buckles mingling in the silence, a song that ignites the excitement inside of you.

Your core is molten lava, the apex of your thighs dripping and Bucky hasn’t even touched the most intimate parts of you yet. Every single fiber of your being is trembling in anticipation, and in your hurry to strip your pants off, a twinge of pain shoots through you as you bend the wrong way, stitches pulling.

Bucky curses—like he’s the one who’s hurt you and you aren’t the idiot trying to rip her pants off—and just like he can flip the switch on his attitude, he flips the switch on this, too. He’s off of you before you realize, sitting back on his haunches, staring down at you in panic.

“I’m—Baby,” he breathes, voice shaking. “I'm sorry.”

His hands are outstretched, reaching for you, trembling as he swallows hard. You watch as his eyes shift in the space between your face and the white gauze wrapped around the bullet wound in your side.

“Bucky,” you hiss and grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him down. He doesn’t budge, not much at least, but you meet him the rest of the way and your lips collide with his in a thunderous crash, and like instinct, he kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Doll,” he mumbles against your mouth and you drink the word from his tongue, distracting him. “We can’t.”

“We can,” you growl back, teeth reminding him of the pulsing ache between your thighs. In search of more, your hips roll up and meet his own, causing a groan to tumble out of his mouth into your own.

Fuck the pain—you’ll grit your teeth and bear it. This is the only moment you’ll ever have him, and by god, you need him.

Your hands return to your pants. “Help me,” you plead, breathless, unable to shimmy out of them. Bucky’s already pulled your boots off, socks coming with them, and his fingers find the heated flesh right beneath your waistband.

“Are you sure?”

All you can do is whine his name until he understands, and then Bucky is peeling your black pants from your legs, the rush of cool air rolling over your hot skin feeling almost as good as his hands are going to feel if he’ll just put them on you.

When his palms finally fall upon your thighs, rough and calloused and big and warm, you need much more, so much more. The way he trails his fingers down your knees, caressing your calves, brushing atop your ankle, and then coming back up to have his thumbs follow the ridge of muscles in your thighs, it all makes you shiver in pleasure. You’re so hot, sweat pooling in the small of your back against the bed, the dampness of your core becoming harder to ignore.

You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache and Bucky notices—of course he notices—and his mouth finds your neck again, sucking until dark bruises begin to mar your skin, until you’re bowing off the bed, arching toward him, trying to get something, anything. Anything from him.

At some point, you realize he’s just torturing you on purpose, letting his hands roam the stretch of your stomach, smooth over the hills of your hips, and then draw down your legs until you’re shaking as he kisses you so softly, and then so roughly, like he can’t decide if he wants to grow old with you or if he wants to ruin you for whoever comes after him.

You sit up and reach around, fingers intent on unclasping your bra, but Bucky stops you with a nip at your bottom lip.

“Will you let me?” he asks, so sweetly. Bucky’s hand finds yours and bats them away, his fingers on the hooks as he waits for your answer.

“Yes,” you moan as his other hand tickles down the curve of your side. “God, please, yes.”

“Bucky,” he says, smirking against the side of your neck.

“Shut up and undress me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, when you ask so sweet like that, baby.”

With a quiet click, your bra comes undone and Bucky pulls it away from your body, and then your breasts are bare before his eyes. Now, it’s your turn to be doused in ice, to freeze, for the switch to flip.

You feel shy beneath his gaze, the way he looks at your nearly naked body with such reverence, as though this is the moment he’s been waiting for. Your knees close and your elbows draw in over your chest without your permission. It’s not like you want to hide from him, but he looks so perfect atop you, so beautiful in every single facet, better than any dream you’ve ever had of him, and you can’t stop yourself.

What have the other girls looked like underneath him? Better than you, surely. Prettier, skinnier, smaller, sexier. For fuck’s sake, you’ve got a nasty burn on the side of your leg and were shot through your left side only a few hours ago, your middle wrapped in medical tape. You can’t be that pretty a picture.

You’ve had your shot at him and you’re gonna lose it.

But when you look up, Bucky’s looking at you like you’re everything. His face is flushed, red creeping down his neck, and his eyes are soft, hazy, glassy. Gently, his fingers find your jaw and cup your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Let me look at you, baby.” His voice is almost as rough as the worn skin of his hand, dry and gravelly and thick with lust. When Bucky moves to grasp your wrists, you let your eyes flutter closed and nod, allowing him to peel your arms away from where they hide you, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes.

“God,” his voice shudders. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. I couldn’t have dreamed you up if I tried, and I promise you, I tried.”

Your eyes fly open at this. “What?”

If it bothers him, he doesn’t act like it. Bucky leans down to nuzzle his nose against your collarbone, kissing and licking your skin like he’s making constellations out of your body—bruises connected only by his tongue.

“I’ve thought about this since the day you kicked my ass in the ring.” He sounds like he’s reciting a prayer, all whispered desires. “Your perfect lips, what they’d feel like, how soft they are. If you’d touch my scars, and how your fingers would feel on them all if you did.”

His mouth closes over the mound of your breast, the clash of tongue and teeth upon your nipple forcing you to arch into him in pleasure. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and you aren’t quite aware that you’re even whining until his free hand crawls up from your hip and cups your other breast, thumb strumming over your peaked nipple. The breathy moans that pour from your mouth fill the room and only seem to make Bucky work faster, work harder, as he drags every drop of pleasure out of you with every instrument he has. Your hips buck up and into his, your thinly-clothed core catching the tent in his pants—his tac-suit, you realize, is still on—and it makes you both groan in a symphony of need.

“Need you,” you somehow manage to get out between your heavy panting, hips still searching for something to relieve the ache in your center. “Bucky, please.”

He releases your nipple from his lips, the chill assaulting the wet bud making you bow from the bed once again. Bucky places a kiss on the other, letting his tongue lave over it until it's just as wet and hard.

“I imagined what you’d sound like,” he says against your stomach, punctuating his words with a smattering of kisses across your skin. “Thought about what you’d—fuck, baby—I thought so much about how you’d look beneath me all spread out, just for me.”

The sound you make in reply is almost embarrassing as how soaked your panties are.

“Wondered how you’d taste.” He lets his tongue drag across the hem of your underwear and you press up, trying to get his mouth closer, but his hands settle on your hips and gently hold you to the bed.

“Bucky!” you try and growl, but it comes out an octave too high. “Please!”

“What is it, babydoll?” His fingers curl underneath, thumbs riding the line of skin just beneath your panties.

“I need you!” You throw your head back against the pillow. “I’ve thought about it too,” you admit, breathing hard. “How you’d touch me like this, how you’d feel inside me, please, so please just—I need you, Bucky.”

“You got me, baby,” he says and it sounds so fucking beautiful. “I’m right here. I got you, doll. Gonna take care of you, okay? Will you let me give you what you need?”

You answer by trying to press your hips up again, and Bucky shifts until his hands are cupping your ass and he drags you down the bed, closer to him, closer to his own hips where you can feel the bulge of his cock begging to be released.

“Your pants,” you remind him, wrapping your uninjured leg around the back of his thigh. “I want to feel you, please, Bucky.”

“Okay, doll,” he says, laying a kiss just above your panty line again, and then he’s pulling away and you whine despite it.

You listen as Bucky fiddles with his gear, going through the same motions as you had to go through earlier. The clink of his knives, the buckles of his holsters, the heavy soles of his boots as he throws them off. When you sit up, Bucky is standing in his black boxers, the faint light streaming into his room highlighting the shine of the scars that cover his body.

He looks as breathless, as flustered, as aroused as you feel. His hair is mussed from your hands, falling over his shoulder in the thick waves that feel so soft between your fingers. The lust is evident in the way his eyes roam over your body, his pupils blown wide, and then he’s moving toward you and fitting himself between your legs on the bed.

Bucky slides his hands over your heated skin yet again, a reminder of how much he wants you, how much he loves the feel of you, before his fingers hook inside your panties and begin to pull them down. Before he gets too far, he stops again, gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“Is this alright?” he asks.

You nod, lifting your hips as carefully as possible in order to keep from jostling your wound, and Bucky slips the last piece of clothing from your body. You hope, fucking christ you hope, he doesn’t realize how soaked they are when he peels them off, but maybe that’s a lost cause.

Because as soon as you’re naked, your glistening core bare to his eyes alone, all bets are off. There are no more barriers, nothing for you to hide behind, no sharp words to keep your feelings at bay.

His fingers skim over your lips, collecting all the honey you’ve made for him as his knees widen to spread your thighs. The simple movement has your hips rolling already in search of more, whimpers falling from your mouth as Bucky stares at your naked form beneath him. Eyes lidded, you watch as he brings his fingers, wet with your juices, up to his mouth.

“Shit, doll,” he curses. Bucky’s tongue envelops his digits and he groans at the taste, sending shocks like a fucking earthquake through your body, through your bones, straight to your core.

He moves closer to you, sliding your thighs onto his shoulder and locking his metal arm around the top of your hips, far enough away from your wound that it doesn’t hurt. Bucky peppers kisses along your inner thighs, biting and sucking in intervals that has you pressing your mound to him, begging for more.

“You taste so good,” he mumbles, breath ghosting over your quivering pussy, pulling a wanton whine from your throat. “Will you let me taste you, baby?”

“God, yes, please Bucky,  please, I need it so bad.” The words are frantic, strangled, a mess of moans of breathless gasping.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

And then his mouth is on you, hot and slick upon hot and slick, his tongue parting the valley of your lips and delving into your dripping center like he’s a man starved and you’re the first meal he’s tasted in years. You keen in pleasure, thrashing your head against the pillows until your hair is a tangled mess as Bucky’s tongue flattens on your clit, licking a wide path until it’s well-traveled and your hips stutter, held back only by the cooled metal on your heated skin. Your hands find purchase in his hair, fingers tugging at his scalp, and the motion makes him groan into you.

You call his name like it’s the only word you know, chanting it over and over like it’s a spell similar to the one he’s weaving with his tongue upon your aching clit. He doesn’t let up, tracing words you can’t make out and drinking in all the wetness flooding his mouth. The gentle scratch of his wiry beard burns just right, contrasting with the curls of pleasure coming from your sensitive clit. Without realizing, you grind your core against Bucky’s mouth, the friction only serving to make you into a trembling mess, your insides throbbing with a need to be filled, pussy clenching around nothing.

As if he feels you, Bucky slides his free hand over your leg and to the apex of your thighs, the first thick finger entering you slowly, like he’s testing the waters. You cry out, begging for more, and Bucky relents. His second finger follows as his tongue continues to lap at your pussy, letting you gyrate against his face as you try to fuck yourself on his hand.

“Bucky,” you pant, each letter of his name a stutter with moans, “please!”

“Please what, babydoll?” His voice sends another wave of arousal through you, juices slicking his fingers up more than before. Your stomach is tightening, pleasure in tight curls between your legs, center so close to snapping that tears are beginning to leak from your eyes because Bucky won’t fucking let you move your hips in the way that you want. He chuckles against your pussy, breath teasing over you, vibrations making you quiver.

“I’m gonna—”

Bucky curls his fingers inside of you, stroking your spot, just as his mouth envelops your clit in its heat and he sucks, hard, and the thin thread coiling in your core snaps and you come apart, harder, and a scream tears itself from your throat as warm tears fall into your hairline.

He never stops. As his suckling turns into kitten licks upon your clit, his third finger breaches your opening and slips inside, pumping into you as you ride your orgasm out on his hand. Your hand is tight in his hair until it all becomes too much and it falls to cover your mouth, your teeth finding your knuckle to bite back the sound of your moans.

“Oh no, baby, no,” Bucky says, and when you look down, he’s between your legs, watching you in the aftershocks of your pleasure. His fingers leave your pussy and you clench around nothing, a whine leaving your lips at the emptiness, until Bucky’s metal fingers are pulling your hand away from your face.

“I gotta hear you,” he whispers, the hand covered in your nectar finding your mouth. “Need to hear all those pretty little noises you’re making, baby. I’ve dreamed about ‘em. Would get my cock all hard thinking about ‘em. You gotta keep making ‘em ‘cause now that I’ve heard ‘em, I can’t get enough, babydoll.”

When he moves to trace your bottom lip, red and swollen from his own, your tongue darts out to taste the salt and sin on the pad of his thumb. Bucky places his fingers at your parted lips and you suck them into your mouth, licking all the juice from his skin, tongue swirling around his digits. You wonder if his lips taste like this, too.

He groans as he watches you, his eyes lidded and hazy and lovely, and then his metal hand finds the waistband of his boxers and yanks them off his hips. In one perfect movement, his cock slaps against his stomach, hot and red and already leaking, which makes you flush at the fact that Bucky liked making you come.

Subconsciously, your tongue snakes out to lick your lips as you take in the length, the thickness of his cock, and Bucky gets that familiar look on his face—cocky, smirking, knowing that he’s pushing your limits. He presses you back down upon the bed, his arms bracketing your head as his nose brushes against yours, his heat pressing into the subtle dip where your hip and thigh meet.

The feeling of his cock, hard and heavy against your naked skin, sends you into a frenzy of arousal, of want, of need. You reach out and take him into your hand, your thumb brushing over the velvet head and smearing his precum along his length. Bucky’s jaw tightens, muscle twitching, as you pump your fist around him and drag your fingers along the blue vein riding up the underside. The groan that falls from his lips, the stutter and jerk of his hips, the way he shakes above you is addicting, and Bucky has to pull your wrist away from his cock in order to stop you from getting him off just like that.

“Baby,” he breathes, resting his sweaty forehead against yours.

“Bucky, please,” you beg again. “Please, I need you inside me.”

“You want me?” he asks, and even though his voice is scratchy and thick with desire, he says it like he’s surprised. As if you could never want him.

You’ve always wanted him.

“Yes, god, Bucky. I want you,” you moan, threading your fingers into his hair to smash your lips together in a sharp, bruising kiss. “I need you,” you say against his mouth. “I need you so, so bad.”

“I need you too, babydoll. Need to feel you,” he says, the sound strained, almost like he can’t stay away from you any longer. You feel it too, the ache without him, the way your pussy clenches in anticipation for him.

The head of Bucky’s cock nudges at your entrance and your slick coats him. The soft skin of him brushes your over-sensitive clit and you keen, and he does it again, and again, until you’re shaking, until you wrap your ankles around Bucky’s back and pull him into you, raising your hips to meet his.

“You want this?” His voice is heavy when he asks.

“Yes,” you moan out, rocking against him.

He says your name and it sounds pained on his tongue. “Are you sure?”

“James.” Your teeth snap and gnash on his name, and it awakens something within him that sets every place he touches you ablaze with a new sensation, and Bucky enters you with a slow thrust of his hips. 

And it feels so fucking good.

Like straining a muscle you haven’t used in a while, it aches as he enters while you stretch to accommodate his size. The way his cock feels inside of you—touching you in places you never thought you’d be touched, filling you in a way you never thought you’d be filled.

He’s finally, finally yours. If just for this moment, Bucky Barnes is yours.

Your nails incise his back, making new marks among the sea of scarring he’s suffered, as you cling to his body in any way to feel him closer to you. Bucky leaves kisses on every surface of your face, your jawline, your neck. He kisses you everywhere and you wish you could tattoo the feeling into your skin.

“Are you alright?” he mumbles faintly into your neck and you can feel how hard he’s trying not to move, not to hurt you, to give you time to adjust to him. Your fingers trail up and down his spine, drifting into his hair, scratching against his scalp.

“Yes,” you hiss, undulating your hips and making a similar sound fall from his lips. “Bucky, please.”

You don’t know how many iterations of that same phrase you’ve said all night, but you’ll keep saying it, over and over, if he’ll take you like this. Just like this, with his arms trapping your body to the bed, his hips flush against yours, panting above you as he stares into your eyes all lustful and dark and wanting. He smells like the Bucky you’re so familiar with, your partner, Barnes, gunpowder and explosions and blood, with the clean scent of whatever deodorant he uses. If he’ll keep you like this, where you can pretend your his for this moment, you’ll say it over and over

Bucky, please—Bucky, please—Bucky, please—please—please—

When he finally moves, thrusting into your heat with a growl, it feels like time stops.

Bucky fucks you like he loves you, slow and steady, pumping into you fully and deeply until you lose your mind. He fucks you like he wants to ravage you, fast and quick and hard as he holds your hips to keep you steady, and you ignore the dull pain that flares up in your side because he’s fucking you like he needs you, like he can’t exist without you. He fucks you like he’ll never get another chance to touch you. When he fucks you like this, his thrusts falling out of rhythm, out of time, he rests his forehead against yours and you lean up to capture his mouth with yours, tongues sliding over one another sloppily.

The heat is building up inside of you again, and when Bucky lifts your hips and drapes you over his knees, pressing you up with his metal arm, his cock hits the spot inside you that makes you scream over and over. The waves are cresting. The crescendo is approaching. Every grunt and groan he makes mingles with your moans and shrieking pleasure, and it’s all going to culminate into one big moment, you can feel it.

Bucky pulls back to slip his hand between your bodies, sweaty and hot, and his thumb presses gently into your clit. With one sharp thrust, your body arches off the bed as you snap, screaming his name, and Bucky holds you through it.

Your vision goes black—you aren’t sure if it's because your eyes are screwed shut in pleasurable pain or if it's because you’ve passed out. Bucky’s hips jerk wildly into yours and you tighten the grip you have around his waist with your legs, digging your heels into the small of his strong back.

“So tight,” he hisses into your ear. “So fucking wet, baby. Feel so fucking right, made for me, aren’t you doll?”

“Yes, James,” you moan out as you ride the waves of your orgasm. “Made for you!”

Bucky works at your clit again as his rhythm starts to fail, and even with how sensitive you are, you feel the pleasure curling inside you again, hot inside your stomach. You clench and jolt whenever his cock hits the right angle, and all of a sudden, you’re on the edge yet again.

“I can’t,” you cry out, nearly a sob lost to the sound of his hips snapping against yours.

“You can,” he says, so gently. “You can, baby, just for me. You said so, right?”

How is he still talking? For fuck’s sake, your tongue feels like its detached from your mouth and all you can muster are the moans and whines that come from the back of your throat Bucky is forcing out of you.

“Come with me,” you beg, you plead. “Please James, please, come with me.”

“Baby—”

You break apart silently, clinging to his body, holding him to you as every fiber of your being is torn into pieces, shattered. As your pussy clenches and spasms around him, Bucky stutters in his thrusts and you pull him into you, willing him to fall over the edge with you, and he follows dutifully.

He groans out your name as he comes inside of you, liquid heat searing the deepest part of you. Falling back against the pillows, you whisper his name and drag him with you, mouth meeting his for one last clumsy, haphazard kiss. Bucky stills inside of you, still throbbing, and then he whispers something against your lips.

“I love you.”

You freeze, eyes wide, and Bucky pulls away from your embrace to look at you.

“What?” you ask, swallowing thickly. “What did you say?”

“I—” He looks nervous now, but his blue eyes are so fucking sincere. “I’m—I’m so sorry, fuck.”

Bucky moves to pull out of you, to leave, but you tighten your legs around his hips and trap him against you. The cocky smirk he wears, the confident smile, even the look of desire he wore while fucking you—it’s all gone. Left in its wake is the ashamed look Bucky wears that makes him seem small, and you want to smooth it away until he looks at you like he wants you again. Like he wants you to be his. 

Like he loves you.

“Why are you sorry?” you ask him, stroking a hand through his hair.

“Because—fuck—this wasn’t supposed to happen.” He glances away from you and glares at the floor and a heartbreaking pain shoots through you. Now, he pulls out of you, shifting to get off the bed and clean up, but you can’t stop the words before they tumble out.

“You didn’t want me?”

“What?” Bucky turns and cups your face in his hand, searching your eyes for something, and his thumb wipes away a stray tear you didn’t realize had fallen. 

Oh fuck, here it comes. He told you he loved you in a fit of passion and now you’re the stupid, clingy girl that he needs to leave behind. You’re partners, first and foremost, and you shouldn’t have forgotten that.

But god, he made you feel like you were his, and you wanted that so bad. You want it so fucking bad.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, voice shaking and you wonder if you mean it. “I know I’m stupid, and I know you hate me, and I know it was just sex—”

“Baby, no, please.” Bucky brings your face to his and kisses you softly, sweetly, like he adores you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry because someone like me shouldn’t love someone like you. God, I shouldn’t love someone as perfect as you. I can’t have you, doll. And I’m sorry.”

Oh. Bucky does love you.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

You surge up and slant your mouth over his, hand gripping the back of his neck to pull him down, fingers twining in the fine hairs where his scalp meets his skin. In this one kiss, you pour everything you think you can into it, everything you feel now, everything you’ve felt since you met him, everything you’ve ever felt at every moment you’ve shared with him.

“I love you,” you say when you pull away. “I love you so much, Bucky. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

His eyes are so wide, so afraid, so confused.

“You do?”

“I do,” you tell him. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long, Bucky Barnes, you stupid man.”

You expect him to kiss you now, but he doesn’t. Instead, Bucky cradles your head in his hand and pulls you to his chest, embracing you in his warm arms. He rolls onto the bed, carefully lifting you until you’re situated on top of him, where you wrap your limbs around him and lay upon his warm body. Bucky lays kisses on the crown of your hair, holding you so tightly against him you think you might suffocate.

“I’ve loved you since the day you kicked my ass, doll,” he admits. You laugh.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you,” he says. “I hated that you would sacrifice yourself for others. I still hate it. It’s why you got hurt today and god, the threat of losing you, it scares me doll. I didn’t know what I would do if you died right there in my arms and I never got the chance to tell you all this.”

You glance up at him, at his beautiful face and his beautiful eyes, the man who you hated and who you wanted and who you love. God, you really do love him.

“I’m not going to leave you,” you whisper, pressing an awkward kiss to his bare chest. “Now that I have you, I could never leave you.”

He laughs at that. “Babydoll, you’ve always had me. I can’t believe you never knew.”

You think back to all the times he’s looked at you, dopey grins and cocky smiles and coy glances. You think about how long you’ve leaned on each other in the two years you’ve been partners, how he’s the only person you’ve ever trusted with your life, how you always work to come back to him. You think about the butterflies that stirred in your stomach the first time you met him, when he shook your hand and gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, the same smile he has plastered on his face right now as looks down at you.

Sitting up, you look at Bucky Barnes, chin resting in your palm lazily.

“Maybe I’ve always known,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I did, too.”

[emptyacnt]

Made for love (Sanemi x F! Reader) NSFW

Minors DNI!

The battle was over. His brother was dead. Sanemi now had no one, he had no family, he didn't even have a reason to be a swordsman anymore. He wanted to retire comfortably, but how could he when fighting was the only thing he could ever do right. He moved. Away from where demon slayer headquarters had once been to a small home several days walk away. In the mornings he would sit on his porch and watch the sun rise, and allow himself to cry. It seemed no matter how many mornings this happened, he always had more tears. Tears he had been holding in his entire life.

One day as he did this, he heard a strange rustling noise and instinctively his hand went to the sword at his hip. He couldn't bring himself to stop carrying it for the comfort it brought him. He was surprised to see a large yellow and white dog bound towards him, it's mouth open and tongue lolling out, tail wagging furiously.

"A.. dog?" He said, reaching out his hand as the dog approached him, barking a friendly hello as he nuzzled against Sanemi's hands.

"Are you lost?" He asked. Around the dog's neck was a red collar with a bell and a name tag.

"Hacchan, that you?" He asked. Hacchan barked in response.

"Hacchan! Hacchan!!" A distinctly female voice cried as you came running up the path, chasing Hacchan who had broken away from you to chase an interesting scent. That scent had been Sanemi.

"I'm so sorry sir!" You apologized, bowing deeply.

"It's alright. I like dogs." Sanemi replied, scratching behind Hacchan's fuzzy ears.

"Did you just move here?" He asked, furiously wiping his face to make sure you didn't notice a single tear.

"Yes, we did! Just down the road. Hacchan was friends with all my neighbors back then, I guess he's lonely now with just me.." You said sadly.

"Why'd you move?" Sanemi asked. You hesitated to reply.

"You don't gotta tell me if you don't wanna." He said, shrugging.

"I had been engaged. My fiance imagined I was cheating on him, I wasn't, but he told everyone I did. I was shunned and we had to move." You confessed. Hacchan, sensing your sadness, came to press himself against your side.

"He sounds like a cunt." Sanemi said simply.

You were shocked by his vulgarity.

"What about you? Why did you move out here?" You asked.

"I was a swordsman. But now I guess. I'm just a man." Sanemi said. The sorrow in his voice was so heavy it made you want to cry.

From that day forward Hacchan insisted on visiting Sanemi every morning on your walks, and you began bringing him gifts. When you made dinner in the evening you always brought him a portion the next time you saw him. If you bought tea, you bought enough to share. While Sanemi didn't seem to react one way or the other to this, it certainly didn't go unnoticed. And finally one morning when you were about to turn to continue your walk with Hacchan, he reached out and grabbed your hand.

"Marry me." He said. It wasn't a question, more of a demand. He felt ready to begin the next chapter of his life, to take a wife, to start a family.

You and Hacchan moved in with him shortly after. Though even after living with him for three months, he would never say he loved you and you still hadn't slept together. Finally you got fed up with this, wondering why he asked you to move in with him if he didn't intend to act like a couple with you. He was sitting on your shared futon reading and you settled yourself onto his lap. He looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Sanemi, do you love me?" You asked.

Sanemi didn't reply. He seemed to be thinking for a long time.

"I don't know. I want to love you. I can't tell. The only people I have ever truly loved are dead. Perhaps if I let myself love you, you will die too. Or maybe, I am simply not built to love." He said, an edge of anger in his voice. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing his head against your soft chest.

"Of course you are built for love, everyone is!" You said. Sanemi made a strange almost growl as he pushed himself away from you, tearing open your yukata. He ripped the fabric off of your shoulders, exposing your breasts and completely tearing your obi in half. You had never experienced strength like that, and you sat there stunned on his lap, almost completely exposed to him.

"How can you say that? My hands are trained to kill demons and that's it, I'm not good at anything else, I don't know how to make them do anything else, I only know how to destroy." He said, his voice cracking under the weight of tears that wouldn't come.

"You are made for love. You can do more than destroy." You said, quietly but sternly nonetheless. You took his hands, so much larger and rougher than yours, pressing them against your breasts. Your nipples, already hard, pressed against the palms of his hands and he groaned as he felt his cock beginning to harden.

"You can be gentle." You said, leaning forward to kiss him as you moved his hands in slow circles on your breasts. Sanemi stared at your chest when you broke the kiss, flexing his fingers as he groped and kneaded you, pinching and twisting your nipples.

"A-ah! Gentle!" You said.

Sanemi grunted in reply and leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he bit it, but before you could scold him he was suckling and licking it with perfect gentleness. His hands slid the remains of your yukata off and then snaked up and down your body, rubbing your back, your arms, your hips and ass. He finally released your breast and looked up at you.

"You're so damn soft. Squishy, warm.." He mused, hugging you so he could feel your breasts press up against his scarred chest.

“Wanna know what you feel like in here..” he said, brushing two of his calloused fingers against your cunt. He pushed your panties aside, swirling his fingertips around your entrance.

“Already wet, huh?” he said, smirking at you.

“Well I.. Love you a lot Nemi.. I’ve wanted to be with you for a while..” you confessed.

Sanemi looked up at you, placing a rough hand on your cheek.

"I love you." He said. It hurt him to say it. The only people he had ever said that to were dead. You noticed how he seemed to become lost in thought, or dragged away from this moment by some painful distant memory.

“Stay here, with me.” you said gently as you kissed him.

Sanemi tangled his fingers into your hair, kissing you deeply while he shoved two fingers into you, curling them against your g-spot roughly. You gasped and arched your back, and Sanemi held you close, pressing you to him.

"Tell me how it feels." he growled against your neck, reaching his free hand down to untie his hakama, reaching into them to stroke himself.

"Feels good.." you managed between soft moans.

"Your fingers are rough b-but, it feels good.."

Sanemi deftly flipped you over, pressing your legs to your chest as he kissed you gently. His body was so warm and strong, your eyes fluttered shut as you enjoyed the comfort of being so close to him, until he shoved himself into you in one hard thrust. You gasped as your eyes flew open. Sanemi fucked you slowly, painfully slowly. Dragging his cock out slow and pushing it back in all the way to your cervix.

"N-Nemi, faster please!" you begged, holding onto his biceps tightly.

"Faster? I thought you wanted me to be gentle." he said, his tone teasing and sarcastic.

"Sanemi please, you feel so good-" you gasped as he picked up his pace immediately, ruthlessly pounding you into the futon.

"You feel so fucking good baby.." he growled.

"Tight, so warm.." he said, he grunted with practically every thrust, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the feeling of your slick walls around him.

"I should've done this a long time ago.." he said, licking your neck before biting it hard. Any wish you had for him to be gentle with you was gone.

"I-I wanted you to!" you managed, words becoming more and more difficult as your climax approached.

"Yeah? Did you want me to just force you down and dominate this little cunt?" he asked you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back as the lewdness of his words pushed you over the edge. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your mouth.

"Lemme hear you, you're gonna make me cum.." he said as he fucked you even harder, a punishing pace as you gushed around him. You were nearly screaming by now, unable to even continue holding onto his arms as your body trembled. The sight of you so completely destroyed because of him, and only him, made him finally climax. You could feel his release, his hot cum filling you up as he let out a feral growl. He stayed inside of you for a while after he finished, panting against your neck.

"I love you." he said breathlessly, kissing your cheek gently.

"I love you too, Nemi." you said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

[justasimptm]

The Bride C11

The next few minutes are a blur of screaming and begging that comes to a head when Heisenberg tosses her to the ground next to me. He hisses something at her that makes her whimper, but he doesn't give her a chance to respond before he grabs her arm and slices a quick line right under her elbow. The smell of fresh blood assaults my senses and within seconds I’ve latched on to her, sinking my teeth into her soft skin. Whether by sheer force or the sharpness of my teeth I don’t know, but biting into her is as easy as biting into a sandwich, minor resistance, high reward. The responses are immediate-she yells and tries to pull away, the sound is stifled in seconds by Heisenberg grabbing her face and holding his hand over her mouth, his other arm grabbing around her middle and forcing her to keep still. The flow of blood is steady despite her struggles, strong swallows forcing it down into my gut, warmth spreading through me.

She tastes like cinnamon and citrus, tastes alive and so so good. Part of me knows I could stop now, that I don’t have to keep drinking. I can already feel myself recovering, feel the odd tugging as my body regenerates around the wound, the stinging as it drives out the poison that was killing me, the small popping as it comes out in the form of small crystal shards. However, fair is fair. She was going to kill me, damn near succeeded. The least I can do is return the favor, so I keep drinking, gulping down the thing that sustains us both.

Keep going even as her fighting gets weaker and her arm starts getting cold. Keep going until she stops resisting and even moments after that when her body falls fully limp and there’s nothing more than drops left in her veins. Only then do I let go, letting myself flop back to the ground, sated and full of energy, my wound closed.

“Do you need more?” Heisenberg asks, tossing her now empty body to the side without a second thought and hoisting me up so I’m sitting, but leaning against his chest to keep me stable. The concern in his voice is kind, a nice contrast from the rough sound of his voice. Through my gluttonous daze I smile at him, the voice in the back of my mind says to close my mouth, knowing my teeth are certainly stained red. Logically I know it’s likely also smeared around my lips, I was nowhere near neat eating this time. I was more concerned with consumption than I was with manners. It doesn’t seem to bother him though, which is nice, as his eyes never stray from my eyes.

“She tasted good,” I hum, closing my eyes in relief, “That’ll be enough. Thank you for helping...Karl…” My head dips down, resting slightly on his shoulder. “I’m sleepy.” He nods, shifting so one of his arms is under my back, looping his other under my legs, pulling me into his lap and then up as he shifts into a squat and swings up quickly to stand.

“Rest. I’ll have these brutes clean this up. I’ll bring you back to your mother.” He instructs. I want to tell him not to, that she’ll be mad, but my tongue is too heavy and I can’t get the words to come out. I hear him speak lowly to the Lycans before I can feel him start moving. His steps are slow, calculated as not to jostle me too much. The walk back feels long, whether that’s because he paces himself out so it is, or because I’m too out of itl, I don’t know, but it feels like hours before the gates come into view. They rattle for a split second before flying open with a clang. I want to tell him to be quiet, to put me down, that my mother can’t see him here, can’t see me in his arms.

His arms, which make me feel safer than I’ve felt in ages, warmer than all my blankets ever could. I hear my mother screech my name, making me flinch and blink my eyes open. He shushes me slightly when he feels me tense, before replying to her. “Alcina.” He greets her as he makes his way up the path towards the front door. We get to the bottom of the stairs before my eyes truly focus. She’s stepped out from the frame, not leaving the radius of the door, and boy oh boy does she look furious.

“Put my daughter down this instant, Heisenberg.” She snarls, voice colder than ice, cutting through my post-feed-healing ditz and spearing my brain with a spike of awareness. He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off before he can, stating her demand again much more firmly. He sighs, looking down at me briefly before bending slightly to set me on my feet. He keeps his hand on my waist for a moment as I sway unsteadily, but despite my vertigo I extract myself from his grasp. “Come inside now, Y/N.” I nod at her, whispering my thanks to him almost silently before stumbling my way up the steps past her looming form. I vaguely hear her hiss out a threat before she follows me inside, slamming the door and latching onto my bicep harshly, not letting up any pressure even as I cry out from the pain. She drags me downstairs towards the dungeon, past the smug faces of my sisters, before throwing me into one of the empty cells on the far side of the castle, far from the girls we bring down, from the blood we store. “You’re going to stay in here until you learn to keep away from that slime. I don’t care how long that takes.” I want to scream, protest that I didn’t seek him out, that it isn’t my fault, but I know it’s no good, she doesn't want to hear it. Doesn’t want to hear how I almost died, how he saved me and that’s the only reason I was near him in general.

She leaves me there as soon as she locks the gate. My brain starts turning back on after a few hours, my wound fully closed, the blood I consumed finally settling into my body, the buzz it gave me calming. Not long after that I hear faint laughing, that grows closer and closer until my sisters are standing in front of the bars, all looking like the cat who ate the canary. Daniela approaches first, looking me up and down before cocking her head to the side.

“Why am I not surprised to see you three here, gloating over my fall from grace.” I muse, skimming over their proud forms. “Let me guess. You let her escape. You gave her the knife. Is that why you’ve been scaring the help off?” Her lips curl up higher, clearly satisfied with her work. “You do realize I could just swarm out of here right? Right out through the bars.” Cassandra tsks, moving to join her sisters side, looking rather pleased with herself.

“You certainly could try, sister, but we had mother coat the bars in salt ages ago when some of our experiments started coming back.” My stomach dips slightly. Salt? Of course they had her do that. They’ve been planning this, clearly, because alongside silver, salt is one of the only other things that can a. hurt me, and b. keep me from passing through gaps in either form.

“Have fun down here. Who knows when mother will stop being upset with you. You really pulled that for us. Chasing after the girl, we could have stopped her before she got out of course. But god, coming back in his arms? We really should thank you.” Bela teases, stepping up out of the shadows and I can’t stop the disgusted scoff that comes out of my mouth. The three of them quirk their eyebrows, wordlessly asking what’s funny. I take a dragging step up, keeping a few inches from the bars, but as close as I can be to the three of them. Cassandra and Bela look towards Daniela, both looking as if they want to step away but following her lead. Funny, I would have thought Cassandra planned this.

“You girls are very cute, you know that? Thinking I wouldn’t know you planned this. Imagine how interested mother would be to find out the girl had one of her silver knives? You know, the ones she keeps locked away in her office that only we know about?” I reply calmly, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on theirs. Daniela opens her mouth to give some witty retort, I’m sure, but I cut her off before she can utter a syllable. “You girls need to be very careful with how you want to keep playing this game. The longer you’re on her good side, the easier it’ll be for me to topple you. I’ll let you have this one, but if you ever try anything again to make me fall out of my mothers favor you will regret it. Because even if mother doesn’t like me, Mother Miranda does, and I don’t think she’d be pleased to find out you three are trying to torment the person who’s been so beneficial to her research. Watch yourselves.”

They huff indignantly, and I know they won’t take my threat at its full merit, but that’s fine. More satisfying for me if I have to burn them. This time, however, they find their graces not to continue poking at me and walk off deeper into the dungeons, leaving me in the dark with nothing to entertain myself. I want to ask for a light, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of it, so instead I clumsily make my way to the bed, sitting on it with minimal error and resign myself to leaning against the wall until mother decides she wants to let me out.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[write-ur-wrongs]

Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”  

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”  

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

[kira-fluff]

Hello! Have you done headcanons for a MC that is a really good artist? Like, that's what she loves and hopes to make a career out of it? (For the RFA, V, And Saeran?) thankyou! Bye bye! \ ^-^ /

a/n: I LOOOVEE this idea! As a passionate artist myself, this one hits home :) As you probably know, I’ve updated my rules, since you specified 2, I will pick 2 from the RFA :) Again, let me know if you’d like to have different characters than the ones I picked! I went for MC instead of Y/n this time. Let me know what you think. Thanks! 

Also, this is pre-relationship and it may or may not have turned into a confession headcanon oh gosh 

- 

MC is an Artist +Confession bonus 

V +bonus confession 

As a fellow artist, V would be incredibly proud of you 

Even though he might sometimes have trouble saying it 

V has always showed actions above his words 

You’d quickly gathered this from his lack of communication with the RFA chat and text messages between the two of you in general 

But you understood him, in a way 

You related to the freedom he felt whenever he expressed himself through his photography 

Because you felt that same feelings when you painted 

You were incredibly inspired by Beatrix Potter, your memories of her various artworks inspiring you to do the same 

You adored nature just as much as V did 

Together, you both made a beautiful pair 

You wore an adorable flower-patterned, yellow sun dress

A beige sunhat you held to your head with a hand, carrying your brushes and paint palette

Him, dressed smartly in a sweater with khaki pants 

 V could carry your easel for you, his professional photography bag slung around his shoulder. 

You’d laugh, turning around to look at him, the wind blowing in your face, urging him to “Come on!” 

V had never thought you more beautiful than the time you’d accidentally tripped into a meadow of freesias, scattering them every which way 

You gasped, whipping out your pocket book, etching down the scene before you 

After a measurable silence, you looked over at V who had been quiet in taking pictures of you 

He keeps many copies of the pictures, putting one in his wallet and other places he’d look frequently just to make him smile 

He’d never let others besides himself see them, but they were the most beautiful photos he’d ever taken, and this not just by his standards of your beauty 

You sometimes would catch yourself sketching him during your time outside with him, sitting in a quiet pasture 

The world’s creatures were your muse, but you couldn’t help yourself from taking every opportunity to capture V’s every expression

And maybe that’s when you realized you were completely and utterly in love with him. 

In those quiet times in the meadows, all along you were in love with him. 

When you’d caught V taking candids of you, you always would beg him to delete them, which he begrudgingly would, if you really begged him 

But.. other than that, you were positive V had no real feelings for you outside of a deep friendship. 

That must’ve done it. He knows.  

Because suddenly, V had become incredibly distant, flaking out of your naturalist escapades, becoming increasingly difficult to come in contact at all..

it was all pointing to the fact that he had realized how deeply you loved him. 

You in turn, pushed away everyone around you. 

Rejection hurt. So much. One does not truly understand it until they’ve felt it themselves. 

It came to a point where you had no more tears left to cry, you knew he was gone forever. 

Your love, your inspiration. 

All was gone. 

You hadn’t touched a paint brush in months 

You’d been skipping meals for a while, beginning to feel more and more fatigue because of it. 

It came to the point where all in the RFA (except V) had become so worried about you that they’d sent Jaehee and Yoosung over to check on you 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d checked your phone 

Your blinds and curtains had been shut for a subsequent amount of time. 

It had been weeks since you’d last changed your clothes, your hair was unkept. 

You stopped taking care of yourself completely, emptiness overtaking you. 

You had always had a dream of making artwork your career.. but just when your freelance career had begun to take off.. you lost everything. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to touch your paints or pocket book. It reminded you too much of him. 

You weren’t concerned about money, Rika’s apartment was already paid for and… well, with no real meal expenses, you didn’t feel any real purpose to continue. 

You heard a soft knock on the door. 

Instead of answering, you groaned, rolling over in your sheets – hoping if you ignored the knocking they’d assumed you weren’t home.

Any last grain of hope you’d had left you a long time ago. 

“….MC?” 

You slowly sat up in your bed. It was Yoosung. 

You instantly felt shame for ignoring them.. and looking, well, like this. 

“I’m coming in!” Came a loud shout, causing you to panic. 

Damn. Seven must’ve opened the apartment.  

Seven was concerned for you, given the surveillance footage, he couldn’t find almost any instances when you’d left your apartment. 

Given your apparent closeness, Seven shot a text to Yoosung, Jaehee, and of course, V. 

Yoosung and Jaehee replied in agreement and concern, V, however, said something very different. 

// V:  I’m sorry. I can’t go. >> [sent, 6:08am]

707: I thot the 2 of u were rly close. Did sth happen? >> [sent, 6:09am]

V: I’m selfish. I can’t see her anymore. >> [sent, 6:29am] 

707: ? >> 

707: > [sent, 6:29am]

read, 6:32am. //

You began to cry, embarrassed and ashamed, as Jaehee and Yoosung called your name throughout your hollow feeling apartment. 

Immediate concern covered their faces when they saw you teary eyed in your bed. 

“Oh, MC, hey, it’s going to be okay.”, Jaehee immediately held your head in her arms. 

She ordered Yoosung to get some food from your local convenience store

From there, she opted to begin cleaning you up. 

Jaehee didn’t want to force you to do or say anything, so she never asked questions – unless to ask whether you were comfortable taking a shower or perhaps, eating something later. 

You were not opposed to the help, rather, you felt indebted to them, feeling guilty for causing Jaehee, Yoosung, and likely Seven a great amount of trouble. 

Jaehee made quick work of stripping your bed sheets, stuffing in the laundry and opening the blinds, cleaning your room and dusting where necessary 

A part of her chastised herself for not doing so sooner, but she and the others were afraid that they’d be intruding on your right to take a social media break or something of the sort. 

Yoosung came back relatively quickly, a meal in hand, per Jaehee’s request. 

He made quick work of making his specialty – an omurice omelette. 

Jaehee continued to tidy up, checking up with you when she’d realized the apartment had gotten too silent

You at last stepped out of the shower, your hair taking on a glimmer, as if thanking you for taking care of it at last. 

You washed your face, trying to gather your thoughts as your shoved a crew-neck shirt over your head, opting for jeans and slippers as well. 

At last coming out of the bathroom, you at last made eye contact with Yoosung and Jaehee you began to cry again. 

Without hesitation, they rushed toward you for a hug, hushing you when you’d blubbered, “I’m sorry, thank you, I’m so sorry” in between dry heaves. 

After a quick call to Seven from Jaehee, Zen, Jumin and Saeyoung had made their way to your apartment as well. 

They each had their piece to share, kind words of encouragement and love. 

You were happy by their words, but… 

V wasn’t here. 

At last gaining confidence through their encouraging words, you ushered them to the large sofas that laid beneath your TV. 

Looking down, you said, “I-I’m sure you’re all wondering about V and I..” 

You didn’t dare look up when your sniffles began. 

You took a deep breath before beginning, “This is nothing to his fault, but….” your lip wobbled, “I believe.. I think he realized that I had completely fallen for him,” you laughed pathetically, “Still am”

Seven began, “MC–” 

“I don’t blame him, really, I never intended to tell him… it’s awkward.” 

Zen clenched his fist, “That asshole…” 

“And my friend” Jumin quickly rebutted. 

“P-please! I didn’t tell you this to make you dislike him or anything! I just felt like I owed you all an explanation…”, you begged.

Seven stared at you for a while before saying, “MC… V he’s– I think you should tell him properly.” 

Zen, ever the hot-head, stood up shouting, “And get her heart broken all over again?! How heartless can you be!” 

You smiled ingenuinely, “He’s right, Zen.” 

Before you could change your mind, you picked up your phone, and for what felt like years, you at last dialed V’s number. 

On the last ring, you heard sound that the caller had, picked up though there was no sound on the other line. 

Jumin and Yoosung ushered everyone out of the room, deciding to take a little stroll outside the apartment complex. 

After a moment of silence you started, “…..V?” 

You now heard him breathing on the other line.

“V, I know you’re there. Please…” You felt your voice wavering, “P-please… come to my apartment.”, you whispered a final, “please.” 

V was silent for what felt like hours before saying, “……..okay.” 

You hung up, attempting to mentally prepare yourself for the world of hurt you were about to endure again. 

After a long silence in which you’d zoned out, you suddenly heard the door bell ring. 

You glanced up. Only V ever used the doorbell.. always had. 

You slowly crept toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. 

Gently opening the door a crack, you took in V. 

It had been a few months, but he looked so different. So…hollow. 

You moved for him to come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“Um, V, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

“You already know my answer.” 

You looked up, tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to ignore his statement. 

“V… I love you.” 

You’d never seen V so taken aback, his whole face grew pale. 

“Y-you love me?” 

“Have. For a long time.” 

You looked down, “You can go now.” 

Yet you didn’t hear a sound of movement. 

Looking up, V was still standing there, shocked. 

At last, you managed to hear the softest whisper, “All this time….”

You leaned in closer, “What?” 

“I- I loved you.. I love you. Since we’d first met. I-I thought you didn’t want a thing to do with me. Thought you’d figured out I’d fallen in love, so I distanced myself.. selfishly to try not to get hurt, but I still did. And all this time you felt the same.” 

You were now the stunned one. 

“Really?” 

V gently smiled at you, enveloping you in a tight hug, “Really.” 

Jumin +bonus confession 

You loved to create stories 

Various areas of fiction, watercolor splashing against crisp, white pages 

Telling a beautiful story in color 

And Jumin adored it. 

He adored you. 

He admired your deep passion to create and your love for everything. 

He couldn’t understand how you could see the beauty in everything around you… for Jumin, he tended to consider things in their degree of usefulness. 

For the longest time, his father and those around him had encouraged this mentality 

And so, Jumin rarely sought for things that would have no real purpose – his penthouse proved this point by its bare walls – void of artistic charm

It wasn’t until you’d met him through the RFA that you’d immediately brought a force of color into his life 

He remembered well the first time you’d come to his apartment 

You gently ran your soft fingers against the walls of his penthouse saying, “Mr. Han, I think you need some more color in your house. It looks like a hospital in here!” You turned to him, a playful smile on your face. 

The breath was knocked out of him. 

God, he could never say no to you. If you’d ask, he’d get you anything you’d ever need. 

But he loved that you didn’t appreciate that kind of affection. Jumin knew he immediately ran to gift giving for love because it was the only way he had been shown love throughout his life…. and, it didn’t really mean anything to him. 

Still, he desperately wanted to be helpful, so if you were ever in a financial struggle, he’d offer to assist you. 

You’d proudly decline, declaring you could do it all yourself. He liked that about you too. Your independence, your kindness. 

It didn’t take long for him to realize he had taken to you greatly. 

One day when you’d come over for a visit, while petting Elizabeth III, you said, “Hey, Jumin.. have you ever fallen in love before?” 

Tension filled the air while Jumin stared at you. 

How could MC be so blind. 

When it had been a few moments he’d not answered, you awkwardly said, “J-just kidding! I figured you’re probably engaged – that was a stupid question, sorry..” 

Jumin was stricken by your sudden uncertainty, but didn’t make anything of it. 

“I’m not engaged. Don’t listen to anything my father says regarding that. And to answer your question, I think I might have an idea of what that feels like.” 

His eyes bore into yours, but he of course missed the look of sorrow that’d taken over your eyes.  

He’d watch you paint all day if he had the time. 

He couldn’t understand how you could look at a blank sheet of paper and write something so poetically beautiful and paint a lovely picture to match 

It was all a part of his amazement of you. 

He could watch you for hours, humming to yourself while you played around with contrast colors for your watercolor pieces 

No other art had value quite like your own 

He encouraged you at every chance he got, “MC, you should go into the arts.” 

“That’s what I want to do! But, Dad says the arts aren’t a realistic job.”, you frowned. 

“That may have been true in some outdated decade, but in our world today people are always looking for something hand-made and authentic. When we research our products, we look for items that have a ‘signature’ to them. Trust me, people want your art not only because it is breath-taking.. but because you made it.” 

You smiled at that, Jumin was always one to put a rational thought forward for your consideration, something you’d cherished. 

“Besides, I think you’d be happy anywhere you can create.” 

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Ju Ju.”

Staying close friends became increasingly difficult, but Jumin wasn’t going to risk losing his friendship with you because of feelings. 

So you surprised him when you began randomly, “Jumin, I think I’m in love with you, okay?” 

You made eye contact, doing your best to show you were serious. 

As soon as he realized you were authentic in your confession, you turned around and began sprinting, flying open the door to his penthouse 

Jumin immediately chased after you, both in a full sprint��

You screamed when you heard his breathing and steps behind you and so increased your speed 

You had at last reached a dead end, but Jumin was a ways behind you. 

You reached for the elevator button, furiously clicking it – thankfully it came on the first ding. 

You rushed inside, repeatedly tapping the door-closing button. 

You sighed at last when you felt the elevator moving up, gasping for air. 

You attempted to continue going up to the highest story, which happened to be 320, grateful that this damn skyscraper had a ton of floors. 

You froze when the door came to a stop at floor 13. You panicked, trying to force the doors not to open. 

In front of you was a random businessmen, looked slightly peeved at the long wait he must’ve had for the elegant glass elevator. 

You apologized, allowing him into the elevator along with a crowd of impatient people, some gorgeous women with a smart suit and long hair, their phone resting on their cheek next to their ear, some more businessmen, glancing anxiously at their watches. 

As the elevator climbed to floor 21, a heap of people acknowledged their stop, pressing out of the elevator shaft and onto the busy hallways of what appeared to be the finance department. 

You sighed, pressing more buttons to go up higher. 

You screeched when you felt a hand on both of your wrists, slamming you into the wall behind you. 

Jumin’s eyes were glowing from the slight sweat that was beginning to form on his brow 

He looked pissed. 

“Don’t. Ever. Run. Away. From me. Again.” 

You gazed up at him, a guilty expression clouding your face 

“S-sorry..”, you quickly looked away, not bearing to look at the anger in his expression, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes took on a darker hue… brows knit together. He was really mad. 

“You didn’t let me answer.” He said, his voice deep. 

He leaned in closer.. you closed your eyes in anticipation. 

He breathed a laugh through his nose, resting his forehead on your collarbone and shoulder. 

You blushed in embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Jumin hugged you tightly, “I love you too, MC.” 

Zen

As a fellow artist, Zen was overjoyed to say the least when he found out about your love for singing 

Your social media accounts were growing rapidly from your posts of music covers and original songs 

You also had a deep love to playing the harp. 

It had taken a lot of coaxing to convince your father to let you pay half and he pay the other of the expense of a 200,000 Won pedal harp 

But you loved it so much 

And so does Zen 

He’d definitely insist on doing a collaboration with you 

After the recording session and upload, both your following counts grew rapidly 

Comments of all types flooded your posts: 

OMG!!! ZEN!! BEAUTIFUL ZEN!!

who’s the b*tch next to him? 

omg, right? 

ew lol 

AHHHH I LOVE YOU ZEN!!! 

MC looks so cute…

fyp!! 

ZEN AND MC WOULD MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE AWEEEE 

I agree!! 귀엽다   (cute) 

Over the course of your social media endeavor, you’d learned to ignore the ruthless comments of jealous fans 

Zen was worried you’d taken them personally so he validated you a lot over the period that the video was a hit 

Zen wrote a song about you (which he definitely serenaded you with): 

“your passion, my passion one in the same this song – our communicator of my love to you. your smile each day this serenade a simple translator the time we have means so much i wouldn’t spend it any other way.” - radio wave COMMUNICATION by Zen 

The song overtook the song charts, making it’s way to the #1 spot in half a day 

You’d asked him, “Zen, are you going to make that a single? You are, aren’t you? Right?” 

“No, this is something for you and you only” 

You smiled at that, but said, “Zen, love like this deserves to be shared. This song will mean something so special to someone else, just like it means something to me. Music, what we do.. it was made to be shared.” 

Zen looked at you with stars in his eyes, taking you in a big hug. 

You truly were the kindest person he’d ever met.. and he loved you so, so much. 

Even though you may not have realized yet what the truth of his feelings were in his serenade, he knew he’d wait for the day in anticipation when he’d finally ask you to be his. 

Saeran

Saeran wasn’t personally one for dramatics, but he loved watching you perform  

You’d sing for all kinds of musicals – you’d act for a series of plays 

He loved it when you’d act in classics like Macbeth or The Phantom of the Opera

It felt like a safe place to forget everything in his life and just watch you 

But he hadn’t fallen for you for who you pretended to be, but for who you really are. 

You were shy – something he found surprising (but unbelievably adorable) because you were a well-known actress 

When you’d first met him, you were walking outside the entrance way of the theater a few hours before your showtime. 

You had accidentally tripped and spilled coffee all over some tax forms you had to fill out

You let out a soft, “oh no!” 

Saeran had been early for a nice seat (hopefully away from other people) and noticed a woman in a cute over-sized sweater was muttering words under her breath, picking up what seemed to be endless amounts of papers 

He quietly walked over and just as softly said, “…need some help..?” 

You were surprised at the sudden presence of a stranger 

“o-oh! … yes please..” 

he smiled, leaning down and picking up stacks of coffee-stained paper

“would you like me to carry them for you?”, he said 

“are you– are you sure?” you looked up at him innocently in concern 

he answered by gently taking the stack of papers, “where to..?” 

“um… i’ll show you..” 

he nodded, following you to the backstage area where there was a mirror attached to a dresser, stage makeup covering the top of it. 

“you’re an actress?” 

you grinned shyly, “everyone’s surprised..” 

“n-no, i think it suits you. i was surprised because i’m watching the show tonight.” 

“r-really? you’ll watch me?” 

he nodded, blushing at your hopeful smile 

“i’ll do my best then, if you’ll watch me..” 

“good.” he looked away 

“i’ll be waiting” you said with a soft smile 

“so will i” 

yeah you two were literally so adorable.

- 

enjoy my beautifuls

[ssamie]

one. new beginnings 

oikawa tooru x fem langa!reader

(hq x sk8 the infinity)

warnings: spelling mistakes, 2k+ words, u have langa’s blue hair sorry 

gen masterlist.            “snow” masterlist.

"eh?! what do you mean you're moving?!" reki shrieked out in surprise, accidentally tripping over his feet and landing on the ground

the distant sounds of cars honking and the few civilians chattering filled the air. it was almost dark and they had just gotten off work and were on their way home. 

y/n sighed and picked up his skateboard, nodding her head lightly with a frown. "yeah.. my mom said we have to move soon" she said. "but.. why?" reki frowned as he stood up to meet eyes with her.

"well, my mom got a better paying job there so she said we should just move, i guess" she replied, her tone laced with guilt. "oh.." reki muttered. he kicked his feet on the ground, looking down as y/n peers at him with a guilty frown.

"im sorry reki" she whispered with a soft whimper "i guess i should've told you a lot sooner.." she said

reki looked up at her and shook his head. "no, no! it's fine, don't worry.." he reassured with a shaky smile "um..where exactly will you be moving to?" reki asked her 

"miyagi" she answered quietly, sheepishly kicking her feet back and forth, causing the rumbling sound of the wheels hitting the pavement to fill the tense air. 

"wow uh.." reki chuckled in surprise "that's really far.." he muttered. he then cleared his throat and shot her a shaky grin "well, atleast it snows over there!" he exclaimed. "maybe you can try snowboarding again" reki said, though it didn't seem to fill her with much comfort 

"i heard there's a good amount of snow when you're deep in the mountains! you can even-" 

"reki.." she cut him off with a soft whimper of his name 

reki stopped and looked at her with a sad sigh. he pursed his lips and finally dropped the enthusiastic façade. "i don't wanna leave okinawa" she admitted with a pained sigh. "i don't wanna leave you" 

".. a-and the others too ofcourse" she continued with a nervous chuckle "not just you.." 

"i don't want you to leave too" reki chuckled as he wiped the tears brimming his eyes 

he lightly punched her shoulder and took his board from her hands. "agh! you're gonna make me cry, you know!" he exclaimed. y/n smiled and let out a soft laugh "sorry, sorry" she said 

reki pouted and hesitantly brought her into his arms, nibbling on his bottom lip and letting out a sigh as he squeezed her tight. "i'll really miss you, y/n" reki said. 

she blinked repeatedly in shock and flusteredly wrapped her arms around him as well. "um-i-i'll miss you too reki.." she stammered out as she tried to fight off the heat that was rushing to her cheeks 

suddenly, reki pulled away, much to her distaste, and fixed his stance. "let's skate together before you leave, yeah?" reki mused "just for tonight.. then we'll continue when you get back" reki smiled 

"yeah. let's skate" she replied with a fond smile 

the pair skated home, taking their usual route and doing some tricks here and there. though their usual chatter and banter was not present, and all there was, was silence that seemed to weight down on both of their chests with varying emotions. 

they stopped at the block separating their houses, right under the street light where they always meet up with each other. 

reki looked back at her and smiled. "well, this is where we part" he chuckled ."yeah.. i guess so.." y/n muttered back with a frown 

reki sighed and nudged her with his elbow. "cmon, don't be like that" he said "its not like we'll never see each other again!" reki exclaimed with a laugh, though even he wasnt able to convince or reassure himself. 

"you're just moving, no big deal! we have one more day to spend together and our friends and visit S" reki explained in a comforting tone 

y/n sighed in distress and crouched down on the ground. she kept her board in place with her feet and stared at it with furrowed brows. "i guess you're right" she said. "but i really don't want to leave. im completely fine here in okinawa with you and the others." 

"i wanna keep skating with you and go to hotsprings together and eat bentos and keep working at dope sketch!" she exclaimed with a look of affliction 

reki frowned and sat down beside her, resting his chin on his hands and nodding along. "yeah, i wanna keep doing that too" he said "but we can't really do anything about it anymore" 

"unless you wanna try begging your mom or something" reki joked with a laugh as he nudged her with his shoulder. "but it's not like that would work-... y/n?" reki sweat dropped as he looked at her only to be met with a look of determination and sparkling eyes. 

"you're so smart, reki!" she praised "that's a great idea, we should do that! you're so amazing" 

reki chuckled and cheekily grinned at her "ah shucks, you flatter me too much!" he giggled 

"but were not gonna actually do that, right?" reki asked with a soft chuckle

".. right?" 

"WE BEG YOU!" they simultaneously exclaimed as they got down on their hands and knees to bow 

"w-what?! kids, what are you doing??" nanako exclaimed with a nervous smile as she tried to get them to stand up 

"PLEASE! DON'T TAKE Y/N AWAY!" reki cried out as he wrapped his arms around her in a bone crushing hold. "please!" y/n followed up with a determined look in her eyes as she stares at her mother expectantly 

y/n loosely wrapped her arms around reki's waist and pouted "please, mom?" she pleaded as she accentuated her 'puppy eyes'. "please, hasegawa-san?" reki pleaded as well as he gave her his 'puppy eyes' for the extra cute effect 

nanako seemed conflicted as she stares at their cutesy expressions with a look of dread. "what do i do?! they're too.. too cute!!" she cried to herself "help me, oliver !!!" 

she then composed herself and cleared her throat. "well, im really sorry kids" she said "but my desicion is final." she stated with a determined huff "im doing this so we can earn more-" 

she cut herself off as she caught sight of the two teens sulking and holding ecah other while a dark gloomily aura loomed over them. "ah well- i-" nanako stammered as she shakily reached her hand out to them with a guilty smile 

she then sighed and let her arms hang by her sides. "im sorry, y/n, reki. but we need to move so i can earn more money and y/n won't have to work for me anymore" she explained "plus, i've already purchased the house so there's really no going back now" 

"but im okay with working at dope sketch.." y/n muttered with a frown 

"i know, but.." nanako smiled nervously "look at it this way! you'll go to a new school and make some friends! we can even try snowboarding during winter, won't you love that?" 

y/n briefly glanced at reki and sighed. "sure.." she mumbled 

nanako smiled and gently patted them both on the head. "you should hang out with your friends before we leave" she said "you'll regret wasting your time here, yknow?" nanako mused 

reki and y/n nodded and went to put on their shoes. they grabbed their boards, and hastily skated to joe's restaurant 

"ah jeez.." nanako muttered to herself as she watched them skate away. "teenagers are so hard to handle!!" 

"help me oliver!!!" 

"guys, we have something to say!" reki exclaimed as he abruptly slammed his hand down on the table, effectively gaining all of their attention. 

"y/n is-" 

"what is it you slime?" miya sneered as he continued sipping on his drink 

"your girlfriend?" they all simultaneously said with a bored tone as they continued on eating their meals 

"..." reki and y/n blinked and looked at each other in confusion. "what?" reki asked cluelessly "no that's not-" 

"well its kinda obvious" shadow said with a chuckle "yeah, we kind of saw it coming" miya agreed 

"what? no seriously, that's not what-" reki was once again cut off by joe who playfully punched him in the shoulder and grinned. "damn, didn't know you had it in you to ask her out" joe laughed "and i didn't think y/n would ever confe-" 

"I'M MOVING TO MIYAGI!" she immediately cut him off, mainly to prevent joe's big mouth from spilling anything, and just to get it out of the way. 

"WHAT?!" they all collectively exclaimed 

"are you serious? that's pretty far away" shadow said with furrowed brows "yeah... what about S?" miya asked with a small frown 

"i'll have to quit" y/n says as she steals a fry from cherry's plate "i'll go one last time later." 

"miyagi.." cherry mumbled as he swats her hand away from his food. "where in miyagi will you be staying?" he asked. "i don't know" she answered with a shrug. "but im going to a school named aoba johsai i think." 

"carla, tell me about that school." almost immediately, carla had responded. "okay master" it said. 

"aoba johsai, also known as seijoh, is a private school located at miyagi prefecture. they are mostly known for their performance in volleyball, having competed in numerous tournaments and had made a name for themselves through the sport and successfully deemed themselves as a powerhouse school. "

"volleyball?" y/n hummed in curiosity "how do you play that?" she asked cherry. "i wouldn't know." he replied "though it's a sport where you play with a team. why? would you like to join?" he asked 

"probably not" y/n shrugged 

"oi, rookie! are you really moving?" joe asked with a small frown "S would get boring without you, yknow?" 

"i am" she replied "and i think S would be fine with you guys and reki in it" 

reki looked at her and smiled. the redhead slung his arm around her shoulders and picked up his board "how bout we have a beef one last time before you go?" reki suggested "we could all go against each other. just for the fun of it." 

"sure, but you'll lose, just so you know" joe boasted as he flexed his biceps. "hah?! just cus you're bigger and more muscular doesn't mean you'll win!" reki whined 

"yeah!" y/n agreed with a huff "reki has gotten better and much faster! and he knows more tricks now. he even did a snowboarding trick and-" 

miya quickly cut her off before she could go on a full rant about the redhead. "let's just go" miya groaned out as he grabbed his board. "man, are you sure you're not together" shadow sweat dropped as he followed miya and dragged them both out of the restaurant 

"we're not!" reki exclaimed with a laugh "why would you even think that would happen? we're just best friends" 

"right.. best friends" y/n agreed 

shadow sweat dropped as he turned to look at her, only to be met with her teary eyes and her quivering smile, looking like she’s on the verge of crying her eyes out like a child. 

"are you okay?" shadow muttered sheepishly as he watched her hastily wipe her eyes and pout like a child "yes" she replied with a huff 

"oh, is that so?" miya cooed with a cat-like grin as he stalked closer to her side "i mean it makes sense" he said "the heroine shouldn't be with a slime, after all" 

shadow deadpanned as he watched miya slyly lock their arms together with a grin "so who should she be with? you?" he scoffed "ofcourse!" miya wholeheartedly agreed. "im the hero so the heroine should be with me!" 

shadow sweat dropped as he watched miya hug her arm and look at them with a smug cat-like smirk. "dude, aren't you like thirteen?" shadow deadpanned 

y/n smiled and patted his head with a soft laugh "yup, you're right" she agreed jokingly, her smile widening as miya's face exploded into bright shades of red. "i-it doesn't mean i like you though!" he shrieked out "im just saying that we would be compatible!!" 

"i see." she muttered "japanese people are so hard to decipher" 

cherry and joe came out of the restaurant and got on their boards, urging them to do the same. "cmon, let's go there before too many people arrive" joe said as he stretched his arms 

"last one to arrive buys everyone boba!!" reki announced as he skated away, pulling y/n along as he does so 

"ha?! oi! unfair you should've counted!!" shadow exclaimed before hastily catching up to them "hmp, as if i'll lose to any of you slimes." miya muttered as he sped up 

"oh please. you all make me pay anyways." cherry mumbled with a sigh as he got on carla and calmly caught up to them 

"well you got the most cash" joe shrugged with a grin 

"shut up you gorilla." 

"i'll really miss their banters." y/n mumbled as she looked back to watch joe and cherry hit  each other with their board. "hey, it's not like we can't visit you" reki laughed 

"would you visit me reki?" she asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "it would be strange not being with you.." 

"of course! i'll visit you like every week!" reki reassured with a wide grin 

"heh, as if you got the cash for that" shadow sneered from beside him. 

"i-im gonna save up, then i'll visit you every week!" reki cleared his throat with a nervous laugh 

her smile widened as she stared at reki in admiration and pure glee. 

"okay, im counting on it!"

im making miya have a cute little puppy crush on u cus why not lol, yall won't end up together tho that's weird 🤨‼️

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 32

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Summary: Stephen Strange being a grown-up. Reader being a grown-up. Kind of. Revenge plot starts now - don't be like the mercenary, don't threaten reader's family. Avengers being good.. bros? Good found family idk. More smut + plot coming soon.

The silence hung awkwardly over us. Stephen wasn't the one to wax poetics, usually, and I wasn't in the mood to do anything but curl up somewhere warm, chug a bottle of liquor and fall asleep. Sleep is like death without the committment and after my little outburst, I inwardly prayed and begged for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Instead, I was directed to sit and drink my tea by the sorcerer, who, by the way, was beginning to look like a kicked puppy.

It was starting to become unbearable. "I'm listening," I finally croaked out, shocked at how raspy my voice sounded. As if someone had forced me to choke on some nails - and I felt like it, too. My hands were shaking, all but spilling the hot tea onto them.

"Princess..." His mouth did the thing when he was worried, lips pursed, their corners upturned. "What we did was not... Right, you were drugged without your consent. I am sure Tony feels the same way."

My eyebrows rose, words bubbling up to the surface as I fought the urge to simply start calling Stephen some strong names. Had he been blind the whole time I flirted with him, had he not seen both me and Tony ogling him when we thought nobody could see? Every time I joked about the sexual tension between them - you know what they say, every joke has a little bit of truth in it.

Or maybe the sorcerer had used the incident as a convenient excuse for our little fuck-fest to be a one-time thing? I expected more, I won't lie, but I wouldn't put it above him. I knew all too well that some men tended to simply... Avoid.

I was angry, probably rightfully so, but it was not the time for me to comfort an adult man. My own life was going to shit, I had no mental energy to unburden his baseless guilt. It was selfish and it made me feel even more like shit, but it was as if someone had flipped a switch inside of me. I just didn't care about someone's heartbreak. I needed to solve another problem, a much bigger than a man that couldn't make up his mind.

I had to find that damn mercenary. It was the only real threat hanging over our heads; unlike any mission that I've seen the team go on before, they had thrown all the forces into catching the man that had gotten into their safe space, their home. That threatened to take what they thought as theirs. Long gone were the days of comfortable domesticity.

"Okay," I replied, nodding curtly. "I wanted it, if it helps any. I thought you were attractive the first day I saw you." I spoke bluntly, beginning to feel like myself more and more with each word that I spoke. "And again, no strings have to be attached. I'm sure Tony will understand it too, it's not his first rodeo."

Stephen's head shot up from where he was examining his clasped hands, to study me with furrowed brows. Cloaky moved where it was wrapped around me, attracting the sorcerer's attention - I, unfortunately, did not understand the Cloak's sign language and what it told Stephen remained a mystery to me. I was just delighted to be out of the cold and and wet clothes.

"I think you misunderstood me," Stephen eyed me with surprise. "I want more, but..." He trailed off, unsure. "I don't know. I'm surprised Banner hasn't gone green on me yet. I'm a doctor, I should have known..."

So, he was pulling a me and wallowing in pity. Is this really how pathetic I looked when I used to mope around the house earlier? No wonder my mother thinks I'm a baby. "Stephen, I'm really not in the mood to listen to bullshit. I wanted it, you wanted it, great, we can move on. Because with everything that has happened to me, I really have no energy to convince you I like you even while sober when you're sabotaging yourself." Sure, I might have ripped off the motivational speech from a self-help book my mother used to have laying around. My patience was wearing thinner with each second. "There, I said it. I like you, my boyfriends like you, you're welcome to the club if you decide to believe the fact that I am telling the truth." And if he wouldn't, well, I could get over it. I was planning to never act upon my feelings for both Tony and Bruce, it hadn't been as hard as I thought it would be. Especially with me being busy enough to just ignore the feelings.

At some point, I had grown attached to Stephen. Perhaps, if I and Tony hadn't decided to mess around with the sorcerer at the party, my feelings wouldn't have bloomed into anything more than physical attraction. Murphy's law had a particularly strong affinity on me, I noticed, because over and over I found myself falling head over heels for emotionally unavailable men. It worked out with Tony, which wasn't as surprising as one might expect, considering we're two halves of a whole idiot, but then Bruce also decided to pucker up - Stephen was bound to be the rock that I trip on.

Or not? Soft lips pressed against my forehead, beard hair softly tickling the tip of my nose. I was pressed against a solid chest, surrounded by warmth and comfort. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot," Steph whispered, voice quivering.

"Well, it's not like this... Relationship... I've got going on is something commonplace," My arms wrapped around him, a deep sigh relaxing my body into his. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. It wasn't right."

Stephen chuckled, all but pulling me bodily into his lap. "Don't worry, Princess. I deserved it." As he spoke, the Cloak carefully unwrapped itself from me, drifting away with a parting pat on my back. "Now what happened with your parents?" Large palms pushed the hair out of my face, stormy blue eyes looking at me with worry.

"I should probably assemble all my significant others for this conversation," There was little enthusiasm in discussing the incident. I was an adult and had enough money to get by for a few months, at least until I could patent one of my inventions. I had plenty of knick-knacks that should be able to interest buyers, that much I knew, and while the legal side of the process was a blank slate to me, I knew I could be charismatic enough to have someone work it out for me.

"I don't think I'll be able to take Steve seriously when he says 'assemble', now," My third boyfriend chuckled, which - wow, I didn't have boyfriends and now I had three? Should I be considering opening a factory or something? Stephen adjusted his hold on me. "Let's go, I'll portal us in."

"My car's out there with all my stuff. I'll have to drive," I protested but made no move to get out of his lap.

"Tony is a billionaire, he can pay someone to retrieve it," Shrugging carelessly, he produced a golden circle of magic, the common room couch in plain sight at the other side of it. I heard voices and then Clint's head peaked through, a curiously tilted eyebrow morphing into full fledged face of confusion upon seeing the two of us.

Yikes. I had forgotten about the state of my dress and the bruise on my cheek. "Hey, bird. I need a drink," I said the first thing that popped into my mind, causing both Clint and Steph to laugh as the sorcerer carried me into the tower through the portal.

"I'm starting to think you go out there and look for trouble on purpose," The archer sighed, pulling out his phone and texting rapidly. Mine vibrated, too, once he was done, which meant he'd called for a family meeting. Blergh.

In no time, Tony appeared, dark circles under his eyes and yesterday's shirt on, towing a worried Bruce behind him. One after the other, the Avengers tickled in, looking restless and exhausted. Loki's frown was well on its way to becoming a full sneer.

"Talk, please," He requested, eyeing me with concern.

"Good news is I got our rogue wizard back," I poked Stephen in the chest. He was blushing. "Bad news is my mother threw me out and my father didn't pick up the phone, so technically I'm homeless and parent-less," I decided that spitting out straight facts was the easiest way to go about it. I mean, there was no good way to tell what I just told them.

The storm that I anticipated didn't appear. Just a lot of disappointed sighs all around, especially from Tony, who looked twenty years older after I'd confessed to the current state of my affairs. "You're not homeless, you live here," He pointed out, rubbing his face and muttering some very strong words under his nose. Particularly, the expressions involved my mother and various methods of fornication.

"We got your back, doll," Bucky nodded, coming over to wrap me in a gentle hug. He was like a brother from another mother to me at this point, kind and goofy and sensible. "I would propose to teaching that harpy a lesson but I think she's beyond it."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Loki mused suddenly. "If I recall correctly, your mother was against your career of choice, which is idiotic. Science is a noble and prospective path." The Asgardian, too, gave me a hug.

I wasn't crying! There were ninjas, in the vents, cutting onions! "Stop it guys, I'm gonna cry. I already look like shit!" The protest was silenced by Bruce's lips on mine, his tiny smile briefly covering my mouth with tenderness. After that, everybody somehow decided it was their job to try and make me cry; like a bad bitch, I resisted, but eventually broke and started sniffling when Tony began rambling about building me my own lab and Wanda offered to help me decorate my new apartment.

No matter how much my mind screamed at me to refuse, I forced that noise down. Fighting against myself, accepting help despite feeling unworthy of it - it was probably the hardest thing I've done in my whole life.

Bruce volunteered to carry my prone body to Tony's bedroom which was quickly becoming the master bedroom for the three of us - ever since the incident, both of my scientists stuck close to me whenever possible, aggressively cuddling me whenever they decided it was time to get some sleep. Which wasn't much these days, if I was being honest. Persuading Bruce to stay with me was a novelty - usually he didn't resist, but that time, I had to repeat myself multiple times that the team could handle business even without him being present.

I had my ulterior motives, of course. Tony and Stephen needed to talk. I only hoped their egos wouldn't clash without me to mediate - having two boyfriends start a fight wasn't something I wanted to experience. I had zero experience in those matters and had no idea how to manage all that. Are there handbooks for polyamorous relationships? I stuck a mental post-it note inside my brain to check it out.

I fell asleep with Bruce wrapped around me and woke up in the same position, having been too exhausted to move even in my sleep. Voices, rough and quiet, were the first thing I heard upon syncing my brain into a resemblance of a working order, instantly recognizing Stephen's deep baritone and Tony's teasing drawl.

"Expect either Reindeer Games or Kim Possible to come and terrify you," My engineer didn't sound particularly ecstatic. His voice came from somewhere around my feet; the hand wrapped around my ankle, thumb gently stroking the skin, must've been his.

"Duly noted," Stephen's reply was equally sarcastic, sounding a little closer. The warmth coming from my side was him. I could smell the faint spices that surrounded him, smell that I'd come to associate with the Sanctum.

Bruce snored away, not a care in the world.

My body, on the other hand, felt rested for what felt the first time in years. A pleasant ache in my muscles had me begrudgingly squirm out of Banner'd grasp, shamelessly pushing up into Stephen as I stretched with a juicy yawn. "What's poppin'?" I rubbed my eyes, finding the men awake looking at me with fond amusement.

"Just watching," Tony smiled, causing me to giggle at his accidental meme-ing. Was it even accidental? I refused to believe that a man well versed in IT was oblivious to meme culture.

Stephen, on the other hand... "We've discussed some things, wanted to talk to you too." His hand stroked my hair, face expression soft unlike anything I'd ever seen him have. "But you were sleeping. So cute."

Me, cute? There was a puddle of drool the size of a dollar bill on my pillow, I was pretty sure some of it had even gotten in Bruce's hair. Banner's sleep was quiet except for every five minutes when he'd let out a snore with a force somewhere between a Mack truck and a whale in mating season.

Cute, sure.

Bruce groaned, a tell-tale sign of him waking up. I met his eyes, brown, shiny, a narrow edge of green around his irises. Huh. Do I have three boyfriends or four?

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​@sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias

[itsyourimagines]

Faithless || knj

Part 22: Into the Lion’s Den

- Y/N left Korea and her idol life behind for a reason - a big one. Now, three years later, she’s living her best life in LA with her two closest friends and the best fans she could wish for. Until that reason comes crashing back into her life. Will she give in? Or has she truly moved on?

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Warnings: a lil bit of violence, and lil bit of smut, Y/N doesn’t know what she wants. Bad writing mostly.

AN: I’ve been gone a while now, I hope this part makes sense!

‘Come on, just press play.”

Your finger hovers over the screen, shaking slightly, but it refuses to obey your words.The artwork of Namjoon’s new, surprise single stares back at you. Yoongi had warned you before it was released, so it hadn’t been a surprise to you, just the fans.

‘It’s the words Namjoon wishes he hadn’t left unsaid,’ your friend had explained. But what was left to be said? Had he not laid it all excruciatingly bare in his previous work? Listening to those songs had left you with an emotional rawness you hadn’t felt in years. It reminded you of back then, when he’d ask you to sing to him when he couldn’t sleep, or when the words he wrote for you were filled with hope and life. Now they were drowned in guilt and regret. Despite the tone, he still had that magical way with words. Those songs incited the exact emotions he wanted, and that is precisely why you were so hesitant to listen again. What did he want from you this time?

You’re staring so intently at your phone’s screen, wrapped up in your musings, that the sudden text tone startles you. One ping, then another, and then a cacophony of pings until you can’t ignore them anymore. It’s Nari, knowing exactly what you’re up to and begging you to just ‘press the damn button’.

So you do.

It’s beautiful. And tragic. And so melancholic your heart crumbles. He’s done it again: hook, line and sinker. And you’re fucking furious.

The last notes of the song begin to fade, but the apartment is empty. You’re already gone.

***

LA’s streets are still busy, despite the late hour. But the combination of an oversized hoodie and no makeup helps you blend in. You prise your fists open, wincing at the crescent marks left in the soft palm skin, and pull out your phone.

“Hello, Y/N? Are you okay?” The words come quick, like he was expecting the call.

“Fine, Hobi. What’s his room number?” Your words are short, almost barking out the question. Hoseok hesitates, you can hear it in his breathing. “Come on, Hobi. Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Hobi, I swear to god if you don’t give me that number I will dig out those messages from back wh-”

“Fine! It’s 325… call me if you need me.”

You hang up after a quick goodbye, stalling only to check you’re turning down the right street. Soft patters of rain begin to surround you, quickly gathering in intensity until it’s a full on downpour. You hurry down the street and dip into the hotel’s lobby, shaking out your soaked hair and sleeves.

“Ma’am, can I help you?” The receptionist flashes a charming smile, and you reply with a flash of the keycard Hobi had lent you last time you visited to speak with him. “Ah, have a great evening.”

Your rain-soaked hoodie is chilling, but the fire in your stomach warms you. It rages through you, writhing and flaring, threatening to boil over at any moment. The rain had only fuelled it. But you can’t let it out yet, you have the full speech planned out along with a counter to every possible response. You practice the words again as you locate room 325 and slam your fist against the door.

What you hadn’t prepared for, however, was actually seeing him. The door creaks open and there he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of low slung basketball shorts, wet hair splashing droplets against his tanned skin. Running a quick scan over him, you can’t help but note the drops trailing down his defined torso. Much more defined than last time you’d seen him.

“Oh hi, Y/N…” The fire flares up again, heating your cheeks and forcing your eyes back to Namjoon’s face. His own eyes are blown wide at the sight of you at his door. His heart is beating so hard he’s sure you can hear it.

“Kim Namjoon, you dick!” You raise your hands to shove him back out of the doorway and step in behind him. He’s about to open that beautiful mouth when you raise your hand again and bring it sharply across his face. Namjoon barely flinches at the contact. “How fucking dare you? Every time I see you I seem to get hurt. I think I know the full picture only for you to reveal yet another part of this fucked up story. Why couldn’t you have just told me all of this the first time? How am I supposed to not forgive you after listening to that?”

You’re crying now - fat, angry tears that merge with the rain from your own soaked hair. You’re a mess, and he… looks like a greek god before you. Namjoon’s face softens, and he drops the hand cradling his red cheek. Instead he reaches it out to you, brushing a tangled strand of hair from your face. He’s so close now, so painfully close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. He’s so warm, and you’re just so cold.

“So cold.” You mumble. Before you can stop yourself, you’re grabbing for him. Wrapping your freezing fingers over his broad shoulders and pulling him down to you. He doesn’t fight you, even now as you tangle your fingers into his hair and close the gap.

Your lips are cold as ice, but he shivers for a very different reason. It’s been over three years since he last kissed you, really kissed you. God, he’d missed it. He lets you take the lead, scared he could make the wrong move and ruin it all again. The kiss is everything Namjoon could have imagined; soft and deep and so beautifully familiar. Like coming home.

Almost the exact same thoughts are running through your mind. You fit so perfectly together, and he holds you so delicately. As if you may break at any moment. To be fair, no one knew how to make you melt quite like Namjoon. The way his large hands splay against your back, and the small breaths he releases between kisses make your knees weak. It’s textbook really, all of the fiery sparks and blinding light a girl could dream of. It’s maddening.

Pulling back, you’re smirking at Namjoon’s whines of protest. He’s not whining for long when you’re pushing him back again until he’s flopping down onto the plush hotel sofa. “Graceful as ever, Joon,” He’s laughing and your heart is swelling at the sound. You climb onto him, straddling his muscular thighs. The breath catches in his throat. You stare down at him through thick lashes - an angel above him. Despite the bare face and tangled hair, he’s never seen anything more breathtaking. But now you’re kissing him again and all thoughts drift away. Now it’s just your lips on his, your skin on his… your hips on his. The heat sinks from his face, shooting downwards. He freezes.

“Sorry, I can’t help-” You cut off his words with a roll of your hips. The simple moves sends him straight to heaven, and you’re not far behind. Hitching up your skirt, you repeat the action, revelling in the moans you earn from him. His chest is firm under your wandering hands, this physique is new to you and you intend to explore it all.

“Please…” It’s barely a word, just a disguised breath while he presses feverish kisses to your neck and jaw. But it’s all you need to dip your fingers into the waistband of his shorts. He’s already painfully hard, leaking over your fingers when you take hold of him. Namjoon’s hands clench against your ass at the sensation. “Please let me fuck you.”

Should you? Is this a good idea? Will this be a mistake? All questions that fail to cross your mind. With his lips at your throat and his dick in your hand, how could this be wrong? Namjoon nips at the hollow of your throat, sending bolts of pleasure straight between your legs. Shoving your thong to the side and lining yourself up, you sink down onto him. A perfect fit.

***

“Oh shit. Shit, what have I done?” Realisation hits you the second you open your eyes. This is not good. Not good at all. Crawling from under the covers, you spot your now-dry hoodie over the sofa, and your skirt on the coffee table - thong nowhere to be found. Namjoon groans and blinks in the morning light. His hair forms the most adorable birds nest, falling into his equally as adorable fresh face. You stop, hoodie half way over your head, and hit him with a sheepish smile.

“Y/N… what are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. Sorry, this was a bad idea, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night was a mistake. I hit you again.. then I kissed you again… then… oh I’m so sorry,” Your whole body cringes as you think about it, but he’s clearly not bothered. Pushing himself up onto an elbow, Namjoon catches his bottom lip between his teeth. A move that nearly has you climbing back into bed. “No! This is wrong, and confusing.”

“No.” Namjoon’s voice is firm and demanding, but there’s an edge to it. Something you’ve never heard in him before: desperation. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I keep hurting you. I want to fix this and fix us. Last night… I know it was just sex, but there’s something else there too. You can’t deny it. It’s been three years, have you found anyone who can make you feel like that? I know I haven’t… I can’t live without you in my life. Please don’t make me live without my moonlight.”

“Namjoon, you can’t say things like that. I do forgive you for the past, don’t get me wrong, but am I supposed to just trust you again because of song and a screw? Am I supposed to just jump straight back into a relationship that broke me?” He was right of course, you’d tried to drown out the memory of him many times. But no one came close. No one touched you like he did, sexually or emotionally. Last night just confirmed how true that was.

“We find ourselves at an impasse,” You scoff at his comment, averting your eyes when he pulls the covers back and climbs out. While he locates his shorts, something hits you.

“Huh, it’s like the beginning of our relationship… just the other way round.”

“That’s good! It means it will be different this time, right?” He finally covers himself with his shorts, still leaving too much skin bare. As much as you enjoyed his new body, and the extra confidence that came with it, you weren’t going to crawl back into the lion’s den. Not before you could be sure it was fully tamed.

“No, this was a mistake. I’m sorry for confusing things… please let’s try being friends first. I’ve got to go.”

With that, you dashed to the door and yanked it open, running straight into Kim Seokjin. Of all people, why him? All you offer is a quick ‘Jin oppa’ and another sheepish smile. Then you’re off down the corridor, prepared to run commando all the way home.

Jin stared after you for a moment, trying to fit it all together. The last piece of the puzzle clicks into place when he spots a shirtless Namjoon at the door.

“Christ, what have you done now?”

Taglist: @bbyjoonies @agustdpeach @tiddieshakeshownu @ambersaesthetics @igotarmyofarohas @jinjccns @moon-and-solar-smiles @dreamyvans @bts-bambi @katandnanca @littlebabysandboxburritos @deiky @diamonddia-mond ond @s0obinie @maryseesthings @mipetronella @netflix-batman-sleep

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Strike

Quarantine with your boyfriend proved to be interesting. Seeing him every day was fun, but sometimes you needed your space. When you tell him you’re going on strike, he thinks it’s a joke until you pretend he’s not there.

Warning: Smut. Slight breeding kink. 

Pairing: Daveed x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Don’t mind me. Just me indulging in quarantining with Daveed again.

At the start of the quarantine, there was a small glimmer of hope that things would be okay. Then another month went by, which turned to two, then three, and so on. For the past few months, you’ve been working from home with your boyfriend. While you worked from the living room, he was busy doing interviews from the office you shared. Things were different between you two now. You went from not seeing Daveed for a few months on end to seeing him every single day. It was exciting, but there were moments you knew you needed your space. 

The day was finally over for the both of you. Daveed placed a plate in front of you as you sat down at the island. 

“You’re off tomorrow, right?”, he asked

“I sure am”, you cheered, “Hello extended weekend. Goodbye stressful hours...for now”

“Don’t even think about it. You know you deserve it. Your back must hurt from carrying that company”

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

By the time dinner was over, you were craving some attention from Daveed. He shifted on the couch with his arms open to hold you as the film played in the background. Moments like these were why you wanted time off. You shouldn’t have to talk yourself into getting through the last hours of work with the thought of being with your boyfriend when it was over. Even though you planned a day for you to get some things done around the house. Daveed was going to become a distraction as usual. With his ‘help’, you wouldn’t finish until the next day. 

“What are our plans for tomorrow”, he asked as he traced circles against your shoulder

“What do you have planned?”

“I asked you first”

“I’m going on strike”

“From work?”, Daveed asked, trying to hide the alarm in his voice, “Is it that bad?”

“No”, you laughed, “The strike is for you”

Daveed eyed you quizzically before falling into a fit of laughs as he sat up. 

“How is that even possible?”

“Easy”, you replied, “I’ll just go on about my business and pretend you aren’t there”

“Like you’ll be able to ignore me for an entire day”

“You think I can’t?”, you scoffed, beyond offended, “You think you can do better?”

“You know I can’t and I won’t, but if this is what you want, I’ll happily oblige”, Daveed mused, “Even though I know you’re going to fail”

“No, I won’t”

“Remember the last time you had a day off?”, Daveed said as kissed your cheek

He allowed you to think for a moment. You finally had some time off for work and needed to blow off some steam. Daveed suggested that you go for a walk together, knowing the places you could go were extremely limited. It seemed to be a good idea until the storm started. That’s how you ended up on top of the wash machine after putting a load in with your legs wrapped around Daveed’s waist. 

Daveed smirked as he watched you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together. The memory seared itself into your brain for the rest of eternity. 

“Like I said”, Daveed said with a cocky grin, “You can try but you won’t last”

With Daveed’s lack of faith in you, you knew you had to be true to your word. The next day you got up early to start the laundry. Even though Daveed told you he would sort the clothes and start a load for you, you got it out of the way. Your headphones were on full blast, which is why you failed to hear the door open as you started the wash machine. The moment you turned around, you ran right into a shirtless Daveed. 

“No morning cuddle or kisses. Not even a tap on the shoulder”, Daveed said after removing your headphones, “That’s just rude”

If you responded, it wouldn’t have mattered. His eyes fixated on the wash machine while he was deep in thought.  

“Good morning baby”, he cooed as he took a step closer

To his surprise, you took a step back, picking up the rest of the clothes off the floor. 

“Are we really doing this”, he sighed 

“Wow, there’s so much laundry in here”, you stated, “I wonder who’s going to stick around and finish it”

You smiled as soon as you turned around and walked out of the room to complete your next task. The door to the office you shared with Daveed was left wide open. You sat on the floor organizing papers you said you would organize years ago. The next twenty minutes were spent sifting through papers that were important or would be shredded. You were making progress until you saw something move out the corner of your eye. 

Daveed sat on the couch with his laptop in nothing but his compression shorts. Every morning he worked out in them, you silently begged for him to bench press you. Every time he wore them, you found your way into his lap in the early hours of the morning just for a morning kiss. 

“I’m just here to work”, he uttered with a smirk

You turned your attention back to your task, but you found yourself looking at Daveed more than you wanted. Daveed caught your gaze as you quickly looked away. When you looked up again, his legs were spread a little more, giving you a full view of his cock pressed against his shorts.

“Fuck”, you mumbled

“What was that baby?”

When you realized you were already done, you quickly jumped off the floor and headed to the living room. You needed a break in more ways than one, but you were determined to see this through to the end. You were halfway through your show when Daveed made his presence known. 

“Hey, baby”, he sighed, “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day”

He smiled when your eyes failed to leave the TV. Daveed sat closer to you and kissed your cheek. 

“I’ve missed you all morning. Didn’t get a kiss and that just hurts”, he continued, “But if you want to continue your strike, then I support you”

Daveed was sitting dangerously close. He was still shirtless with his chest pressed against your side. His leg was over your thigh, slowly spreading them apart. 

“Do you know how good you smell?”, he whispered close to your ear

As the Anderson Cooper rerun played, you felt his hand slip under your shirt. His lips made their way to your neck. Just as he started to soft suck small hickies under your ear, he rolled your nipples between his fingers. 

Your eyelids fluttered as you bit your lip, trying to keep your moans from slipping out. Daveed squeezed your nipples harder and softly bit your neck. He smirked as you tried in vain to squeeze your thighs together. He spread them further apart when he saw you throw your head back and grip the remote as if it was all you had to cling to. 

“Careful baby. Don’t break it”, he teased

The heat that encased your body didn’t help. It felt so good and the wetness between your thighs would tell him soon enough. Your shirt was pulled up to reveal your hard nipples. 

“You thought you could hide from me”, he laughed, “I know when you’re turned on. Always”

Daveed’s gaze on your nipples made it so much worse. He wrapped his lips around one and sucked harder than he did your neck. Your entire body tensed as you gripped the remote tighter. 

“I bet your pussy is soaked”, he grinned, “Am I right, (Y/N)?”

He pushed his hand down the front of your panties and felt how soaked you truly were before he could slip a finger in. 

“Shit”, he groaned 

At any moment, you were going to burst. How did you go this long with pretending you didn’t want to fuck him? It all came out the moment he slipped two fingers into you and you released a guttural moan. Your entire body shook as he curled them. Daveed tried to find a witty remark, but your moans filling the room distracted him. 

“Aww is the strike over”, Daveed taunted, “Does this mean I was right?”

“This is your fault, you ass”

“I mean, I can just stop if you want”, he replied as he pulled his fingers away

“No”, you begged, “Please don’t”

He slipped his fingers back in and pulled you into a kiss. He took his wet fingers and rubbed quick circles against your clit. 

“That’s what I like to hear”

Daveed knew he was already filling out in the front of his pants the moment he sat next to you. It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t thinking about doing this to you before he fell asleep last night. He returned to your neck, nipping and sucking all the way to your collar. Thankfully, you had nowhere to go tomorrow, giving you the space to walk around without the need to cover up your hickies. 

You moaned softly as you pressed yourself against his fingers for more friction. Soon you were nearly screaming and pulling him close as you started cumming. Daveed licked his fingers clean, moaning from the taste of you before pulling you into another kiss. He used this chance to push you down on the couch and push your legs open. The wet, soft kisses that trailed down your stomach turned into him sucking more hickies until he reached your inner thighs. 

Daveed sat up, staring at you as if he were admiring a masterpiece. He covered your body in hickies from your thighs to your neck. 

“Tomorrow you’re not wearing a damn thing”, he demanded as he rubbed your thighs, “I want to see every hickey for the entire day. Do you understand?”

A nod was all you could bring yourself to do. The way he stared down at you with that domineering gaze made you feel you didn’t have a choice. He smirked at your present condition because he loved when you were compliant, just ready for him to take control. 

Daveed stripped you of your clothes and laid on his stomach. He pushed your legs, so they were resting on his shoulders while he kept your waist anchored down with his tight grip. He licked your wet folds as he tried to pull you closer than you already were. When you felt his tongue inside of you you attempted to move your hips closer, but he kept you in place. His face buried between your thighs was a sight to see. Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers as his lips found your clit, sucking softly. 

You felt like your body would give out from him hitting your g-spot. While keeping his fingers in you, he moved next to your ear as he rubbed your clit with his other hand. He pressed against your g-spot harder, loving the way you writhed against him. 

“You gonna squirt like last time”, he whispered in your ear

There was nowhere for you to go. Being trapped between your boyfriend and the couch isn’t a terrible experience. 

“Cum for me baby”, he cooed when he felt you squeeze around his fingers

Your entire body trembled as you came again. Daveed made the aftershocks last longer as he rubbed your g-spot. His lips found your neck once more. 

Daveed hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting your body slightly to make room for him to slide in. He groaned at how wet and warm you were, gently squeezing around him. He groaned when he started fucking you. The moment he bottomed out, you thought you saw stars. He filled you to the brim, taking his time with you for the time being. 

“Daveed”, you moaned

“Yes, baby”

“Just feels good”

Daveed smiled as he kissed you, wasting no time slipping his tongue in your mouth. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself against him and the thin veil of sweat that covered his chest. Daveed tried his best to keep himself together. He shamelessly moaned into your mouth, tightening his grip on you as his thrusts became rougher. 

Daveed left sloppy kisses on your cheek before resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Gonna cum”, you mumbled

“I’m close too baby”, Daveed admitted, “Gonna fill you how you like it”

You moaned louder, trying to push yourself closer to him. 

“What if I just put a baby in you? Just cum inside you and get you pregnant”, Daveed shuddered, “Is that what you want? Want me to make you a mommy?”

“Fuck. Yes”, you begged, “Fill me”

Daveed stared at you like a man possessed. The second the words fell past your lips, he fucked you, ready to give you what you both wanted. You came hard with your toes curled as you screamed his name. Daveed kept going. Feeling you tighten around him and your aftershocks pushed him into an orgasm, filling you to the brim. 

With your bodies pressed together, covered in sweat, none of you dared to move. It was too perfect of a moment to pass up. 

“Want to take a shower”, Daveed asked while making no effort to get off of you

“I don’t have the energy for that and by the looks of it, neither do you”

“You’re right”, he sighed, “But on the other hand, how does it feel to be a loser”

“Want me to throw you on the floor?”

“Please don’t”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you until Daveed lifted his head up to smile at you. 

“Do you think it worked this time?”, he sheepishly questioned

“I hope so. Second times the charm”, you said, giving him a reassuring smile

“I know I talk dirty to you during sex, but I really want to have a baby with you. I think we would make great parents”

“I do too. I’m so ready for this”

Daveed pulled you into one more sweet kiss before mumbling something about starting a bath for you. Before you knew it, you were in his arms as he carried you up the stairs, talking about baby names and where to put the nursery. 

Deep down you knew you and Daveed would be alright. 

[ya-girl-mc]

Hammered

Character: Tsukishima Kei × Fem Reader

Concept: Y/N joins Tsukishima and his colleagues for a night of drinking, but ends up embarrassing him as she gets wasted

A/N: Cause I miss getting drunk and doing stupid shit, hence this fic feat. our salty boi ✌ it was rly fun to write this so,, hope u enjoy it too!!

☆☆ A Haikyuu!! Fanfiction ☆☆

Light filtered through the window blinds, rousing Y/N from her slumber as she pried her eyes open, cursing to herself as she felt a stinging pain in her temples. She was hungover, pretty badly at that, and as much as she wracked her brain to try and recall the events that transpired the night before, it only made her headache much worse.

Shit...I don't feel so good.

As her eyes darted around, she was immediately relieved knowing that she was lying down on the couch in her and Tsukishima's living room, managing to deduce - despite her muddled state-of-mind - that someone must have taken care of her in her drunken stupor.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N tried to sit up slowly, wincing as her temples prickled with pain with every movement. In her peripheral vision, however, was her livid-looking boyfriend with probably the deepest scowl she's ever seen as he stared her down from where he sat.

"Kei...?"

"Did you sleep well?" While the inquiry was meant to be out of concern, Tsukishima delivered it in a monotonous, yet utterly chilling manner which only meant one thing: he was pissed.

"What happened? And what's got you frowning so early in the morning?" She carefully questioned, eager yet dreading to find out how she must have royally screwed up the night before to get him this upset. Her curiosity only infuriated Tsukishima more and Y/N could have almost sworn seeing a blackish aura swirl around him.

"You...you really don't remember a damn thing, do you?"

*****

Fridays were usually the most anticipated day of the week for most members of the working class; however, in Tsukishima's case, he was dreading this Friday in particular.

After a strenuous week at the office, his boss suggested the entire team go drinking to reward themselves for their hard work and as a means to de-stress. But, Tsukishima wasn't keen on partaking in such nights of revelry especially after a long week at work as he'd rather spend his Friday nights and weekends relaxing at home with Y/N. The only reason that he decided to tag along is due to her persistence for him to do so.

Sighing deeply to himself, Tsukishima followed his colleagues as they entered the izakaya, chattering excitedly as they settled in at a long table at the far back. Amongst the clientele for that night, one of them in particular caught his attention, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Y/N?"

She was sat on one of the stools overlooking the kitchen. At the sound of her name, she turned towards its source and grinned widely. "Kei! Fancy running into you here and I see that you're also with your team. Good boy!"

He subtly rolled his eyes and sat down on the stool next to hers, unable to fight off a smile that made its way to his face. "Yeah yeah, if I didn't join them I'd never hear the end of it from you. Anyway, are you here alone?"

"Yeah, just stopped by on the way home from work to pick up some gyoza and katsudon for dinner. But wait, maybe I should have gotten takoyaki, too? Or maybe another serving of gyoza-" Y/N rambled as she grabbed the menu, her eyes scanning rapidly over the items.

He just gazed at her in amusement, completely oblivious to the inquisitive stares his co-workers shot their way. Tsukishima in the workplace was usually placid, reserved, and mostly impassive; seeing his relaxed and pleasant demeanor as he interacted with Y/N was especially intriguing to them, wondering amongst themselves just who that woman was in Tsukishima's life.

Keen on finding out the answer, one of his senpais called him over to their table. It suddenly dawned on him that there was no other choice than to formally introduce Y/N to them. And, he definitely was not looking forward to it as he'd never hear the end of their relentless teasing. "Y/N, would you mind coming along with me for a bit?"

Discreetly straightening her clothes and smoothening her hair, Y/N nodded and followed him to where his co-workers sat, anxious to make a good first impression. At their arrival, they immediately trained their gazes on her, just as eager to find out who she was. "Everyone, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. We live together," Tsukishima stated nonchalantly.

The shock on their faces was borderline comical as they stared back at him, their jaws hanging open in disbelief. "Girlfriend?!"

He sighed, already dreading the uproar they're about to cause. Tsukishima was a private person and rarely talked about his personal life as he maintained a firm work-life boundary. It was not like he was embarrassed to introduce his girlfriend to them; he just perceived the entire ordeal to be troublesome as his colleagues would jump at any chance to find something to tease him about.

Y/N straightened herself and bowed. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Thank you very much for taking care of Kei - I mean - Tsukishima all this time."

"I can't believe this!" One of his kouhais wailed. "To think that an office drone like Tsukishima-senpai has a girlfriend, and a very pretty one at that. So what the hell am I exactly doing wrong?"

"Believe me, I could tell you everything that you need to hear," Tsukishima retorted and shot his kouhai a dagger-like glare.

One of his senpais, a man who looked to be in his late 30's, leaned over and flicked his kouhai on the forehead as he winced in response. "Stop bad-mouthing Tsukishima when his girlfriend's literally standing in front of you. Anyway, nice to meet you, Y/N!"

They instantaneously began bombarding her with questions such as "how did you two meet", "how long have you been together", "what do you do for a living", and "of all men, why Tsukishima." Unable to keep up with what almost seemed like an interrogation by his colleagues, Y/N smiled sheepishly and shot Tsukishima a pleading look, silently begging him to bail her out.

"That's enough, all of you. You're creeping the poor lady out." Y/N turned to the man that sat at the head of the table; he exuded authority which practically gives himself away as the boss. Bringing up a cup of sake to his lips, he took a sip and eyed his subordinates sternly, yet the amusement in his gaze was palpable as he shifted his attention to Y/N. "Sorry about that, we just didn't expect our lone wolf Tsukishima to have a girlfriend, so we're all excited to meet you. If you don't mind, maybe you can join us, Y/N?"

"Sir-" Tsukishima began to protest as he felt the work-life boundary he stubbornly maintained begin to crumble; but to his surprise, Y/N seemed keen on accepting the invitation, a bashful smile on her face.

"I'd be happy to, but I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You won't, don't worry about it!" He assured dismissively and proceeded to order another round of drinks and accompanying snacks. "It's a pleasure of ours to get to know you and finally get a glimpse of Tsukishima's life outside of work."

Flattered and amused at how especially eager they seemed to know more about their enigmatic colleague and his girlfriend, Y/N gratefully accepted the invitation. "Alright, a few drinks wouldn't hurt."

*****

"Okay, I remember that much...but it still doesn't explain why you're so pissed," Y/N mused, listening earnestly to Tsukishima as he filled her in on what seemed like a disastrous night of revelry caused by her drunken antics.

He sighed and took off his glasses to rub his temples, the events that transpired the night before seemingly traumatizing him. "That's because you got carried away, you idiot."

*****

A couple of shots was all it needed for Y/N to become fully accustomed with Tsukishima's colleagues and pretty soon, they were chattering away like long-time friends while he fixated his gaze on her, his eyebrows furrowing in mild displeasure.

Aren't they becoming a little bit too friendly with her? And Y/N's just two shots in and she's already starting to get tipsy. Geez, this is so troublesome.

"Hey, one at a time please! I'll answer your questions one by one," Y/N instructed quite giddily, Tsukishima gazing at her in concern as she downed her third shot. He didn't want to be a buzzkill especially when she seemed to genuinely enjoy his colleagues' company and vice versa; however, her alcohol tolerance was remarkably low and it didn't take much for her to become fully inebriated. He decided to keep a watchful eye on her instead to prevent any incident from occurring due to her drunken antics.

"So, how and when did you two meet?"

"Kei and I go way back in high school," Y/N began as everyone at the table listened to her attentively. "He was part of our school's volleyball team and looked so cool as he played! That's when I started to have a crush on him, but it was one-sided though."

And there goes her filter, Tsukishima thought to himself, concealing his exasperation by downing his cup of sake, trying as best as he can to drown out the uproar his colleagues caused at her revelation.

"No way! Tsukishima-senpai was a volleyball player? I just can't imagine that!" One of his kouhais exclaimed, completely perplexed at the thought.

Tsukishima was about to reply with another snide remark, but Y/N was quick to interject. "Hell yeah he was, and he's such a great middle blocker to boot. He played so calmly as he read his opponent's moves...ahhh that composure of his is what makes him so cool!"

While he appreciated her attempt to defend his honor, it only increased everyone's amusement as she fawned over him, much to his chagrin. "So Y/N-" One of his senpais grinned sneakily, and Tsukishima pretty much figured out what the next inquiry will be about. "-who confessed to whom?"

"Oh, that takes me way back!" She mused, leaning against the man in question who sat right next to her. "I didn't have the courage to confess since he seemed so unapproachable and indifferent, so I thought about giving up on him. But as we became seniors, we ended up in the same class and became quite close. Eventually, during our graduation ceremony, Kei pulled me aside and confessed! I was so shocked that I started crying and...well, the rest is history."

"So it was Tsukishima here who confessed!" One of his senpais beamed and threw an arm around his shoulder, clinking his sake cup with his. "The revelations just keep on coming and coming."

"But that's amazing though," their boss remarked, completely engrossed in the conversation as much as his subordinates were. "You've been together for such a long time now. It's pretty rare for high school sweethearts to last that long."

Y/N nodded earnestly and downed her fourth shot before Tsukishima had the chance to snatch it away from her hands. "I agree, but Kei is such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend! He may seem like a sour puss on the outside but he's reaaaaaally sweet and very very clingy! But shhhhh...don't tell him I said that, though."

Ugh great, now she's done it. Tsukishima almost had to cover his ears as everyone at the table guffawed, unable to stomach the idea of their placid colleague and the clingy boyfriend Y/N described being the same person. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and praying for the evening to be over.

*****

Y/N cringed as Tsukishima helped her recall the things she had blurted out amid her inebriated state, starting to slowly understand the reason why he was so livid in the first place. "Okay...first of all, I am so sorry - with every fiber of my being - for embarrassing you like that-"

"That's not all you did," Tsukishima interjected quite menacingly and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep his temper in-check. "As if that wasn't humiliating enough, you managed to exceed my expectations."

*****

A couple more shots later, Y/N was too far gone. She was completely wasted, and Tsukishima couldn't bear to look at his co-workers as they shot each other uneasy looks, the concern palpable in their wordless exchanges. He was utterly embarrassed yet frustrated at himself since she somehow managed to surpass her drinking limit despite being under his watchful eye.

"Heyyyyy, owner! Anotha' round of sake for this table right here, and put it on my tab!"

As Y/N made an attempt to leave the table, she accidentally knocked over a half-empty glass of water, the liquid spilling all over the table as a result. Giggling to herself while Tsukishima's colleagues scrambled to remove their belongings from the table, she attempted to grab a bottle of sake, but he swiftly withheld her attempt to do so, yanking it out of her reach.

"Okay, enough is enough," he reprimanded firmly, setting the bottle down on the table and bringing his face close in an attempt to get through to her. "Y/N, for the love of God, please get ahold of yourself."

"Tsukkiiii...you're hereee!" It was futile, Y/N's glassy eyes an indicator that she was in no condition to listen to reason. She smiled goofily and threw herself into his arms, the sheer force causing Tsukishima to stumble, his arm accidentally knocking over a glass to the floor as it completely shattered as a result.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, did anyone get hurt?" He exclaimed in a state of uncharacteristic panic, his arms struggling to support his drunken mess of a lover as she began mumbling unintelligibly to herself.

"We're good, Tsukishima. Don't worry about it," his boss assured. "But, I think it's best if you take her home, she doesn't look too good."

Yes, good call, that's one way to put it. Goddammit, this is too fucking embarrassing.

Pretty soon, the izakaya's owner approached the group amid the commotion, and with Tsukishima sincerely apologizing and swearing to pay for the damages, he also insisted on paying for the entire group's bill to compensate, but they turned down his offer, advising him and Y/N to get themselves home safely.

Tsukishima thought that the nightmare had ended; apparently, Y/N had more in store as she tapped his boss' shoulder, staring down at him in an attempt to look stern. "Hey sirrrr...can you lay off Tsukki sometimes? 'Cuzzzz...he comes home waaayyyy too late and we barely have enough time to get down and dir-"

"NOOO!" Tsukishima cried out in horror, completely and utterly humiliated as he scrambled to clamp his hand over Y/N's mouth in an attempt to salvage what's left of both of their dignities. However, the force caused her to stagger, her unruly arm knocking over a bottle of sake atop the table. Tsukishima was unable to do anything as he hopelessly watched it topple over, the liquid spilling and trickling down on his boss' lap as he felt every ounce of his life force drain out of his body.

God, if you're listening, then please...I don't care how you do it, but I beg of you...just kill me now.

*****

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Y/N wailed and buried her face in a pillow, unable to bring herself to look at Tsukishima as he unveiled the horrific experience he and his co-workers went through due to her drunken stupor. To say that she was embarrassed was a complete understatement; she was mortified, and it definitely was not an ideal first impression as she mourned for her long gone dignity. "Just kill me, please!"

Tsukishima was practically seething with rage at this point, wishing that the night before had just been a nightmare, yet it was nothing but a cruel reality. "You're embarrassed? How the hell do you think I feel? I lost count of the number of times I had to apologize before I hauled your drunken self home! You literally went crazy, Y/N! How careless, especially knowing that you can't handle alcohol well!"

She deserved to be scolded. Y/N lifted her head from the pillow and looked up at him, her eyes prickling with tears as she wallowed in her shame. "Kei...I'm so sorry. You're right, I was careless and I embarrassed you in front of your co-workers. I really didn't mean to! Oh my god...what if you got fired-" It must have been the after-effects of her hangover that made her an emotional mess as she felt tears running down her face, berating herself for acting in such a distasteful manner - in public and in front of his colleagues, at that.

Tsukishima deeply sighed to regain his composure. He settled down next to his lover on the couch, his hand rubbing across her back as he tried to calm her down. "Don't be ridiculous. I won't get fired over something like that, the boss isn't that shallow. He even called me up as soon as we got home to ask how you were doing."

At his gesture, Y/N bawled even harder, the tears streaming endlessly down her face. "I'm really sorry for ruining your night. I promise that I won't do it again."

"Y/N," Tsukishima began and tipped up her chin, locking his golden eyes with her puffy ones. "Look, I'm even more upset that you weren't being careful. I won't stop you from drinking, but you've got to be more aware of your own limitations. What if I wasn't there with you? What if you were alone and there was no one you trusted to take care of you?"

He's right, I'm such an idiot. I sure as hell won't be drinking anytime soon especially after last night's debacle!

She only managed a nod, sniffing profusely as she fished out her handkerchief to wipe her tear-stained face. "I'm so sorry, Kei. I swear that I'll be careful next time."

"You better be, you drunkard," he playfully retorted, the corners of his mouth subtly twitching upwards at how undeniably adorable she was being.

"So...you're not mad anymore?" Y/N inquired softly, looking up at Tsukishima with pleading eyes. While his earlier rage was now long gone, he did go through quite an ordeal, and he wasn't keen on letting her off the hook that easy as he wickedly grinned at her.

Oh, shit. I don't like that look.

"Sorry Y/N, but you're not getting off that easy. You did humiliate the both of us after all," he stated deviously, his smile widening at the uneasy expression on her face. "So for the next two weeks, you'll be doing all the household chores, and you're on bathroom cleaning duty for the entire month."

She sighed and nodded defeatedly. It was definitely a pain, but Y/N was resolute on serving her punishment to atone for what she did. However, she couldn't help but feel relieved since she had expected something way worse; doing all the household chores seemed quite tame in comparison to what she had imagined.

But then again, this was Tsukishima, and as he sensed her apparent relief, he laid out the pinnacle of her punishment, unable to fight off the sadistic grin on his face. "And, as soon as you're not hungover anymore, we'll be paying each of my colleagues a visit so you can sincerely apologize for what you did."

Y/N gawked at him, her heart dropping to her stomach. "C-come again?" He's not serious. He can't be...right? Right?!

"You heard me." Tsukishima was dead serious. She knew that something was amiss with his household chores punishment; he may be her boyfriend, but he definitely was a sadistic bastard if he needed to be.

"NOOO!" She wailed, completely mortified at the prospect as she began hitting him with the pillow, her hangover being the least of her concerns. "Please Kei, anything but that! I'd rather not meet them again for the rest of my living days, so please!"

Tsukishima chuckled and stilled her movements, staring her down to show just how serious he was. "Well, that just means that this punishment is befitting, right? At least now you'll think twice before letting yourself get wasted again. This will be a good learning experience for you."

Y/N knew that there was no other way to escape from her upcoming predicament. Completely at a loss, she only managed to shoot Tsukishima the harshest glare that she could muster. "Fine. If it will make you happy, you sadistic bastard."

Knowing that he had emerged victorious for this round, he let out a carefree laugh and planted an affectionate kiss atop her disheveled hair. "I appreciate it. Now, let's get that hangover treated real quick."

[seanfalco]

New York State of Mind: Part II | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Language, Smut (rough sex, public sex, pool sex) Summary: The Quad comes back to the hotel after their night out, but they’re all still a little pent-up.  a/n: Like Flor mentioned last week, the NYC arc is probably one of my favourites as well!  It’s definitely a turning point for them.

[ masterlist ] [ New York State of Mind Part I ]

——

"Dancing through life, skimming the surface, gliding where turf is smooth.  Life is painless for the brainless..." Lydia sang mindlessly as they walked down the 51st after she made everyone wait for her to get her Playbill signed at the stage door.  It was probably the third or fourth time she had seen that show live, but she never ceased to be amazed by Elphaba's powerful solos, Glinda's giant bubble, and the enormous clock of the time dragon above the stage. 

"So, what did you guys think?" she asked as they passed through Times Square on the way back to the hotel.

“It was exciting!” Win exclaimed, smiling fondly at how happy Lyddie looked.  “I think that’s the first musical I’ve ever seen live,” she said. 

“Same here,” her Nathan added.  “It was somethin’ else.”

"It's one of my favorite shows ever, but I can't wait for Waitress to open in four years... By the way I saw you tearing up during For Good," Lydia poked her own Nathan. 

"No, I did not!  Somethin' got in my eye!" 

"Yeah, funny how something always gets in your eye every time we watch that show... I'm so glad everyone had a good time!" Lydia exclaimed.

“Aww, Nathan, such a softie,” Win teased, bumping Lyddie’s Nathan with her shoulder as she grinned up at him. 

“So... now what?” Win’s Nathan asked, unable to forget what Lyddie’d said to him in the cab on the way there.

"Now... I can't wait to get to our room and out of these clothes," she winked at him, taking his hand as they stepped into the elevator.  She wanted to tease him a little, make him beg, but she didn't have it in her to do so, she wanted him too much, there was no way to hold back.

Win’s Nathan grinned wider.  “Sounds like a solid plan,” he agreed and Win rolled her eyes.

“What about you, Natty?” she asked, addressing Lyddie‘s Nathan.

"Oh, y'know, I'm a little jet lagged, I'd love t'get some sleep," he teased, but broke down laughing at Win's expression.  "Classic... I can't wait t'help you out o'these clothes too."

“Uh huh, just for that, maybe I’ll just take a little swim and then go t’bed myself,” she replied, turning the cold shoulder on him, ruined somewhat by the grin that tugged at her lips.

"Aw, so petty..." Lyddie's Nathan wrapped his arms around her, nipping at her neck.  "I know what y'want, baby, it's alright," he whispered in her ear.

"Finally!" Lydia exclaimed as the elevator stopped, pulling Win's Nathan down the hall and fumbling with the key for a few seconds before opening the door.  "I'm burning up!"

“What’s got you so hot and bothered, Lyddie?” Win asked knowingly, cocking an eyebrow at her as she threaded her own fingers with the other Nathan’s.

"Um..." Lydia froze for a second.  "You know... I'm a sucker for his cocky charm, and look at those eyes, am I right?"  She glossed over it, shedding her dress and kicking her shoes away as soon as she entered the room.

“Isn’t that what you like about both Nathans though?” Win pressed, gasping as Lyddie’s Nathan pinched her.

"Yeah, of course... But-but he's the only one who didn't have his way with me today."  Lydia threw herself on the bed.  

"The bastard knows how t'get her pent up without even tryin'," Lyddie's Nathan whispered in Win's ear.  "But I'm here, baby, all yours."

“Yeahh it’s only fair!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, quickly shedding his clothes, almost tripping in his haste while Win shivered at Lyddie’s Nathan’s voice in her ear and she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck as she pressed herself against him. 

“Lucky me,” she purred, gazing up at him.

"So, Winnie," Lyddie's Nathan brushed his lips along Win's jaw. "D'you wanna stay here or go have that swim? I bet it's empty right now..."

“A swim sounds amazing,” she answered, her breath hitching.  “I don’t think I remembered to pack a swimsuit though,” she murmured in his ear.

"That's unfortunate..." Lyddie's Nathan opened the door, slapping Win ass on the way out.  "Guess the cameras’ll stop workin' tonight."

"I wanna give everyone some special attention..." Lydia murmured, bringing Win's Nathan close, barely noticing the door shutting behind the others, kissing him hungrily, moving with urgency.  "You have no idea how much I want you right now." 

“Holy shit, Lyddie,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed as she pulled him atop her. “God, you’re so hot,” he groaned, burying his face in her tits.

Lydia moaned under his touch, all the built-up tension finally dissolving in his arms.  "Fuck me until I can't remember my own name, Natty," she took his face in her hands, making him look up at her. 

Win’s Nathan raised his head, his brows raising as well.  “Whatever you want, Lollipop, my cock is yours to command,” he exclaimed, crawling atop her, reaching between them to tease her entrance with his tip.

"And the rest of you, huh?" Lyddie giggled, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist.  "Will you do anything for me?" 

“I’ll do anythin’ yeh want, princess,” he moaned, pressing into her.  “Just say th’word.  I’m all yours tonight.” 

Lydia felt a tingle, a knot in her stomach and she reached for a bottle her own Nathan had gotten from the mini-fridge, a tiny bottle of Baileys.  "Fancy a drink?  I wanna taste it on your tongue." 

Win’s Nathan took the bottle from her and tipped back the rest of the contents.  “You don’t like t’drink, but you wanna taste it on me, huh?” he teased, leaning down to kiss her as he slid into her, his tongue finding hers as he filled her. 

"Uhum..." she moaned into his mouth, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.  "Everything tastes better like this."  She held on tightly to his shoulders, wanting him as close as possible.  

Win’s Nathan moaned into her mouth as she pulled him closer and he braced himself against the bed as he began to rut into her, each hard thrust bringing a cry to Lydia’s lips.  “Oh fuck, you’re so hot like this Lollipop,” he groaned. 

"Yes, yes, Natty, please..." Lydia squirmed, arching her back, seeking his lips again.  "Tell me I'm yours, I wanna hear you," she whimpered. 

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re all mine, Lydia,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, his lips crashing against hers as he fucked her even rougher, grunting with each thrust.  

"All yours," she breathed, feeling like she could explode any minute, her pleasure racing through her body once again.  "I'm getting close, Nate..." 

“Don’t come until I say, darlin’,” he growled, sweat rolling down his temple, his muscles starting to cramp, but damn if she didn’t feel good.  “Do you still remember your name?” he asked breathlessly, not slowing. 

"I won't."  it took all her might not to come, he didn't slow down, it was almost impossible to hold back, but she was way too obedient. "I remember slightly..." 

“Good girl,” Win’s Nathan groaned, his thrusts slowing and becoming jerky.  “Ohhh okay, baby, I want yeh to come.  Come for me, Lollipop,” he cried, pressing his forehead to hers as he rammed into her, coming undone deep inside her. 

Following his command, Lydia finally came, burying her face on his shoulder to muffle her moans as she felt him filling her up.  "Oh my... That's just what I needed, now I feel better," she sighed. 

Nathan rolled off her, panting as he caught his breath. “Shit that was hot, Lyddie.  What got you so horny?” he asked with a breathless chuckle.  “I mean, Winnie got you off right before we left...”

"You did..." she snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. "You're just so sexy, couldn't help myself."  She looked down, kissing his warm skin and hoping he didn't have her Nathan's ability to call out her bullshit. 

“I don’t think I did anything particularly sexy,” he mused, trying to remember, but he was growing sleepy.  Pulling Lyddie into his arms, he tucked her head under his chin. 

"Yeah, you were just being you..."  She placed a loving kiss on his chest, stroking his curls gently.  "I love you, Nats." 

“I love yeh too, Lyddie,” Nathan murmured, still sure he was missing something, but unable to put his finger on it. 

Lydia was finally able to breathe again.  He didn't know, thank God!  It was enough to have one Nathan weaponizing her... peculiar tastes, two would be a complete car wreck. "Good night, baby." 

Nathan was already out, his chest rising and falling peacefully as he held Lydia. 

——

Win laughed as the door shut behind them, arousal flooding her at the prospect of skinny dipping in the hotel pool, and this time on the elevator ride back down she pulled Lyddie’s Nathan in, kissing him hungrily as she massaged his growing bulge through his jeans.

"I see Lyds isn't isn't only one all worked up," Lyddie's Nathan groaned, kissing Win back with the same enthusiasm, his hands sliding down her back teasingly.

“Yeah, well, maybe Lyddie’s not the only one who’s feeling a little neglected,” Win pouted as the doors dinged open.

"No problem, I can fix that."  Lyddie's Nathan draped his arm around Win on the way to the pool, his hand brushing slightly over the slope of her breasts.

“I’m glad,” Win murmured, glancing around as they got to the pool.  It looked pretty deserted. “Looks like you were right, we’re the only ones here.”

"Sounds like a good time."  Lyddie's Nathan snapped his fingers, turning all the security cameras off and dimming the lights.  "Now let's get this off, shall we?" he said, unzipping her dress and exposing her chest.

Win gasped as the cool air hit her, her skin pebbling and she helped Lyddie’s Nathan out of his clothes til they were both naked.

"Jesus, y'look so sexy right now," Lyddie's Nathan exclaimed, capturing Win's lips, his thigh moving slowly between her legs, teasing her.  "Look at that... So wet for me."

“That’s right, Natty,” Win purred, kissing him back. “That’s not the only thing about to be wet,” she taunted, pushing him in the pool without warning, shrieking as he grabbed her on his way down, pulling her in with him.

"Y'think you're so clever, huh?"  Lyddie's Nathan emerged from the pool, shaking his hair around like a dog.  "Y'little tart!" he exclaimed, pulling Win closer, biting her neck hard enough to leave a mark as she cried out, amusement melting to a moan as she clutched at him, feeling his erection against her hip as they floated. 

“I think I’m pretty clever,” she exclaimed, breathing heavily as she melted against him, pressing her face to his shoulder.

"Y'do, do ya?" he groaned, kneading her breasts roughly under the water.  He was well aware water wasn't the best lubricant, so he concentrated for a second before sliding his cock inside of Win.  "Jesus, I love this power..." he chuckled, pinning her against one of the pool walls.

Win wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he moved inside her. “I’ve never shagged in a public pool before,” she confessed, playing with the wet curls plastered to Lyddie’s Nathan’s neck.  “You know—“ she paused to gasp as he filled her completely, hitting her deeply, “—you may know all of Lyddie’s turn ons and kinks, but I doubt you know mine,” she purred.

"Me neither, only the bathtub back home," Lyddie's Nathan grunted as he bucked his hips, thrusting firmly into her.  "I'd love t'know, Winnie, what gets you all hot and bothered?" he murmured while kissing her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys behind.

“Oh,” Win moaned, holding onto Nathan tighter as they bobbed in the water, each thrust pushing her back into the pool wall, but she didn’t care. “S-so you can use them against me?” she teased.  “How about I give you three guesses.”

"So it's all fun and games when we use Lyddie's kinks against her, but not yours?  Doesn't seem fair..." he mumbled, picking up his pace, fighting the urge to finish before Win.  "I think y'like t'shag in public places, don'tcha?"

“I guess you’re right...” Win murmured, turning her head away sheepishly, suddenly feeling guilty.  “Yeah, I do,” she admitted.

"Yeah, you also like t'be a tease, right?  Drive us all mad..." Lyddie's Nathan's chest was heaving as he stared down at their bodies connected in the water.

“Looks like you already got me all figured out, don’t you,” Win said softly, coming with a whimper, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

Lyddie's Nathan thrusted a couple more times as he came before pulling out.  "That's the problem, I don't think I do... and I want to.  I wanna know everythin'."

Win blinked as she turned her face back to Lyddie’s Nathan.  “...You do?”  Her words were so soft he barely heard them.  “Then ask me, I’ll... I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

"You already know how t'tease me, but what do you like, huh?  How can I get under your skin like I do to Lyds?" he whispered before pressing his lips to Win's shoulder.

Win shuddered at the tender caress of his lips.  “Uhm... I... I like PDA.  I like it when you’re bold in public.  I like being marked up where people can see.  I... I mean, you know I like being on top, but I like a little power struggle,” she admitted, the words spilling out, confessing her secrets and her desires to Lyddie’s Nathan as they floated in the pool.  

“I like playful banter, and when you stretch and I can see just that strip of skin between your shirt and your jeans.  I like th’way you look when you smoke.  And I... I like it like this... when you’re sweet t’me.” Win looked away, her gaze wavering.  “I know you all think I’m this tough, cool girl all the time, but I’m softer than I look... I just want someone to see that too.”

Nathan grinned, listening to every detail and nodding to show he was paying attention.  "All that can be arranged," he tucked a strand of Win's wet hair behind her ear and kissed her temple.  "I should probably work on bein' sweeter, t'you and t'Lyddie too, I can be sweet... and you girls deserve it.  I always knew there was a soft little heart under that bad girl exterior," Nathan teased, poking her playfully.  "That's why I love you, baby."

“I love you too, Nathan,” Win murmured, giving a tremulous smile as she blinked back the tears that had gathered in her eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Nathan held Win against his chest, he’d definitely noticed how teary she’d gotten, but he didn't wanna embarrass her by pointing it out.  He simply kissed the top of her head and sighed.  How could a moment be so romantic when they were both naked in a hotel pool past midnight after shagging?  It just was, it was special. 

"Wanna get back? I am pretty jet lagged," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Win agreed, Nathan's yawn infectious and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

Helping Lyddie's Nathan out of the pool she grabbed two towels from the rack near the wall and wrapped hers around herself, tucking it around her chest as he wrapped his around his waist and grabbed their discarded clothes.  The elevator ride back to their floor was quiet, but Win didn't mind, Lyddie's Nathan's arm wrapped around her.

Nathan smiled when he saw Lydia and his clone already sleeping peacefully.  She looked so cute like that... 

"D'you think he figured it out yet?" he idly waved his hand making so both him and Win were dry and ready for bed.  It was weird to think he was so clueless when the very first time it happened back in the Community Centre, he immediately knew by the look in Lyddie's eyes.

"I doubt it," Win snorted, watching her boyfriend snoring softly, her heart constricting with affection.  "Say what you will about my Nathan, but he's not exactly the brightest sometimes," she murmured, crawling in the bed next to him, pulling Lyddie's Nathan with her.

"I feel like I should be offended..." he laughed, taking Win in his arms.  "But I'm too tired for that," he laughed, pulling the heavy duvet to cover all of them.  "Good night, baby."

"Good night, Natty," Win replied, scooting closer to press a kiss to his jaw before settling in his arms.

——

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF. 

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH) 

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED. 

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen 

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here." 

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give  them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough. 

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it. 

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting. 

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]? 

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE) 

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:" 

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?" 

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME 

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE