#and light a fire on top of the bucket

[lordadmiralfarsight]

I think it's important to point out : the 14% of revenue. It's 14% of REVENUE. Not BENEFITS. Not PROFITS. REVENUES.

Revenues is the raw amount of money that goes IN the company. It's before taxes. It's before costs. It's before salaries. It's before EVERYTHING.

I struggle to think of a single video game that could pay that, aside from the few gigantic successes. I struggle to think of any INDUSTRIES where a cost of 14% of your revenues doesn't erase your profit margin in its entirety.

@lastoneout that business model isn't just profoundly stupid : it's attempted murder of basically every Unity client.

This is greed taken to such a level of suicidal stupidity that it cannot be properly put into words.

At this point, I genuinely wouldn't be surprised if they DID sic mercenaries on him and published a graphic video of torture and murder to make an exemple out of him. Because it's wildly, stupidly out of any business related proportion.

Actually, this Unity mess makes sense when you learn that they've got the guy behind such brilliant ideas as "we should charge players per bullet in fps games" and "all together the Sims 4 expansion packs cost over $800" running the goddamn company.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which the next chapter begins

new york city hums like it knows what’s about to happen. there’s a kind of electricity in the air, thick with promise and nerves, and as your driver weaves through the busy streets, you watch paige take it all in from the backseat—her face turned to the window, hood pulled over her head, hand clasped tightly in yours.

“this doesn’t feel real,” she murmurs, eyes wide as they track the towering buildings, the people, the energy. “like, i’m actually here.”

you squeeze her hand. “you’re not dreaming, bueckers.”

she smirks, still dazed. “you sure? 'cause being in new york with you, about to get drafted number one… i must’ve done something right.”

you look at her—at the soft awe in her voice, the nerves she’s trying to hide—and smile. “you earned all of this.”

she leans over and kisses the back of your hand. “wouldn’t be here without you.”

the hotel lobby smells like roses and money. a few of the other top picks are checking in, media reps scattered around, coaches from various teams exchanging polite nods. paige walks in with her backpack slung over one shoulder like she’s still in college, but she’s greeted like a queen.

people look at you too—curious, trying to place you. her plus one, but not a public one. not yet.

upstairs, the suite is stunning. floor-to-ceiling windows, champagne already chilling in a silver bucket on the table, and a view of manhattan that would knock the breath out of anyone.

paige walks straight to the window. “god,” she whispers. “how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

you wrap your arms around her from behind. “you won’t. and that’s okay.”

the next few days are a whirlwind of cameras and flashing lights, pre-draft interviews, and moments stolen in between where paige clings to you like you’re the only thing keeping her grounded.

you walk with her to early press calls, watch her shake hands with executives and talk to reporters with the perfect balance of humility and fire. she rides up the empire state building in an elevator full of pr staff, but she only holds your hand. at the top, she stands by the glass and whispers, “feels like the whole world’s watching.”

“they are,” you say, brushing your fingers against hers. “and they’re about to see what happens when a star rises.”

the suite becomes a glam studio before the sun even rises. stylists, makeup artists, wardrobe specialists—all bustling around paige while she sits in the middle of it all, cross-legged in a robe, sipping coffee like she isn’t about to have her life change forever.

her stylist calls you over as you’re about to change into the outfit you packed.

“actually,” she says, holding up a garment bag. “this is for you.”

you blink. “that’s not mine.”

“it is now. paige picked it out. said it had to be perfect.”

your chest tightens as you unzip the bag, revealing a dress so perfectly you, it feels unreal. the fabric is soft, expensive, and the color—something muted and romantic—brings out your features in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

“she did this?” you whisper.

“she wanted you to feel special today too.”

you change in the bathroom, hands shaking slightly. when you finally step out, paige is standing near the window, fully dressed in a glittery-dark colored custom suit that has her shimmering with every step, her curls falling effortlessly over her shoulders.

she turns—and everything slows.

her mouth parts. “holy... you look…”

you laugh, flushed. “you too. you clean up alright, bueckers.”

she walks up to you, cups your jaw gently. “you’re unreal. thank you for being here today.”

“there’s nowhere else i’d be.”

the red carpet outside the venue is chaos—reporters, photographers, wnba legends, fans with signs, people shouting paige’s name like it’s already etched into history.

you try to stay a step behind her, to let her soak in her spotlight, but she won’t have it. her hand wraps around your waist and stays there. through the cameras, the chaos, the interviews—she keeps you close.

you’re standing just off to the side when the espn interviewer waves paige over for a quick one-on-one. the camera is rolling, and you make a move to step back, but paige pulls you forward by the hand.

the interviewer smiles knowingly. “paige bueckers! big night. how are we feeling?”

paige smiles back, calm and radiant. “excited. grateful. nervous. all of it.”

“you’re projected to go number one overall—does that add pressure?”

“a little,” she admits. “but i try to block it out. i’m here to soak it in and be present.”

the interviewer nods, glancing at you briefly. “and you’ve got some company tonight. can we ask who your date is?”

paige glances your way, and you feel her fingers squeeze yours.

“she’s someone very special to me,” paige says, voice even but warm. “we’re here to celebrate the moment. that’s what tonight’s about.”

“so… are you confirming you’re in a relationship?”

she chuckles, not flustered at all. “i’m confirming that i’m not doing tonight alone. that’s all you get.”

“alright, alright,” the interviewer laughs. “we’ll take it.”

twitter explodes five seconds later.

inside the venue, the lights dim and the countdown begins. you sit beside paige, her hand still wrapped in yours like a lifeline. her leg bounces. her breath hitches every time someone coughs into a mic.

“paige,” you whisper, turning to her. “hey. breathe.”

she nods, but doesn’t look at you. her eyes are on the stage.

“whether you go first or fifth,” you murmur, pressing your forehead to hers, “you’re still the most incredible person in this room. and i’ll be just as proud no matter what.”

her eyes flutter closed. she exhales.

“promise?” she whispers.

“promise.”

then the lights shift. the wnba commissioner walks to the podium. the music swells.

“with the first pick in the 2024 wnba draft, the dallas wings select… paige bueckers, university of connecticut.”

the room erupts.

paige turns to you—eyes wide, heart on her sleeve—and she kisses you.

right there. full, gentle, and certain.

the room falls silent for a heartbeat, and then explodes again.

@/espnw: she’s the number one pick. she also just kissed her girl on live tv. paige bueckers is here.

@/wnba: #1 pick. #1 moment. paige bueckers delivers the most unforgettable draft night kiss of all time.

@/bleacherreport: paige bueckers. first pick. first public kiss. iconic.

@/gaysportsnerd: so like… when do we get the engagement photos?

@/dallaswings: welcome to dallas, @/paigebueckers!

@/overtime: not just #1 on the court. paige bueckers just dropped the most iconic draft night moment of all time.

@/chennedyfan99: paige bueckers said “i’m number one and i’m in love, what about it?”

later, after the cheers settles and the cameras stop flashing, paige wraps her arms around you on the balcony of the hotel suite. new york glows behind you, and she leans her head on your shoulder.

“i didn’t plan the kiss,” she says softly.

“i know.”

“but i meant it.”

“i know.”

she turns her face to yours, brushing your cheek with her nose. “i want to be number one in everything. including with you.”

“you already are,” you whisper. “you always have been.”

she smiles, soft and golden. “forever, huh?”

“hell yeah.”

[artstennisracket]

request: please I’m begging you write more parts to the Patrick Zweig Coach fucking his much younger client I’m dying that was too good

tennis coach!Patrick x fem reader, part 1

cw: nsfw (18+), d/s overtones tbh, dom!patrick, dirty talk, minimal use of daddy kink (reader says it once), not proofread

You were sore for that next week of practice. Getting fucked by a tennis racket handle wasn’t on your bucket list but you’re not particularly mad at it either.

You thought the dynamic would change between you and your coach but it’s like he went right back to ignoring you.

It wasn’t until Wednesday’s practice when you were preparing for a tournament you had this weekend.

You were genuinely out of it. You were going to be versing Anna Mueller and she’s currently ranked number 4 for women’s juniors. Sometimes you got in your head about things even if you knew how good you were.

During your serve drills Patrick could tell you were off. By the time you got to scrimmaging you weren’t giving it your all to beat him like you usually would.

On your next rally Patrick catches the ball instead of returning your serve. He walks to middle meeting you at the net, “You’re not fucking with me right? What’s going on?”

You sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the cardigan tied around your shoulders, “No I’m not I just- I keep thinking about the tournament this weekend.”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Anna Mueller is all show, no real skill. And she’s a racist bitch, you’ll beat her into the ground without even trying.”

You let out a chuckle at that statement, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or light a fire under my ass,” I mean who doesn’t want to beat their opponents, especially the racist ones.

He smirks, “Why can’t it be both?,” He takes a step closer, the net still in between you two. You instinctively take a step closer just to be in his personal space. He bites his lip quickly, you can tell he’s thinking. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “And I said if you were good this weekend, I’d give you what you want.”

The smell of cigarettes fills your senses. A smell you usually hate but for some reason it just works for him. You let your eyes slip close momentarily to imagine what your first time with Patrick would be like because jesus fuck—

“We don’t have all day L/N, let’s go,” He calls out from his place on the other side of the court. Shit, how long were you standing there with your eyes closed?

You half jog back to your side of the court and take your cardigan off. When did it get so hot?

You turn quickly to look at him again, only to see him quickly push his sunglasses back down and clear his throat. Oh he was totally staring.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Ready Zweig?” You call out right before you serve an ace.

…

The tournament had just finished and you absolutely crushed Anna Mueller. You tanked in the first set but came back and won the last two by a good margin. You were so zoned in you didn’t even notice when Patrick had moved his tennis bag to his lap to cover up his problem.

You were so hyped at the end, you felt like it was the best tennis you’ve ever played. Not to mention the points you’d win from this to boost your own rank.

You looked around the stands for Patrick but he was nowhere to be found. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion but you’re sure you’ll see him later. Your parents had covered two hotel rooms for you both for the weekend.

You made your way back to the hotel so you could take a shower and change. Once you finished there was a knock on your door.

You opened it to find Patrick leaning against the door frame with a CVS bag in his hand. You took a second to take him in. Curls damp, like he just took a shower. You were able to actually look in his eyes for longer than a millisecond (since he’s always wearing sunglasses) and they were beautiful. A mashup of light hazel and green. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans that stretched over his long legs. And he was only wearing socks? No shoes.

“You gonna let me in or you wanna keep checking me out?” He smirks. You move to the side so he can walk inside.

You close the door as he takes a seat on the bed after placing the CVS bag on the night stand.

“Where’d you go? After my match.” You ask sitting next to him so your thighs are touching.

He shifts so he can face you, “Had to get some stuff, take a shower,” He gestures to the bag on the nightstand.

“You didn’t even see if I won or not, and what did you just have to get from CVS?” You ask. To be honest you’re not even really paying attention, just enjoying being this close in his personal space. Maintaining eye contact so you can fully drink in this dreamlike experience.

“Just condoms,” He’s says so causally like it’s toothpaste or something.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, “Don’t they sell that at the little hotel store downstairs?”

He smirks again, “And how would you know that?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, “I just wanted to check I guess. And you never answered my questions.”

He shrugs, “I already knew you were gonna win and downstairs they didn’t have magnum.” He says so casually AGAIN. Fuck.

He sees the “oh fuck” realization on your face so he has to ask, “You’re not a virgin right?”

You shake your head no. Quite the opposite actually but he just made you nervous for some reason.

He moves his hand to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb resting just above your ear, “What happened to the confident little brat who made me fuck her with a racket huh?”

Fuck. You move forward to crash your lips together, you’ve been waiting for this for too long to get nervous now.

He kisses you back and it’s almost bruising. Tongue, lips, and exchanging spit. It’s filthy. He pulls you back before he says, “On your knees.”

You followed that command quicker than the speed of your serves. He chuckles softly and you look up at him, hoping this time you’d get what you want and not a tennis racket.

He stands up so your face to face with his clothed bulge. You can feel your mouth start to water subconsciously. He unzips his jeans, pulling them down until they fall at his ankles. Now he was just stood in front of you in his boxer briefs and a much more prominent bulge.

You felt some need to prove to yourself so you start to mouth at his bulge through his underwear.

“Fuck, woah slow down. Did I say you could do that?” He groans while grabbing your hair and pulling you off.

“No but I just—“

“I thought you said you were gonna be good? You were good this whole week, don't mess it up now.”

“Okay I’m sorr—“

“First rule is you only speak if I say so okay? Or if I ask you a question. Got it?”

You nod before you realize he just asked you a question. You rush out, “Yes yep got it.”

He smiles, “You’ve always been a pretty quick learner.” He moves his hand from your hair back to his own underwear. He pulls them down slowly, letting his hard length spring free and fuck. You knew he was big but this was a lot.

He continues, “Now, I’m gonna let you suck my cock but don’t try to be too ambitious. If I want you to take more, you’ll know. And if you need me to stop for any reason just pinch me.”

You nod staying in your place on your knees. He grips the base of his cock, rubbing his tip along your lips. You want so badly to open your mouth, lick the tip with your tongue. But you can’t, not yet.

“You can open.”

Before he even finishes that statement your mouth is open and you’re sucking on the tip. Little kitten licks in between. You refrain from trying to swallow him down because you haven’t been instructed to yet.

He moves his hand back to your hair, pushing you further down. You choke a little, but try to keep calm so your gag reflex doesn’t act up.

He lets out a low groan as he keeps pushing in, “Fuck,” and then he pulls out almost all the way before he presses back in.

This time you try to suck to the best of ur ability. Making a mess, spit building up in your mouth, covering his cock, drooling out of the sides of your mouth. You still haven’t taken it all but you bob your head up and down, covering the expanse of his cock that he’s allowed you to take.

The wet sounds of you choking, gasping, and breathing hard around his dick filling the room. Soon he pulls all the way out letting out an exasperated, “Fuck babe, gotta prep you now. Get up.”

You stand up, knees feeling sore from the roughness of the hotel carpet.

“Take off your clothes and lay down on your back.” He says, stroking his cock aimlessly, waiting for you to lay down.

This is the fastest you’ve ever taken your clothes off, record speed. You get into position, laying down on your back. A few pillows behind you so your back is elevated. He lays down on his stomach between your legs, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed.

He lets his finger run down the middle of your folds, gently grazing your clit, before he pushes into your hole.

“You’re so wet already, maybe I didn’t have to prep you,” He says before adding a second finger, pumping in and out of your slick hole.

He picks up the pace and you are a moaning mess. Moaning, whining, and whimpering just from his fingers as he keeps pressing against the right spot.

“Does that feel good baby?” He asks before he inserts a third, curling his fingers inside you now.

You nod before you remember that you have to answer verbally, “Yes please more, feels so good.”

He speeds up his pace, assaulting the soft spongy spot inside of you until you feel something build up in your stomach. He keeps eye contact with you, biting his lip as he watches the pleasure take over your face.

“Ah, ah, ah—Patrick wait I- fuck” You say in a high pitched whine as a rush of liquid gushes out of you, squirting all over his fingers.

Patrick pulls his fingers out, “Knew you had it in you,” he smirks moving up on the bed to capture your lips in another kiss.

This kiss is slow, like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. He bites your lip as he pulls away from the kiss, “Good?”

You nod definitely a little out of it. “Yeah,” you reply, your volume barely above a whisper.

“Still wanna keep going?” He asks, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

You nod, biting your lip as you smile, “Duh. Didn’t get what I want yet.”

He scoffs playfully, “I could argue that you did.” He grabs the CVS bag and opens the box of condoms, taking one out. “Would you like to do the honors?”

You nod again, sitting up on your knees and opening the wrapper. He strokes himself a few times to get himself back to full hardness before you roll on the condom.

He moves you to lay down on the other (dry) side of the bed and lines up with your entrance. He drags his tip along the center of your folds, teasing your hole, “Sure this is what you really want?”

You let out a huff, “Yes Patrick, how many times do I have to tell—shit“ Your cut off as he pushes inside of you.

He looks up at you as he bottoms out, “You still good?” He grunts out.

“Stop treating me like a baby, I can take it,” You gasp out. It really is a lot. You feel ridiculously full. Almost comparable to the tennis racket. “You literally fucked me with tennis racket.”

“Ungrateful as always,” He shakes his head before he pulls out. You whine at the loss before he flips you over so your face down ass up.

“You were good all week, now you wanna be an ungrateful slut,” he tsks before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck,” You basically scream out at the abrupt intrusion. He grabs both your wrists, holding them behind your back, before he really starts fucking into you.

He grunts out, “I was trying to be nice but you keep testing me, fuck you feel so good.”

He continues holding both your wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand grabs your hair. Pulling you up so he can whisper in your ear, “So you’re gonna take whatever I decide to fucking give you, got it?”

You let out a whimper from how overwhelmed with pleasure you feel, “Yes fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He smirks, “Too late for that.” He lets go of your hair letting you fall back into position. He grips your hips and starts pounding into you. Each thrust more bruising than the last. Hard and fast. It feels like you’re gonna break.

You go from leaning into the thrusts pushing yourself back against him, to almost trying to pull away. Not because you weren’t enjoying it but because your g-spot was starting to get overstimulated, it was starting to feel too good.

“Fuck baby, can’t run away now. This is what you asked for right? What you’ve been drooling over for the past two years huh? Bet you used to touch yourself thinking about this right?”

You can’t even think straight enough to realize he’s asking a question. It’s not until he comes to a halt to say, “I asked you a fucking question.”

Now that he’s still inside you, your brain finally processes what he said. “Yes fuck, Patrick I— yes, I did, I did. Please don’t stop please,” You whine.

He picks up his pace again as tears start to fall down your face. He can hear your sniffling mixed in with your moans, “Aw baby, are you crying? Does it feel too good?”

You nod. Your face smushed against the pillow that’s catching your fallen tears. You let out a weak, “Yes daddy,” and you don’t even realize what you just said, too fucked out to register.

“Shit why would you— fuck,” His hips stutter, “Christ you’re so fucking—fuck baby you’re gonna be the end of me.”

“Please please, so close,” You whimper. You can feel yourself on the edge until-

“Cum for me baby, want you to finish all over my cock, this what you’ve wanted for two years right? Show me how much you needed it.”

And that’s all it takes. You feel that sudden rush again before you squirt all over Patrick’s dick. He curses under his breath pulling all the way out in between thrusts to fully see it. That image is enough to have him spilling inside the condom, his thrusts stilling.

He pulls out slowly, taking the condom off and throwing it away. He grabs a small hand towel from the bathroom and comes back to you on the bed half asleep.

“I figured you’d be too tired to shower but are you sure you wanna sleep here? My room’s right next to yours and my bed isn’t…yeah.”

You nod sleepily, “‘Mkay, there’s a connecting door I think?” You lazily gesture to the door in the middle of the wall.

“Oh that’s…convenient.” He pulls on his jeans haphazardly, taking out his key card. He leaves your room, leaving the deadbolt on to hold the door cracked open, and you hear some shuffling outside. You assume he’s unlocked the connecting door on his side.

He comes back to your room, unlocking the door on your side, revealing direct access to Patrick’s room. He picks you up with ease, probably from all those years of tennis, and sets you down in the middle of his bed.

It’s chillier in his room. Probably has the AC blasting, so you curl in on yourself trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again.

He makes his way over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little. Then he takes a beat before he decides to cover you with the comforter, tucking you in.

“Better?” He asks as he lays next to you, on top of the comforter because he’s still hot.

“Better,” You mumble back before you fall asleep

[sodaneko]

EXOPLANETS ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader

five times Iwaizumi almost kisses you and one time he does

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms), strangers to lovers, 5+1 things, fluff, mutual pining, diy tattoos, alcohol mention, weed mention, Oikawa mention, shotgunning, five slightly suggestive lines if you squint, a lot of easter eggs and cross-references. written as a gift for @eggyrocks ♡

word count: 4.5k

✧. ┊ ONE

It’s Kyotani’s birthday party and you’re sitting outside on the fire escape, covered in five buckets of fake blood and rolling yourself a cigarette. The wind is icy on your face and the air would smell like early snow if it wasn’t for the dubious popcorn experiments happening in the kitchen right now. You weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore after someone set one of the dried up houseplants a little bit on fire when stubbing out a cigarette on it (it was just once but the pot was fuming for two days and a half).

Kyotani always brings a mix of the strangest people together. There’s you and your other fellow students from your gender studies class, then guys from his former highschool volleyball team. There is also a bunch of men with face tattoos and a criminal record from his underground fight club (who are currently nailing the choreo to Rihanna in Just Dance), some nerds he met at a Pokémon TCG tournament (you and him once bought a hundred booster packs together while high and he thought he could recover from the financial ruin by winning one of these things) and the small group of housewives from his DND group who he meets once a month.

It’s unclear why Kyotani asked everyone to dress up for this but you’re not mad about having an occasion to drench yourself in fake blood and call it a night. In true Patrick Bateman fashion you also spent hours with excessive skin care prior to the party while you watched your best friend and roommate Atsumu zip himself up in the skimpiest maid outfit you’ve ever seen. It may be early December but that wouldn’t hold him back from showing off his thighs and a bit of his ass cheeks–maybe at heart he was just a 2000s British party girl trapped in the body of a 6’3 athlete. You shared the same cheap cherry lip gloss before heading out in the cold. 

A few drinks into the night and your head starts to hurt, which is when you retreat outside through the kitchen window to your usual spot on the fire escape. With the rolled cigarette dangling from your lips, you pat down the pockets of your suit in search of a lighter. You let out a frustrated groan when you realize you lent it to two guys dressed as Melody and Kuromi and that you’ll probably never get it back, which sucked because it had a kitty cat leaning on an eight-ball while smoking on it and you got it for free from your local conbini girl in exchange for a hand-crocheted triangle bikini top.

Someone taps your shoulder and you almost drop your cigarette if it wasn’t for the stranger’s quick reflexes, catching it for you before it would be gone with the wind. His fingers tilt your chin up a little and he puts the cigarette back between your lips. You look up and meet the gaze of Inuyasha.

Or well, a guy dressed as Inuyasha, but it might as well be your childhood crush come to life. Tan skin, sharp snaggleteeth that weren’t part of the costume but still fitting, and a pair of eyes that feel like they’re piercing straight through you. Your stomach does the little flip thing and you briefly wonder what was in the drinks you let Atsumu mix for you, but that was something to ponder on later. For now you only stare back at him, nodding when he asks if the seat next to you is free.

He sits down close to you and then reaches for something hidden in his sleeve and pulls out–your lighter. 

“Sorry about my friends. They have a knack for never returning things,” he huffs and you snatch the lighter from him, your face cracking into a smile. 

“Very noble of you,” you say, then hold up the light for him when he reaches for the cigarette behind his ear and puts it between his lips as well. His hand comes to cup yours to shield the flame from the wind and for a second your faces are close, so close, before you lean back again, taking a deep inhale of your cig. 

“Cool costume. You watch a lot of movies? Me too,” he says and rests his chin on one palm, looking at you. There’s something about his gaze that makes you feel drawn to him and you briefly wonder what he’d look like without the cheap white wig and also if he’d keep the costume on if you were to hook up with him and ask him nicely about it. 

“Is that so? Name every movie then,” you retort and it makes him laugh. Fuck. He has a really nice laugh.

You lean over and brush a few strands of the plastic hair behind his ears because the combination of the wind and the lit cigarette seems like a potential fire hazard (you learned a lot about fire hazards this year) and you’d kinda hate to see him combust too soon. 

What you don’t expect is him leaning in, almost nuzzling his face into your palm when you do, and looking back at you with a flicker that can only be described as drunk and lovesick. It makes your heart stumble in your ribcage a little. 

“Or you can just tell me your name. Unless you want me to save your contact as ‘Inuyasha’ in my phone. I can do that too,” you add when you pull your hand away, as if you’ve burned yourself by getting a bit too close to the sun. You put your cigarette between your lips and pull out your phone, tapping the screen a few times before glancing up at him again.

“It’s Iwaizumi. Hajime Iwaizumi.”

You think a lot about kissing Hajime Iwaizumi for the rest of the night.

✧. ┊ TWO

Osamu and Suna share the apartment directly below yours and when they text you that they made weed brownies, you didn’t really think about just how many of them they made. Together with Atsumu you shuffle downstairs, not expecting a bunch of other people to be there. Maybe then you would’ve worn something that wasn’t Atsumu’s old highschool club shirt and a pair of velour track pants you bedazzled yourself so it would read “soup” across your butt, but here you are. 

“Is this some kind of side business now?”, you ask Suna when you pull him aside. He has the biggest, shit-eating grin known to man plastered across his face and shakes his head. 

“A bunch of guys from his culinary school said they didn’t know how to bake weed brownies and Osamu offered to teach them, and somehow it turned into a ‘bring your own weed, get a tray of brownies’ party,” he replies and leans a little closer to you, which you know means he has a piece of juicy gossip to share. “One guy here totally got scammed, too. Spent ¥24,000 on some, can you believe?”

You almost choke on the piece of brownie in your hand. Osamu pressed it faithfully into your palm the moment you entered the kitchen, knowing he could trust you with it. Both of you had a very loose definition of trust–to Osamu it meant believing you won’t be dumb enough to eat more than one piece of the brownies, to you it meant you won’t change the contact names in his phones to soup ingredients again, no matter how high, and you both respected that.

“What, was it gold-dusted or something?” You cough and laugh, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes while Suna pats your back with empathy. “What a guy. Introduce us, I need to add him to my dream blunt rotation.”

Your eyes follow the direction Suna is nodding at, somewhere in the living room, and you meet the gaze of Iwaizumi Hajime slash Inuyasha from the fire escape. You start laughing again and head over to him, the sulk written all over his face.

“Not a word. I know, I know,” he groans when he makes space for you next to him on the couch. You squeeze in beside him and hug your knees to your chest, then catch the pillow he’s throwing at you when you can’t stop laughing the second you look at him.

“It’s okay. Actually, it’s kinda cute.” “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” “So what if I do?”

Iwaizumi huffs again and his arm just happens to be behind you on the couch, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder. Appreciate it, he grumbles, and eventually his face softens when you start telling him some anecdotes of your high life that definitely make the ¥24,000 weed purchase seem a little less dramatic. 

It’s loud in the apartment, with music blasting and people chattering, but you barely register any of it; too absorbed by his eyes that dart to your lips every now and then, and his tongue poking out from between his lips when he does, and the rattling desire in your chest that he could kiss you right here, right now. 

His fingers grab your chin and tilt your face up again, just like they did last time on the fire escape, except now he’s brushing over the corners of your mouth, collecting a few crumbs that were still there. He brings them to his lips, licking them off in one clean swipe of his tongue, and you’re pretty sure you’d let him devour you.

✧. ┊ THREE

Mattsun–the Kuromi from Kyotani’s party–and his friends from the forensics science department are hosting an Addams Family themed christmas party on their floor of the dorm and this time you don’t make the mistake of giving your lighter away. Atsumu is on a noble mission to “get laid by one of the goths” and you’re on your own, but not for long. 

“Oh, it’s you! Almost didn’t recognize you without all the fake blood,” Makki–the Melody from Kyotani’s party–shouts across the room when he spots you in the crowd and squeezes past all the people to clink his drink against yours. “You left quite the impression.”

“That so?”, you ask with a raised eyebrow and Makki gives you a boyish grin. You already have a feeling where this conversation is heading.

“Hajime won’t shut up about you. Like, ever,” he says and links his arm with yours, dragging you to the other end of the hallway. “He’s here too, by the way. Last time I saw him he was winning some kind of arm wrestling contest, but if you ask me people just wanted to ogle at his biceps. Can you blame them?” 

Speaking of the devil, you find Iwaizumi stumbling out of the bathroom, stilling when he sees you. His hoodie is tied around his waist and he’s wearing some baggy jeans and a tight, sleeveless compression shirt that does show off his arms nicely. Very nicely. So nicely you forget what to say for a brief second. 

Makki shoves you into Iwaizumi’s arms before heading off somewhere else, probably asking Mattsun to push him against the nearest wall, and you’re alone with the boy again. He caught you by your shoulders, his hands now resting on top of them while he looks you up and down. You wonder if he’ll do the chin thing again, and maybe if third time’s a charm and he’s gonna kiss you tonight for real. 

Instead he asks, “do you want to check out the tattoo station they set up in the other room?” and because your impulse control has vanished the moment you entered his orbit, you agree without a second thought. Maybe not even a first thought. Ten minutes later you’re wearing a pair of black latex gloves and hover over Iwaizumi who is lying shirtless on his back in front of you.

“Kinda sad you don’t want a tramp stamp. It’d look good on you,” you sigh with feigned annoyance while rubbing an alcohol soaked pad over his hip bones to disinfect that part, trying hard to keep your eyes pinned on there, but it’s kind of an impossible thing to ask of you. It would be a shame if you didn’t appreciate the canvas in front of you.

“Maybe next time,” Iwaizumi exclaims with the confidence of a man who simply doesn’t do the whole ordeal of regretting. It’s admirable, really. “And I let you pick the design of this one, didn’t I?”

That he did. You drew a wonky oval shape on the stencil paper which was kind of impressive as it was, given the drinks you had prior to that. Iwaizumi took the pencil from you and added a similar one, overlapping with yours. 

“That’s two eggs,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side and trying hard to focus–which again, was a hard task at hand, given that Iwaizumi leaned over your shoulder shirtless. He smelled nice. You noticed that the first time you met already. Something between fresh laundry, a spritzer of YSL Y on the side of his nape and a hint of sweat, but not unpleasant. It made you want to dig your teeth into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

“It’s a heart, dumbass,” Iwaizumi huffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, second to how much both of you were thinking about kissing the other. 

✧. ┊ FOUR

When Kenma invited you over to his place for the Bouncing Ball winter party, you were promised free unlimited food and a goodie bag, but all you got was ancient rage and a badly rolled cigarette passed back and forth between Iwaizumi and you.

“I will fucking kill Oikawa with my bare hands,” you mutter under your breath and squeeze the can of lychee soda (branded with the Bouncing Ball logo) that you’re holding a little tighter. 

“Believe me, I’ve tried many times in the past but this bastard always comes back. Like some demon lord or something.” Iwaizumi takes an angry drag of the cigarette before holding it between your lips again. His fingers brush lightly against your skin when he does and it’s the only thing that calms you down a little. 

“Like. The blue shell right before the finish line felt so personal, right?”

Kenma had sent both of you into timeout outside when you almost flung the unstrapped Wii remote towards the flatscreen and Iwaizumi might or might have not punched a hole into the shoji door after Oikawa won the third round of Mario Kart in a row and was being awfully smug about it.

You’re sitting on the backstairs together, huddled close to each other from the cold and the unspoken desire to kiss the other one stupid. With every minute you spend like this your anger vaporizes little by little, until all you can feel is the body heat radiating off Iwaizumi’s body and how calloused his hand is when he takes yours into his.

He’s wearing the hat you crocheted for him, an apology for the crooked hand poked tattoo you gave him a few days prior to today which now adorned his hip bone. At least it wasn’t infected which was a tiny miracle given the circumstances. His face lit up when you handed the hat to him, wrapped in some tin foil because neither you nor Atsumu own gift paper and that’s the most festive you could do with the utensils you had at hand. At least you threw in a little bit of confetti which was now stuck in his dark hair.

You pick some of it off his strands and Iwaizumi leans a little closer. It reminds you a lot of a big cat asking for head scratches. 

“‘s nice, with you,” he mumbles without looking at you and gives your hand a small squeeze. His thumb rubs over your knuckles with unexpected gentleness and your head sinks against his shoulder.

“Really nice,” you agree quietly, allowing yourself to close your eyes. 

The moment could have been perfect. Just the two of you, the stubbed out cigarette at your feet and the sweet taste of artificial lychee on your lips, the slowly falling snow. If only it wasn’t for the backdoor being flung open again, carrying the chatter and the music from inside towards you and a too familiar voice that will surely haunt your nightmares chirping “yahoo~”, making Iwaizumi next to you groan in agony. 

You spend the rest of the night losing another ten rounds of Mario Kart and Oikawa manifests as your sleep paralysis demon from now on, but at least you got to hold Iwaizumi’s hand under the table a little longer.

✧. ┊ FIVE

Hinata is back home from his semester abroad in Brazil. He texted the groupchat a photo of him (wow, he got really tan and buff, you think) and the three giant boxes of oranges that he brought with him and invited everyone over for an impromptu reunion party at his place. 

It’s not as excessive as other parties of your friends, more of a get together that lasts an entire weekend with everyone dropping by and going as they please, as long as they take a few oranges with them. 

You quite literally ran into Iwaizumi on your way there, your hands full with a bunch of books you borrowed from the library prior to that and him almost crashing into you when he skated around the corner on his longboard. He wore the hat you crocheted him again (with less confetti this time) and offered you his scarf and a ride. You almost wish Hinata would live at the other end of the world just so you’d have an excuse to sit cross-legged on his board in front of him while he pushes it slowly for a little longer. 

Maybe he’ll give you a ride home if you ask him nicely. Maybe the right words would fall out of your mouth this time. Maybe he’ll kiss you on the threshold, with his fingers tracing your jaw and your lips parting for him so willingly.

At Hinata’s place you find your way underneath the kotatsu with Iwaizumi by your side. The air smells like hot punch and christmas cookies and you listen for hours to Hinata talking about the things he experienced while abroad. You swipe through photos on his tablet while around you people come and go, and the entire time Iwaizumi sits so close to you that your knees keep touching underneath the table. Occasionally his hand brushes over the small of your back or pulls you a little closer towards him when someone else squeezes beside you, his touch lingering but never overbearing. 

It’s getting late and you should probably go home soon, considering the last looming deadline you still had to tackle before your winter break, but it’s not easy to peel yourself away from Iwaizumi. Not when he draped his jacket over your shoulders and his fingers brushed the nape of your neck, and especially not when he starts peeling oranges for you and starts pushing the slices directly between your lips when you’re too lazy to lift your head. 

You watch him quietly as he does, his fingers that are usually a little bruised and roughed up now impossibly gentle as he digs through the citrus skin, peeling away layer after layer. It’s beautiful, you think. He’s beautiful. You wonder if he could do the same to you, tearing through every bit of resistance you put up to protect your heart, or maybe if it was already bare in front of him the entire time, ready for him to sink his teeth into your flesh.

You hope he’ll peel a thousand more oranges for you in this lifetime.

✧. ┊ ONE, AGAIN

It’s winter solstice and Atsumu and you decide to host one last party at your home before the year ends. Together you go out to buy liquor and one mistletoe (for the festive spark of it all) but the lady from the flower store insists you take all of them for free since they’re closing soon and she would throw them out anyway. So now there’s around fifty mistletoes hanging from every ceiling of your apartment and the entire hallway of your floor, and you briefly wonder just how many mistletoes it would take for Iwaizumi to kiss you tonight.

Osamu begrudgingly agrees to prepare some food since you’d end up raiding their fridge around 2AM anyway if he doesn’t, meanwhile Suna shows you some paparazzi-esque photos on his phone that he took of Iwaizumi and you over the span of this month. For once you’re grateful that he snaps a photo of everything and everyone, because swiping through these makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

There’s one with both of you smoking on the fire escape, leaning in close to catch the flame of the lighter. You with your legs thrown over his lap on their couch while waiting for the weed brownies, his arm resting behind you on the couch. The moment when Iwaizumi takes his tight compression shirt off in front of you (it’s slightly blurry and Suna blames it on the goths and their shitty lighting). Iwaizumi and you pinning Oikawa to the floor and a Wii controller on the verge of becoming a murder weapon. You napping with your head on top of your folded arms, a plate with some orange peel in front of you, Iwaizumi’s hand in the back of your neck while looking down at you fondly. 

To be adored by Iwaizumi Hajime feels tender and mellow. There’s something magical about it; never loud or overwhelming, and yet never leaving room for doubt how he does love you with his entire being. It comes to him as natural as breathing. A love as toasty warm like a black cat basking in the sun, storing sunshine in every fibre of your soul. 

When you open the door for him later that night, he hugs you longer than usual, his arms caging you in his embrace. He murmurs something about all these mistletoes against the shell of your ear and you laugh.

“I think it’s a dumb tradition, but they’re quite beautiful, aren't they?”, you ask and Iwaizumi pulls back slightly to look at you, his hand cupping one side of your face now. 

“More than just beautiful,” he mumbles, not talking about the mistletoes.

You learn that night that Iwaizumi doesn’t dance (other than Oikawa and Atsumu who are currently destroying the Dance Dance Revolution dance pads in the living room), but he’ll happily spend hours watching you do your DJ thing. Anything as long as he can be in your proximity. He’s leaning back in the chair in the corner behind your pult, a cold Tiger beer in one hand, his chin resting on the other and his gaze never leaving you. It’s like he’s your personal bouncer for the night. You quite like that. It’s an oddly protective gesture but it makes you feel warm and giddy. 

“Someone just asked me if they can snort protein powder off my biceps,” he tells you when you return from the bathroom back to his side. He holds up a cigarette he rolled for you meanwhile. You lean down and let him put it between your lips before he reaches for your lighter stored in his pocket. 

“And did you let them?”, you ask, your face illuminated for the flick of a second when he lights up the cigarette for you. You’re standing between his spread legs and Iwaizumi reaches for your hips, making you stumble a little closer to where he was sitting. His chest is heaving now, his pupils dilating when he lets his eyes wander over you. You’ve seen this expression before, you think. It’s been the same from when you touched him for the first time, back then on the fire escape.

“Told them I was already taken,” he murmurs, almost not audible, and even in the dim light you can see the tip of his ears dusted in a dark pink color. His eyes flick up to yours and his expression is something between pleading and demanding. Oh. 

How brazen. 

He lets out a labored breath when you push him back in his chair, making room for you to straddle his hips. His hands find your thighs, fingers digging into your supple flesh and it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on letting you go for the rest of the night. Or, forever maybe.

You take a long drag of your cigarette and this time it’s you cupping his chin, tilting it up and hovering above him. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to be told what to do, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly before he parts his lips and lets you blow a mouthful of smoke into his lungs. It’s greedy, how he swallows it so willingly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Hungry. Begging. Adoring. 

He’s in love with you like no one else ever was. 

“I need to kiss you or else I’m going insane.” 

His voice is hoarse, strained. As if he is clinging to the last bit of his resistance and sanity. In one swift movement he snatches the cigarette from your lips with one hand and carelessly drowns it in his half-empty beer bottle, his other hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him again.

“Please,” he huffs and it sounds like he’s pierced with ten swords, in agony over not feeling your lips against his. “Pretty please.” 

Your arms wrap around him and you kiss him. During the longest night of the year it’s like the sun is rising just for you. You don’t think, just let the feeling wash over you as your body melts against his. Iwaizumi lets out a quiet growl and kisses you back, gently at first, until your tongue slides against his and his calloused hands against your bare skin start trembling slightly. He’s using every ounce of self-restraint so he wouldn’t devour you on the spot. He knows you’d let him and that is a problem. 

“Took you long enough,” you mumble against his lips once you pull apart to breathe, which could have been an hour later or a lifetime. Time becomes a blur under the soft caress of Iwaizumi. He mirrors your smug smile, stealing another kiss from your lips.

“I’ll make up for it,” he rasps, closing his eyes when you rest your forehead against his. His hands on your waist pull you impossibly closer again, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin there. He lets out a quiet hum, a sound very close to purring. “Gonna kiss you stupid till you forget your own name and can only remember mine.”

“Silly,” you huff back and kiss him again. “Is this a threat or a promise?”

“Both. With you, it’s both.”

a/n: hi eggy ily!! your wishlist was spectacular and i had a lot of fun writing this for you (at some point it got a little out of hand i'll admit lmao). hope you enjoyed your gift and that the rest of your 2024 will be warm and tender. trying not to get sappy here, just know you always leave such a mark with anything you write, it's something i deeply admire. happy holidays & all the love for you <3

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Best friend

Tw: female reader, emotional manipulation, jealousy, toxicity, crude language, implied parental abuse/neglect, implied drugs, non - consensual touching, i love manipulative men too much for my own good :((

Summary: Toxic, codependent friendship turns sour. But that's really no surprise.

You love Lauren's flat. You know he's renting it for cheap because his dad is friends with the landlord - and he doesn't give a fuck about the place. You know by the wrappers on the ground and the cigarettes stacked burnt inside the drawers, the stench of weed stuck to the ceiling for what feels like forever - and it's no surprise. Lauren doesn't care about all the good things in his life. And you know by the broken mirror pieces never to be swept away and the pills hidden behind the sink.

Still, you like his flat. The kitchen alone is bigger than your mom's entire house. The fridge is never empty - full from top to bottom, to the very brim, bursting with everything from your favourite chocolate candy to cheap vodka, from top shelf whiskey to pickled onions and fancy imported foreign items you have never seen before with your own two eyes. All colorful, all set in alphabetical order - he's a neat freak like that, and it's no surprise. The central heating never stops, and it's never cold. It's a land of dreams, and some days you wish you could stay forever.

***

"Haha, aw." You whisper to yourself, shoulders moving slowly up and down in sync. You try to stop the slight blush from reaching your face, but it's inevitable, truly. You barely notice when your best friend sneaks behind you, quiet as a snake ready to bite into your open vein.

"You look awfully happy." He observes with certain distaste, almost grimacing - you don't have to look up from your phone, you know him too well, he must be grimacing, and clicking his tongue. "Did the old hag kick the bucket or somethin'?" His lips twist in a cruel little smile as he wraps his arms around your frame - which never ceases to make you feel as if you have a tiny mischievous demon on your shoulder. "No, wait, don't tell me you're getting fired from the burger place. That's even better!" His eyes glow with childish joy as he teases you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"N-no, it's nothing like that. It's really stupid..." You try to look anywhere but at him, fiddling with your phone nervously. "Just go back to reading your book and leave me alone, jerk." You attempt to joke back, but your anxiety gives you away. It's foolish to lie to him to begin with - he's known you for years. He's known you since your father died, since your mother stopped caring whether you're alive or not. He's known you since you broke down in his arms for the first time. He's known you in nothing but smeared mascara and torn bottomless pockets, though empty wallets; he's known you, body and soul (and lips too, all those years ago). So of course he knows that you're lying.

"What is it?" He humms playfully leaning over your shoulder, chin resting on top of your breast. You feel the sweat sticking to his neck (was he in a fight again?), the heavy colognue coming off his black shirt as he tries to read the words on your screen. You quickly turn off your phone, and Lauren pouts, pretending to be upset. "What's so damn important that you can't even tell your best friend?" His voice is light and airy, privy, overwhelmingly sweet and sticky like burnt caramel.

You open your mouth, but no speech comes out. You feel embarrassed. You don't even know where to start. Then the man raises an eyebrow expectantly, eyes prompting Well?, growls in irritation quickly after, and reaches for a new thin cigarette, all in the same breath. He's always been like this - quick to set aflame. Impossible to predict. Hard to resist. Soft, sometimes. In your arms, mostly.

"Fine." He snaps at last, brows furrowed like an angered father as he stands up to get his keys from the table, heading towards the door. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I'm the only person in this ugly, shitty world who, like, dunno, gives a fuck about yo-"

"You'll just mock me!" You squeak out, crossing your arms together - regretting even laughing in the first place. Then, even more quietly. "If I tell you."

Lauren stills completely, slowly turning back towards you. Your heartbeat speeds up even more, if possible.

"What the fuck happened?" He remains serious, although slightly less aggravated now. "You know I hate this cryptic bullshit you do. Just speak up, you're not a child anymore." He gets closer to you, pointing at your chest. "M not your mommy, ain't gonna hit ya if you say the wrong thing."

You take a deep breath, eyes focused on the cigar hanging off his mouth - together with the sport hoodie and the cheap black beanie he looks like a small fish delinquent, and you have to stop yourself from laughing. But then you remember why you even fought in the first place, and you feel flustered all over again.

"I met someone." You blurt out in a rush to get it over with, averting your eyes to the TV still playing somewhere in the background. The sound has been turned to low - he says the commercials make him want to scratch his head from the inside.

"Huh?" His cigarette falls off. Ash all over the dirty wooden tiles.

"I met someon-

"Yes, I heard you the first time." Lauren pronounces slowly, lips stretching into his oh - so characteristic smile again. "I just couldn't believe it." He stomps over the half lit cigar, burning a hole into the floor. It doesn't look out of order with all the filth. "Who would have known. Heh." He stares at you for entirely too long - until you squirm with discomfort. "Who's the lucky guy?"

You want to ask him why it's so unbelievable for you to meet someone - but it's hard to find the words to. At the same time you know he's just joking, he'd never do anything to hurt you. He's just... rough around the edges.

"You don't know him." Warm heat travels through your body as you think about your secret admirer. "We met online."

"Of course you did." Your friend scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. Then he claps sardonically, lighting up another cigarette. He must have hundreds, if not thousands lying around. "Well, congratulations, princess. You may finally get pounded like a real bitch in heat. Isn't that nice?" The more you look at him, the more crooked his smirk seems to get.

"You're fucking disgusting." You hiss, standing up - ready to collect your things and leave.

You hate when he gets like this.

"Oh, not so fast. We're still talking, baby. Tell me everything." Lauren grabs your elbow, pulling you in with ease, and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd be terrified by how strong he is despite his seemingly slim build. "Does he tell you that you're beautiful? That you're just the most precious thing in the entire world?" His voice lowers down to a whisper in your ear. "Or is he even less creative with his lies?"

You pull away, eyes widening with disbelief.

"He's not like this! How can you even say all th-" You blurt out incoherently, but he stops you in the tracks with a single sharp glare. "He's not like that?" The man snorts in a rather nasty way, pulling you back in while you're too shocked to resist. "You're even dumber that I thought." His eyes narrow to two slits bleeding bile. "Did he fuck you already? Is that why you're acting so naive? You get some mediocre dick and now you're all star - eyed." He laughs with unhinged madness, orbs mudded with pure craze.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes. You both stare at it for what feels like eternity - but he's faster, always. Ever since you were children. And as you're jumping away, fighting with teeth and nail to get your phone back, he's reading away at your most intimate thoughts and feelings.

"I feel like I've known you for ages." He reads out loud, trying to imitate the voice of the sender. "You must be my other half. I'd love to hold you and cherish you forever." The mocking nasal tone sinks with each word, and once he reaches "forever", it's almost silent. His hands are shaking, eyes blurry. The ink drowns the screen as if trying to get under his own fingernails.

And when he smashes the phone in the ground, it's really no surprise.

"Lauren!" You gasp, falling down to collect the pieces, grabbing at the broken plastic with feral grip. But there's just too many of them, and not enough glue in the whole wide world.

"I should have known you were up to no good in that miserable house. That crack-whore mother of yours is putting these... ideas in your head." He chuckles coldly, staring at you from aboving with unreadable expression - and from so low on the ground he looks like the sun. "She made you believe someone could actually love... you."

He suddenly squats down to your level.

"News-fucking-flash, sweetheart." His fist wraps around your hair, pulling at will. It burns your scalp, but you can't look away, hypnotized by the motion of his lips, the silky cruelty of his voice teasing your ears. "Nobody loves you. Nobody will ever love you - not your poor dead bum of a father, not that bitch you call mother and certainly not this fool you think you love. How could they love you? You're a fucking mess!"

He's laughing at the tears slowly pouring down your cheeks. You're so beautiful when you cry.

"How could they love you?" He repeats softly, stroking your cold wet cheek with two slender fingers - the same fingers that always dry your tears. Then his lips touch your eyelids, slowly, torturously - the same lips that always bring you to tears. "They wouldn't know what to do with you. Such a fragile girl." His nose rubs against your collarbone and suddenly you're drowning in your sadness like a sailor lost at sea. "Such a fragile, broken little girl."

And yet you still love Lauren's apartment, it's never cold, and it's always silent. So silent you can hear your own heartbeat - and so lonely you can taste your tears on his lips.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[tiredmamaissy]

Wandering Hands — Ralak’s POV

Ralak x Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, explicit language, let’s not spoil it too much this is only a drabble lol, this is my first time writing a males pov so bear with me 🙈

Hope you enjoy! ❤️

She’s showing me her pussy again, subtly, but definitely.

Definitely presenting.

No. She’s not. I’m harsh with my reminder. She’s doing the washing. Hanging our pieces to dry. I look away and clench my jaw so it isn’t obvious how she’s making me feel.

What kind of man would I be if I drooled at the mere sight of her reaching down for whatever flimsy cloth is in that damn bucket? Not one of honour.

I have control. I am in control.

I drag the whetstone against my spear, it’s my third time sharpening it today. Ridiculous, I know. But if I don’t keep my hands busy, they itch to wander.

I sneak another glance, she’s on the tips of her five toes now, pinning up one of her tops. Her tail curls and brushes against her thigh and…

I look away. Again. A man of honour and respect. I huff a sigh, bite my tongue a little. My rut is nowhere near yet she makes it feel like it’s on the cusp of showing his wicked face.

Like I might lose control and allow him to do whatever he wants with her little, fragile body. My cock bobs at the thought. He agrees with my merciless shadow. The man that consumes me every few moons.

My nostrils flare as I fight the burn of me reigning myself in and I drag the whetstone against my blade a final time. Abandoning my spear in the sand, I stalk over to the fishing net.

My hands itch. But I don’t allow them to wander.

Instead, they grip the twine and I drag my feet towards the shore and in the water. I toss the net to catch tonight’s dinner.

That’s what a man of honour does, provide for what is his. The easy task is over before it starts, and I catch enough for tomorrow’s dinner. Good, more time to spend with my mate.

My chest grows with pride, but I quickly shove it down and throw the net over my shoulder with the writhing fish inside. I give a quiet, short thanks to Ewya as I saunter back to shore to cull her sacrifice with my knife.

I peek over at my tanhi as the sudden need to ensure her safety overwhelms me. Relief floods me when I see that she’s sitting on the overturned bucket braiding her hair. Good. That’s what she should be doing, relaxing.

I look down, making quick time in preparing our dinner. The itch is growing quite bothersome. My eyes dart over against my volition, she’s still fiddling with her hair. Good. She’s safe. I force myself to calm down, and focus on the task. Focus.

The fish are clean and boneless. I don’t need her to worry about bones, she’s still not used to them like we reef people are. I toss them in a basket and make my way to the pit. I’m considerably closer to her now and her sharp, pungent scent that wafts over is evidence of that.

Her heat is coming.

Focus. I bite my tongue again, and turn my attention to the charred coal. I need to light this fire. That’s what I need to do.

Yet my eyes wander again, and she’s looking at me. My chest tightens, but I hold her gaze. Her eyes are so soft. I don’t know how else to describe it. I didn’t know eyes could be soft. She’s so delicate, like if I look at her the wrong way she’d break. So I don’t. I don’t let anything come through my face of stone.

She lets her lips curve into a wobbly smile, and my heart leaps but my mouth tightens. She stands and hesitates, likely to make her way over here or not. My instinct says she will. She does.

Little by little, she toddles down the shore towards me. I swallow. Her scent grows stronger, it's thick and practically trailing behind her. Thank Eywa my marui is secluded.

I stiffen, both my body and what’s in my tewng.

“Mate.” I speak the first word as she settles herself on my thigh.

Eywa, give me the strength.

“Ralak.” She whispers, shuffling until she makes herself comfortable in front of me. Forget about lighting this pit. “What are you up to?”

I can’t even remember. Her pussy is hot against my thigh, and notably swollen. My cock throbs. This woman is trouble. I send another silent prayer to Eywa.

“Dinner. Hungry?” I keep it short, I have to.

She nods and bats her thick lashes at me, staring into my soul with her golden eyes. My heart stammers. My hands itch to wander.

Start the fire.

But she’s on my thigh, blocking my view—my path. How could I ever move her out the way?

Lift her up. She weighs nothing.

She can sit here as long as she pleases, it’s her thigh to do what she wants with. Whatever she wants with. I feel my hands mindlessly rest on her hips.

Start the damn fire.

Great, now I am officially a mad man, having arguments with myself in my head.

“Mm.” I let out a nonchalant grunt and allow one corner of my mouth to twitch into something of a smile. “Then I must start this fire. Need you fed.”

She smiles up at me, her canines beaming white. I glance down to see my fingertips sink into her soft, supple skin. I’m clearly not letting her go anywhere.

Her breath is heavy, and so is her chest. Great mother, her breasts look as if they ache, and her nipples are like smooth pebbles in her top. My cock jumps.

She’s almost in heat.

I know. I should have caught more fish.

“Are you telling me to get off, karyu?” She giggles, innocently dragging her plump pussy along my thigh, pretending to get up.

My hands clamp down before I even give them the command, and I immediately loosen my grip when I’m back in control. She knows what that name does to me.

“Never.” I growl, taking an intentional breath to keep myself together.

“Good.” She breathes, happily settling herself back down on top of me, shoving her pussy a little closer to my groin.

I groan a little and feel myself tense even more. At this rate, my cock is going to tear through my tewng and skewer her like a spear.

I feel her lips drag across my jaw and she peppers a few kisses on my chin. She’s teasing me and she knows it.

“What are you up to, mate?” I ask her the question she asked me, even though we both know the answer.

“Nothing.” She says in her sweet, innocent voice as she lays her head against my chest. “Just relaxing, enjoying the moment.”

Ilushit.

“That so, tanhi?” I mutter into her newly-braided, lush hair. It smells as sweet as her scent.

Heat.

My instincts ride me. Alerting me it’s near yet again. It’s almost on her now. Maybe it’ll be sooner than I thought. Tonight, perhaps.

I really should have caught more fish.

The urge to fatten her up strikes me. I need to get her fed and ready for the next few days.

“You need food, tiyawn.” I force myself to unwrench my fingers from her hips.

“A little later.” She mumbles into my chest, nuzzling her face into me. She’s slurring her words a little.

We don’t have ‘later’.

“No, now.” I affirm, leaning back to look at her face. She whines like a child and snuggles further into me, inhaling deeply. She’s scenting me.

There is definitely no ‘later’.

“Come now, tanhi. You need to eat.” I’m stern with my tone, and I’m certain she’s pouting against my chest now. I want to give her anything she desires. “I will be quick.”

She’s still not convinced, and begins wiggling on my thigh. Great mother, please. She’s rubbing against me with no rhythm, inexperienced and innocent. My tewng is too damn tight.

Her whine fades into a whimper and my ears pin back.

I can’t take it, she knows how to get what she wants. I’m certain if I allow it she’d take my cock right here, by the pit. She’s in no sound mind now, her scent is almost suffocating.

I let out a sigh of defeat and shift to the side, getting the fire started single handedly. It sparks to life with a whoosh. I haphazardly shove the fish on a skewer and set it over the flame.

Her movements grow even needier, and her thin fingers wrap around my chest piece for purchase. Good. She can use me how she pleases.

My thigh is getting warm and slippery, her slick is most certainly soaking through her tewng.

Fuck.

I will myself not to look. If I do, I might lose it and fuck her here. I won’t. I flip the fish and let the other side cook until it’s white inside. I continue to support her with my other hand and let my fingers clutch her waist as she squirms against me. She’s clearly in need.

And what kind of a man would I be if I stopped her?

“Get it out, then.” I encourage her gruffly, widening my stance to give her the space to hump at my thigh.

She hides her face in my chest as her hips work overtime, rutting and thrusting into me. Her slick dribbles down the sides of my thigh and my cock is about to burst. I swear, I’m going to explode.

“That’s it.” I mutter under my breath, desperately trying not to cum in my tewng. I distract myself and cook the second half of the fish, but almost burn them because of her sweet, sweet sounds.

“L-Lak…” She moans my name through a tremble as her clit pulses on my thigh. She’s about to cum and make a delicious, little mess on me. I can’t wait. My heart is about to fly out of my chest.

“Say it, numeyu.” I can barely breathe, much less find the words. I yank the semi-charred skewer off the flame and focus solely on her.

“I—” She peeks up from my chest, glossy eyed and tensed brows.

Both my hands grip her with intent, following and encouraging her every thrust as I lock my gaze with hers. I want her to cum on me while she looks me in the eye. I want to see her face melt into pleasure when her pussy flutters on my skin.

“I’m cumming.” She whispers her admission as a tear slips down her cheek.

Oh.

My cock aches. It’s twitching and weeping in my tewng and I can’t help it when my hips buck so I can rub against something. Her brows tense some more and then relax and her lips tremble. Her sweet voice shatters and then I feel it.

Her pussy is throbbing against my thigh. She cumming on me.

“Mmph. Good girl.” I growl a little too loudly for my liking, but I need to reward her.

My hands keep her still so I can feel every second of it, and my hips stutter against her. I want to cum too, inside of her as she looks at me like that again. But I have plenty of time for that, because…

She’s in heat.

She grows weak against me, and her eyelids flutter. I bounce my thigh a bit to jolt her awake, and remind her it’s dinner time. She giggles light heartedly and smiles like a skxawng. She knows what she does to me. She’s trouble.

My trouble.

[vinnyvamppp]

Omg please right another eve smut fic 🙏🏼 She is so fine and has 0 fics. #needthat

Burnout

Note: #weneedthat and I'm so upset more people aren't writing for her (I'm aware of one other) OR RAE... I mean, hey, I don't mind writing for the baddies.

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Dry Humping, Oral Fixation, Kitchen Sex, Emotional Vulnerability, Touch Starved, WLW, Light Power Imbalance, Fluff (hero x civilian), Overstimulation, Evebeingsofine, etc. Synopsis: Through her heroisms, you and Eve fostered a friendship. Watching the world beat her down through the paper broke your poor little heart... so why not offer the girl some relief for her burnout?

Atom Eve/Samantha Eve Wilkins x Farmer!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,088

The sun had long since dipped behind the hills when you spotted her.

The soft hum of pink energy gave her away before her boots ever touched the dirt. She was hovering just above your east field—brow furrowed, arms crossed tight across her chest. Her suit—scorched at the sleeves, clung to her like a second skin, her orange hair wind-tossed and sticking to her jawline.

Another long day. You could see it all over her face.

You set the bucket of feed down beside the fencepost and dusted your hands on your jeans. “You tryin’ to sneak in and fix my irrigation again, Wilkins?” She landed with a sigh that seemed to echo across the whole valley. “I wasn’t going to fix it,” she said. “Just… help.”

You leaned against the post, arms folded over your broad chest. “That drip line’s old, but it works fine. You’ve already done more than enough.” Eve huffed out a breath, a corner of her mouth tugging up. “You’re the only person I know who turns down a personal superhero.”

“I’m not turning you down.” You nodded toward the porch. “I’m just saying you don’t have to save me on top of saving everybody else.” She hesitated. For a second, you saw the strain behind her eyes. The exhaustion she didn’t let anyone else see. But you weren’t anyone else. Not anymore.

“You been out since sunrise?” you asked gently.

Eve looked down at her boots. “There was a quake near Jakarta. Then a mudslide in Chile. A few floods in Bangladesh.” She paused. “And three fires. Big ones.” You whistled low. “Hell.”

She didn’t answer. Just kept her eyes trained on the soil, shoulders rigid. You crossed the space between you with slow, even steps and reached out—not touching her yet, just letting her feel the weight of your presence.

“You need to come inside,” you said. “Sit for a bit. You look like you're about to fall over.”

“I’m fine.”

“Eve.”

Something in your voice made her blink up at you. She saw the concern there. The steadiness. You didn’t push. You just waited. Let her come to you like you always did. After a few long seconds, she nodded, and you opened the door.

She sat at your table—elbows resting on her knees, face in her hands. You handed her a glass of cold water and a fresh towel to clean the grime from her neck. You said nothing while she drank. You didn't need to. The silence was safe here.

When she looked up, there was something raw in her eyes. Something frayed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “The second I fix one thing, another collapses. I feel like I’m plugging holes in a sinking ship. And no one else can float.”

You sat across from her, elbows on your knees to match her height, and met her gaze. “You don’t have to float alone.” Her eyes softened, lips parting just slightly. “You always say that.”

“‘Cause it’s always true.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing yours. Not quite a grip, but an anchor. Her touch was warm— tired, but needing as her disillusion faded. You didn’t pull away. Her hand curled into yours, squeezing just a little tighter. “I don’t know what this is,” she murmured, eyes flicking from your mouth back up again. “But when I’m here, I breathe easier.” Your thumb ran over the back of her hand. “Then stay.”

Her eyes glowed faintly, that soft pink shimmer flickering along her skin like a heartbeat. You felt the tingle of it ghosting up your forearm—her powers responding to her emotion, not her command. That happened more and more when she was with you. You hadn't meant to stare—but there she was, appearance haggard and eyes wide, sweat glistening at her temple as she returned your gaze. Her usual glow dimmed by exhaustion. You watched her wipe her brow with the back of her hand, fingers trembling just slightly, like even her power couldn’t mask how worn thin she was. Oh, how beautiful she was to you. In times like this, you stepped forward with a mason jar of something cold to take home. Hoping she’d accept both—hoping she'd look at you the way she did during visits, when her fingers brushed yours a little too long over the tomatoes. And she did. Her gaze lingered, caught on your mouth before snapping away. “You really don't have to keep doing this,” she murmured, not taking the drink. But her voice was low, grateful. “You don’t have to keep showing up for me.” You shrugged, eyes on hers, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the air to charge. “Maybe I want to.” And god, the way she looked at you then—like she was trying not to fall. Like she already had. And now was no different as you watched your reflection shimmer in her pupils.

She moved first.

A quiet shuffle of her chair. A slow lean forward. Her hand cupping the side of your neck, hesitant at first until you tilted your head into her palm, giving her permission. When her lips met yours, it wasn’t desperate. It was relief.

A sigh into your mouth. A whispered exhale that said finally.

And when she climbed into your lap, straddling your thighs, letting herself press flush against your chest—her muscles finally relaxing—you didn’t move to take anything more.

You just held her there. Let her melt. Let her feel what it was like to not carry the world.

It started slow, a gentle exploration, your mouths moving in sync as if they had been made for each other. Her lips were soft, yielding, and you could taste the faint sweetness of her tongue as it tentatively met yours. You groaned quietly, the faint tang reminded you of apricot as you swallowed each of her breaths. “Mmm…” she sighed into the kiss, her voice a quiet flutter against your lips. “You always taste like sunlight.” You chuckled into her mouth. “You’re just sayin’ that because I’m covered in sweat.” Her nose brushed against yours, “Exactly.” The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent—more demanding. Your hand found the small of her back; the other resting against her cheek, tilting her head just enough, giving you better access to her mouth. Her grasp mirrored yours, her fingers tangling within your hair—pulling you closer, as if she couldn't get enough of you. Slowly, you gently guided her as she began to move, her body pressing against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. The fabric of her clothes and yours created a barrier, but the heat between you was undeniable. Suffocating even. Her breaths came in soft gasps, her eyes never leaving yours as she ground against you, the motion both innocent and intensely erotic. “God,” she murmured breathlessly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. To just… not be Atom Eve for five damn minutes.” You shifted upwards gently as she began to gyrate, her pelvis pressing down against your crotch. The friction made her gasp—sharp, stifling. Your voice was low, teasing. “Five minutes? I was hoping you’d give me at least ten, sweetheart.” You could feel arousal pool between your thighs as you shifted beneath her, jaw tightening. The faint outline of her lips dragged slowly over the cloth of your crotch, the contact causing a quiet squelch to echo between you two. As the moments passed, the rocking became more urgent, her hips grinding against you with a need that was impossible to ignore. Her unique desperation was nearly erratic—hips bucking as she sought more. It was fascinating. Seeing a hero you admired and befriended—here, on your lap, singing a lustful tune to you. You could see the desire in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly—inviting you in. You leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Slouching slightly, your legs parted as your strong hands wrapped around the width of her ass. Cupping the fat, you stood from the chair—too eager to reason with yourself as you fumbled towards the kitchen counter, the stool tipping over with a crash. The kitchen filled with the sounds of your combined groans, the soft moans and gasps, the wet sounds of your fingers moving within her. You broke away from her mouth only to trail kisses down her neck—your tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She shivered, her body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Her hands gripped the counter, knuckles white, as she pushed back against you, meeting your every stroke. The world narrowed down to this moment, this place, this sensation. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the room, but neither of you noticed. She should probably be out there… saving someone. But for once, she’s being saved— distracted from her burdens. You were lost in each other, lost in the slick that glistened across your fingers as her head fell forward. Slowly, your other hand wrapped around her front. Calloused fingers began to rub tight circles around her clit as he back bowed slightly at the sensation. One finger—then two, teasing it until she leans back onto your for support. You felt awfully proud of yourself, never having used your skilled hands, usually meant for plowing fields, for such pleasures. She was seeing stars. “God,” she groaned, body shivering, “marry me already.” “You always this bossy when you’re close?” you murmured. She turned her head just enough to meet your gaze over her shoulder, lips trembling with a smile. “You like it.” earning a chuckle in response. You increased the pace, your fingers moving faster, deeper, as you felt her body tensing, her breath hitching. She was close, so close. You could feel it in the way her muscles quivered, in the way her breath hitched in her throat. You leaned down, stealing her attention for a sloppy kiss, swallowing her cries as she came undone in your arms. Her body convulsed—waves of pleasure washing over her, and you held her tight, your own body aching with need.

And then her back arched, her body shaking as her orgasm hit. You caught her before her knees could give out, pressing soft kisses to her neck as she collapsed against the counter. As the eye twitching climax subsided, you slowed your movements, gentle now, coaxing every last shiver of pleasure from her body. She was quiet for a long moment, catching her breath. Then, with a shaky laugh, she muttered, “What about… what about you?” You grinned into her skin. “Who said we’re done? How about those last five minutes?” The air was thick with the lingering heat of shared breath, flushed skin, and everything unspoken that had just passed between you. Eve lay draped over your chest, her breathing slow—steady now, her cheek pressed against your shoulder like she was trying to nuzzle into your warmth. Outside, the sky was turning a royal blue, the horizon painted in hues too gentle for the chaos she usually lived in. Here, though… There was peace.

You brushed a hand through her hair, fingers tangling softly in strands still damp with sweat. “You’re not thinking of flying off already, are you?” you murmured, voice teasing but quiet. She made a soft sound—half a laugh, half a sigh—but didn’t move.

“I should,” she said eventually, reluctant. Her fingers swiped through her phone, watching catastrophe sling across her social media. “There’s a collapsing bridge in Chicago, a drought in South Africa, and someone’s cat stuck on a roof in Oregon.” You smiled, pressing your lips to the crown of her head. “Or… there’s peach jam, that blanket you like, and a fire with your name on it. You could stay.” You paused, letting your fingers trail down her back. “Just for tonight.”

She tilted her head to look at you, a soft smile pulling at her lips. “You really trying to bribe a superhero with jam?” You shrugged. “It’s good jam. And you’re not just a superhero. Not to me.”

That gave her pause. Her gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before she leaned in, kissed you slowly, no urgency, just warmth and a promise. “I’ll come back,” she whispered, her fingers brushing your jaw. “I always will.”

And then, curled into your side as the fire crackled low and sweet behind her, Eve closed her eyes. Just for now, she stayed.

A/N: I miss my cartoon wife already :((

[moonselune]

Heeellllooo~~ can you please do one where Tav comes RUNNING to any of the bg3 folks you want because there’s a roach in there tent and they need them to kill it (bonus points if it flys)

bahahha I love this so much aha

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You sprinted across the camp, heart pounding in your chest, and skidded to a stop in front of Karlach, breathless. She was sitting by the campfire, sharpening her axe, and looked up at you with an amused smile.

“What’s got you in such a hurry, sweetheart?” she teased, tilting her head.

“There’s a… a massive insect in my tent!” you stammered, still catching your breath. “It’s huge, Karlach! Please, you’ve got to get rid of it!”

Karlach grinned, her teeth flashing in the firelight.

“Aw, does my little warrior need her big, strong girlfriend to come save her from a creepy crawly?” she teased, playfully bumping your shoulder with her own. You gave her an exasperated look, and she laughed, patting your head affectionately. “Alright, alright, I’m on it.”

With an exaggerated roll of her shoulders, Karlach stood up, making a big show of cracking her knuckles as if she were about to face off against some fearsome beast instead of a simple insect.

“You stay out here, babe,” she said, winking at you. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You watched as she strode toward your tent, feeling a mixture of relief and amusement at her confidence.

You could hear her muttering to herself as she stepped inside, “Alright, you little bugger, let’s see what we’re dealing with…”

Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through the night, and your heart jumped into your throat.

“Oh gods, it’s flying! It’s flying!” Karlach shouted from inside the tent. You barely had a moment to process her panic before you saw a flash of heat and light, and suddenly your tent was engulfed in flames.

“Karlach!” you yelled, rushing forward. The flames crackled, licking at the fabric and threatening to spread. You grabbed the nearby bucket of water and doused the tent as quickly as you could, the fire sputtering out in a smoky hiss.

Karlach emerged from the tent, her hair singed at the ends and soot smudged across her cheek, looking utterly bewildered.

“It came right at me!” she exclaimed, pointing back at the charred remains of your tent. “And I panicked! My body just reacted, I didn’t mean to set it on fire!”

You stared at her for a moment, disbelief turning into laughter. You doubled over, clutching your sides as the absurdity of the situation hit you. “You were supposed to save me from the bug, not burn the whole tent down!”

Karlach scowled playfully, crossing her arms. “Hey, that thing was bigger than I expected! It had wings! And… and it was coming right for me! What was I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be the big, strong one!” you managed between giggles. “Not start screaming the moment an insect flies at you!”

“Well, I saved you from it, didn’t I?” she retorted, trying to maintain her dignity even as her lips twitched with the urge to smile. “No more bug problem now, right?”

“Because you burned my tent down!” you shot back, still laughing.

Karlach sighed dramatically, then pulled you into her arms, her body warm against yours, still radiating the heat from her inner fire. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “How about this? I’ll build you a new tent, and I’ll even stay up all night to make sure no bugs get in. Deal?”

You couldn’t help but smile, snuggling closer to her. “Deal. But next time, I’m handling the insect.”

Karlach chuckled, holding you tighter. “Next time, I’ll just use my bare hands.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You ran across the camp, heart pounding, your footsteps crunching over the dirt and fallen leaves. Your destination was clear: Minthara, your lover, who sat near the campfire sharpening her blade with slow, deliberate strokes. She barely looked up as you skidded to a stop in front of her, breathless and wide-eyed.

"Minthara," you gasped, trying to catch your breath. "There’s a massive insect in my tent."

The drow's eyes finally lifted from her sword, and she regarded you with a raised brow, a smirk already playing on her lips.

"A massive insect?" she repeated mockingly. "Truly, you are a weakling if a mere bug sends you running to me for help."

You frowned at her teasing tone, but you knew it came with a certain affection — as much affection as Minthara could express, anyway.

"It's not just any bug," you muttered defensively. "It's huge. I’m not going back in there until it’s gone."

Minthara stood up, stretching slightly, her lithe form moving with predatory grace as she adjusted her armor. She rolled her shoulders as if preparing for battle, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Do I have to solve every one of your problems, or are you simply that incapable?" she asked, her voice full of playful disdain. "Very well, I shall slay your insect, my terrified little weakling."

You shot her a glare, but you let her stride off toward the tent. She disappeared inside, and for a few moments, all was quiet.

Suddenly, a sharp, startled yelp echoed from the tent, followed by the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard.

"Gah! Filthy creature!" you heard her curse, followed by a scuffling noise inside.

Then, the bug must have taken flight, because Minthara came bursting out of the tent, trying to maintain her usual composed demeanor but clearly rattled. She swiped at the air behind her as if trying to shake off whatever had spooked her.

You couldn't help it; you burst into laughter, doubling over as Minthara shot you a withering glare, her face flushed with both anger and embarrassment.

"Oh, look who's the weakling now!" you teased between breaths. "Big, bad Minthara, scared of a bug!"

"I am not scared!" she snapped, though her wide eyes betrayed her. "It simply caught me by surprise. I would have had it dealt with in moments, but—"

Before she could finish, the massive insect came buzzing out of the tent, its wings a loud, ominous hum as it flew directly toward the two of you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you yelped and ducked, watching as it darted past your head. Minthara swore under her breath, instinctively raising her sword as if to strike it from the sky, but it was moving too fast.

"It’s coming back!" you shouted, pointing as the insect circled around.

Minthara gritted her teeth, glancing between you and the incoming bug.

"Get behind me!" she ordered, though there was a new edge to her voice, betraying her nerves.

You couldn’t resist one more quip. "You’re not going to run again, are you?" you teased, darting behind her as the insect buzzed closer.

Minthara shot you a venomous look. "Mock me again, and you’ll be sleeping outside with the insects." But there was a slight twitch to her lips, as if she wasn’t entirely unaffected by your teasing.

With one swift motion, Minthara swung her sword, narrowly missing the bug as it veered off, flying into the night. You both stood there for a moment, breathless from the absurdity of it all.

"Next time," Minthara growled, "you handle the damn bug."

You chuckled, stepping beside her. "I’ll remember that." You paused, glancing at the now-empty tent. "So, want to go back in?"

Minthara sighed, sheathing her sword. "Not a chance."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

You ran through the camp, your heart racing, the image of the enormous insect still fresh in your mind. You burst into Lae'zel's tent, barely able to contain your panic.

"Lae'zel!" you gasped, trying to catch your breath. "There's a massive insect in my tent, please, I need your help!"

Lae'zel was sharpening her blade, her eyes narrowed as she looked up at you.

"A bug?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her expression quickly shifting to one of disdain. "Pathetic. Are you such a weakling that you cannot deal with a mere insect?"

You huffed, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you didn’t back down. "You haven’t seen it! It’s huge!"

Lae'zel snorted, standing and grabbing her sword, her eyes rolling as she muttered something in Gith.

"Very well," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I shall save you from this mighty beast. What an honor for a warrior of Vlaakith to slay such a fearsome creature."

You trailed behind her as she made her way to your tent, muttering under her breath about how soft you were, how strange your fears were.

"Insects, of all things," she scoffed. "You would never survive on the Astral Plane if you cannot even handle a bug."

But the moment she stepped inside your tent, her confidence faltered. A loud yelp escaped her as she spotted the insect.

“Mother Gith!” she spat, her voice suddenly laced with tension. "What is that thing?!"

You stayed just outside, barely able to stifle your laughter as you heard the unmistakable sound of her sword being drawn. "Weakling!" she had called you, and now here she was, facing the same fear.

“I will slay this abomination!” Lae’zel bellowed, and the tent shook as you heard her lunging at the creature. There was a metallic hiss as she swung her sword, and the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. The tent’s fabric rustled violently as Lae'zel slashed at the insect again and again.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing filled the air. The insect had taken flight.

"Lae'zel! Don’t—" you began to warn, but it was too late. There was another wild swing of her sword, and a sickening rip. The whole side of the tent collapsed in on itself as Lae'zel hacked at it with her blade. More fabric tore, poles snapped, and you watched in shock as the structure of your tent crumbled to the ground.

Finally, Lae'zel emerged, panting heavily, her face flushed and her hair slightly disheveled.

"I have slain it," she proclaimed, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling as she gripped her sword tightly.

But before you could even respond, you heard that familiar, high-pitched buzzing again. The insect flew straight at Lae'zel, darting through the air with its wings fluttering madly. Lae'zel’s eyes widened in shock.

"What?! It still lives!" she cried, ducking as the insect swooped past her head, its wings brushing her face.

You couldn’t help but laugh now, your stomach aching from holding it in. "I thought you had slain it, mighty warrior?"

Lae’zel’s cheeks flushed with frustration. She scowled, swinging her sword at the insect again, but it easily evaded her blade, zipping out of reach. She let out a growl of pure annoyance, watching it disappear into the night sky.

She turned back to you, her chest still heaving, her sword now lowered.

"This… this was no ordinary insect," she declared, trying to recover her dignity. "A creature like that must have come from the Abyss itself."

You raised an eyebrow, still giggling. "Or maybe it was just a really big bug?"

Lae’zel huffed, glaring at you. “I should leave you to sleep in the open for making light of this!” But despite her words, there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she saw the shredded remains of your tent.

"Well," you said, trying to keep a straight face as you looked at the ruined mess behind her. "I guess I don’t need to worry about the bug anymore. Or the tent."

Lae'zel sighed, sheathing her sword. "Next time," she muttered, "I shall use less force." She looked over at the tattered remains of your tent, shaking her head. "But you will still owe me for this."

You snickered again. “Sure, Lae'zel. Sure.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Heart pounding, you sprinted through the camp, the image of the massive, many-legged insect burned into your mind. Without thinking, you headed straight for Shadowheart, who sat cross-legged near the campfire, deep in her meditation. You didn't bother to announce yourself, throwing yourself dramatically into her lap, wrapping your arms around her waist as if she were your last hope.

“Shadowheart!” you cried, your voice breathless, trembling. “Please, you have to help me! There’s a huge bug in my tent! I can’t go back in there; it’s too terrifying!”

Shadowheart’s eyes fluttered open, her meditation interrupted by your outburst. She sighed heavily, looking down at you sprawled across her lap with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Really?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “A bug? You’re a seasoned adventurer, a warrior capable of slaying monsters, and yet you run to me because of an insect?”

You buried your face in her lap, refusing to look up. “You don’t understand, Shadowheart! It’s enormous! It has all these legs and its wings buzz, and—”

She rolled her eyes, gently pushing you off her lap as she stood up, dusting herself off.

“You’re such a coward,” she muttered, though there was a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Fine, I’ll handle it.”

You watched with wide eyes as she strode purposefully toward your tent, grabbing a nearby staff and muttering something under her breath about the indignities she endured.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she called back over her shoulder, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling a surge of affection despite the fear still coursing through you.

You waited outside, listening intently. There was a moment of silence, then a sharp whack, followed by the unmistakable sound of Shadowheart cursing in a language you didn’t understand.

“There, that should deal with it,” you heard her say, her voice triumphant. But then, a moment later, there was a high-pitched shriek, and to your utter shock, Shadowheart came barreling out of the tent, her eyes wide with terror.

“Shadowheart?” you began, confused, but she didn’t stop. She sprinted past you at a speed you didn’t think was possible for a cleric, her hair whipping behind her, and then you saw it—the enormous insect, wings buzzing furiously, chasing her out of the tent.

“By the gods, it’s after me!” Shadowheart screamed, completely abandoning her usual poise and grace, her staff forgotten on the ground as she sprinted around the camp, trying desperately to shake the creature off. You couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter, doubling over, clutching your stomach as tears of mirth filled your eyes.

“You’re not helping!” Shadowheart snapped, but there was no real anger in her voice, only the panicked breathlessness of someone desperately trying to escape.

As if on cue, the insect suddenly veered away from Shadowheart, its buzzing wings shifting its trajectory toward you instead. Your laughter died in your throat, eyes widening as the bug flew straight at you, its many legs wriggling in a way that made your skin crawl.

“No, no, no, not me!” you yelped, stumbling backward, waving your arms frantically in an attempt to ward it off. But the insect was relentless, darting toward you with terrifying speed.

Shadowheart, now standing a safe distance away, had regained her composure, and to your horror, you saw her smirking.

“Who’s the coward now?” she called out, clearly taking great pleasure in your predicament.

“Shadowheart!” you yelled, dancing backward as the insect buzzed closer, trying to keep it at bay. “Are you going to help me or just stand there and laugh?”

“I don’t know,” she said, feigning thoughtfulness. “I think I quite like this role reversal.”

“Shadowheart!” you protested, but before you could say more, the bug swooped in closer, and you let out a panicked squeal, leaping back with all the grace of a startled cat.

“Alright, alright,” she said, finally taking pity on you. With a quick incantation, her hand glowed faintly, and a burst of radiant energy shot out, hitting the insect and sending it tumbling lifelessly to the ground.

You collapsed onto your knees, still breathing hard, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Shadowheart approached, her expression smug as she extended a hand to help you up.

“You’re welcome,” she said dryly, as if you hadn’t just witnessed her own escape attempt mere moments earlier. You took her hand, letting her pull you to your feet, and couldn’t help but grin.

“Next time,” you said, poking her in the ribs, “I’ll let the bug chase you first.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away, lacing her fingers with yours instead.

“If you’re expecting me to be your fearless protector from every insect in the wilds, you might be disappointed,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling.

“Maybe,” you teased, leaning in closer. “But I think I’ll keep you around anyway.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheria:

You sprinted across the campsite, your heart pounding as the image of that massive, many-legged creature in your tent sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't even think straight, your mind full of its hideous twitching and the way its eyes had seemed to follow you. Without hesitation, you hurled yourself into Jaheira’s arms, practically tackling her as she stood by the campfire, calmly sharpening her blade.

“Jaheira!” you wailed, burying your face in her chest. “Please, you have to do something! There’s a giant bug in my tent, and it’s… it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen! Please, just get rid of it, I beg you!”

Jaheira let out a long, exasperated sigh, though you could see the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth.

“A bug? That’s what has you in such a state?” She shook her head, wrapping an arm around you despite your trembling. “You’ve faced monsters, fought against gods, and yet a little insect sends you running?”

“This isn’t just any insect,” you whimpered. “It’s enormous, Jaheira! It has… too many legs and wings that make this awful buzzing noise, and it just looked at me!” You shuddered dramatically, clutching her tighter. “Please, you have to do something!”

Jaheira rolled her eyes, muttering something about the fragility of adventurers before patting your back reassuringly.

“Alright, alright,” she said, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “I’ll go speak with your fearsome creature.” She set you down gently and strode confidently toward the tent, muttering a nature-based spiel under her breath. “All creatures of this world are precious, beloved by nature, no matter how small or strange they may be. They have their place in this grand cycle of life.”

You watched with wide eyes as she approached your tent, pushing the flap aside. There was a moment of silence, then a faint rustling noise followed by what you swore was a low, indignant buzzing. Jaheira emerged a moment later, looking uncharacteristically upset, her lips pressed into a thin line.

You blinked in surprise.

“What… what happened?” you asked, hesitantly taking a step toward her.

“That,” Jaheira said, pointing back at the tent with her thumb, her expression turning almost pouty, “was the rudest insect I have ever come across.”

Her voice was tinged with disbelief as if she couldn’t quite fathom what had just transpired. You tried not to laugh but failed miserably, a giggle escaping you despite the tension in your body. “Rude? Really?”

“Yes,” Jaheira insisted, her eyes narrowing. “I approached it with all the grace and respect nature demands, and I cannot even repeat the words it spoke to me!” She huffed, crossing her arms, and you couldn’t help but find her indignation adorable.

“Well,” you said slowly, still trying to bite back your laughter, “do you think it was rude enough to, you know, justify killing it?”

Jaheira stared at you, then sighed deeply, as though she were admitting defeat to some great, cosmic force.

“Yes,” she grumbled. “Yes, it was rude enough.”

“Thank the gods,” you breathed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Please, just get rid of it.”

Jaheira squared her shoulders, determination flashing in her eyes as she headed back toward the tent.

“I will deal with this insolent insect once and for all,” she declared, brandishing her staff with newfound purpose.

You watched, holding your breath as she marched back inside, ready to rid your tent of its unwelcome guest. But barely a second passed before there was a furious buzzing noise, and Jaheira came hurtling back out, her eyes wide with shock, the insect hot on her heels, its wings flapping frantically.

“By the Oak Father!” she yelled, ducking and weaving as the insect buzzed around her head, clearly having taken offense to her presence. She stumbled backward, tripping over a loose root and nearly falling in her haste to escape, all the while swatting uselessly at the creature.

You couldn’t help it—you burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching your stomach as you doubled over.

“Jaheira,” you managed to gasp out between fits of giggles, “it looks like it wasn’t finished being rude!”

Jaheira shot you a glare, but there was a twinkle in her eyes despite her frustration.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she muttered, though you could see the faint smile tugging at her lips. “Next time, you can deal with it yourself.”

“Never,” you replied, still laughing, and you reached out to pull her into a hug, even as the insect finally buzzed off to some other part of the camp. “That’s why I have you, my brave and fearsome Harper.”

Jaheira snorted, but you could feel her relax against you, her arms wrapping around you in return.

“You’re hopeless,” she said, but her voice was warm, her annoyance already melting away. “Completely and utterly hopeless.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, still smiling, “but at least I have you to face the terrifying bugs.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I loved loved loveddd writing this it made me giggle so much and I hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[mynameismckenziemae]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Rhett Abbott x Female reader

This is my submission for @lewmagoo’s holiday celebration.

Prompt: warming each other up after a snowball fight

Warnings: MDNI! Adults (18+) only! Smut, unprotected p in v, teasing, cockwarming, etc.

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“Really?” Rhett stops in his tracks, hearing the thud of the snowball you threw at his Carhartt-covered back rather than feeling it. “If you’re gonna start a snowball fight, you can’t throw like a-“

The next one bursts when it hits the top of his beanie, and you giggle at his shocked look as he turns around.

“Throw like a what, Rhett?” You tease. “A girl?”

The way he drops the facade and empty bucket of feed to gather snow makes you smile. You love every version of him, but your favorite is when he allows himself to have fun. The fun he wasn’t allowed to have as a boy.

When it sails past your shoulder, you squeal, hiding behind one (of the three) furry cows Rhett purchased for you after overhearing how cute you think they are.

Well, he says they’re for you, but it’s hard to miss the way his face lights up when someone asks about the small herd.

“Don’t let him get me,” you whisper to the sweet, oblivious animal.

“Oh c’mon,” he calls when he sees your booted feet under her fur, “that’s not fair, I’d never hurt my-your babies.”

An unladylike snort sneaks out at his slip of the tongue as you bend down to start packing snow together.

The snow falling from the sky and blanketing the ground nearly absorbs all sound, and even your heavy-footed cowboy can sneak up on you.

Just as you glance up at the crisp creak of his boot, a ball of white and wet smacks you right in the face.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, running over while you wipe your eyes with your gloves, trying not to let him see you grin. “I meant to get your hat and-hey, you alright?”

He pulls you into his arms when you sniff dramatically. You allow yourself a quick inhale of his sweet hay and woodsy smell as he murmurs, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“No you’re not,” you whisper kissing his jaw, “but you will be.” You push the snow stuck to your gloves into the back of his collar.

“Fuck!” He gasps, arching into you to get away from your frigid fingers. But he recovers quickly, gripping your wrists as his steely blue eyes bore into yours.

“You always fight dirty,” he murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips.

“And you always fall for it,” you smile, eyes fluttering closed as he leans in.

But he diverts at the last second, instead of a kiss, he laughs as he gently pushes you back into the snow, falling beside you a moment later. You can't help but smile as he starts spreading his legs and arms, making a snow angel.

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Rhett’s lips are turning blue by the time you make it inside an hour later. It’s nearly dark and the snow is still steadily falling. As is the temperature.

But the farmhouse is warm and cozy, thanks to the fire Rhett always keeps going.

“It’s fu-fu-fucking cold out there,” his teeth chatter, and his hands shake as he tries to unzip his coat.

Pulling off your gloves to help, you nod in agreement, “Let’s get this wet stuff off so we can warm up by the fire.”

“Good idea,” he grimaces as he pulls his soaked coat off, “‘m freezing my cock off.”

“That’s a shame,” you murmur as you slip off your coat, unbuckling your coveralls next and stepping out of them, “because I had plans for it.”

The way his head jerks up in disbelief is laughable.

“Really,” you nod, biting your lip as you walk backward into the living room in just your shapeless thermals.

But by the heat in his eyes, one would guess you’re wearing the sexiest negligee.

“Oh well,” you shrug before turning around, biting your lip to keep from laughing as you hear him stumble, trying to get his feet out of his coveralls.

It’s warm as you sit on the rug by the fireplace, but Rhett’s sudden presence makes you shiver. His knees crack as he sits behind you, his long legs on the outside of yours.

“‘t didn’t freeze off,” his big hands slide over your hips, pulling you back against his thick erection, “see?”

God, do you ever. Well, you can’t see technically, but you sure can feel it. His chest is cold against your back, even through each of your layers, but his cock feels like a brand against your lower back. The feeling alone sends heat through your body before settling between your legs.

“Still feels cold,” you lie, turning your head to brush your lips over the stubble on his cheek, “better warm it up.”

He chuckles as you turn, but it dies in his throat as you pull off your top and reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples tighten when he begins to lean in. “Wait. You next.”

A smile pulls at your lips when his brow furrows. It’s all for show. He loves it when you make him wait.

The same goes for your pants and underwear, then his.

Your hands slide up his thighs that jump under your touch, avoid his bobbing cock as they trace the deep V, and pinch his nipples before gently pushing him down.

“You-hey, don’t tease,” he grumbles when you crawl over him, dipping your head to pull him in your mouth loosely, for only a moment to get him nice and wet.

His weak protest is ignored as you sit up, steadying yourself on his chest with one hand as the other drags the head of his cock through your arousal before slowly sinking down, inhaling sharply at the stretch.

He gasps as he bottoms out inside you, those big hands gripping your hips tightly. His wide eyes follow your hand trailing down his chest and then between your legs to make slow, lazy circles.

“Fuck,” he breathes when he feels you tighten in response to your ministrations.

When he tries to guide your hips to move, you shake your head, “Not yet.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, pupils dilating further but he nods.

“Good boy,” you whisper, smiling when his hands bruise your hips in response to the praise.

There’s nothing hotter than when your big, tough cowboy lets you take the lead and the fact that he’s so unruly with everyone else makes his submission that much sweeter.

“Just lie still and watch me get myself off while I warm your cock up,” the hand still resting on his chest pinches his nipple before you sit up and tease your own.

“It’s-I’m plenty warm,” he argues, the ridges of his abs tensing when you ignore him, moaning softly.

It doesn’t take long before your release is within sight. He chews on his lip and his chest begins to heave as he watches and feels you begin to unravel above him.

“Fuck,” he breathes when you unintentionally begin to gyrate on him; he lifts a tentative hand to toy with your other nipple, “look at you. So fuckin’ pretty.”

That’s all it takes. Your head falls to your shoulder with a soft cry as the waves of pleasure roll over you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he grits out, sounding far away, “you’re milking’ me.”

Still deep inside you, Rhett flips you over before you return fully to your body.

He pushes the air from your lungs as he thrusts into you hard with a groan. There are sloppy kisses placed on your collarbone and neck before he buries his face in your shoulder.

“I-fu, you’re…you’re so good to me,” he pants, angling his narrow hips to rub your clit with each measured thrust, “love you so much.”

“I-“ your nails bite into the thick muscle of his back as he fucks the rest of your thought from your head with a particularly deep thrust. The orgasm you didn’t know was approaching hits before you had a chance to warn him.

The twinkling lights from the tree in the corner blur as you fall over the edge. Your teeth sink into Rhett’s shoulder to muffle the sounds his body is pulling from yours.

His hips stutter at the sharp bite and he cums too; the sound of his low, shaky groan in your ear as he fills your pussy sends a shiver through you.

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“I love you too,” you whisper a few minutes later, pushing the hair off his forehead.

He’s smiling when he lifts his head to press a kiss to your lips.

“Can you reach that blanket?” You tilt your chin to the throw at the end of the couch. The fire is warm and so is Rhett’s body, but the sweat is cooling and on your skin.

“Nah,” he grins, kissing your chin next, continuing down your neck and lower, “I can think of a better way to keep you warm.”

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I’m tagging my Bob girlies (gn), hope you don’t mind!

@lexixstewart

@dizzybee03

@its-the-pilot

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@atarmychick007

@littlezee80

@k-k0129

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@jessicab1991

@lonelysoul50

@landpiranha-blog

@fandomology101

@writtingrose

@rascallyrascalreads

@glenpowellluver

@seitmai

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Welcome Home

Kinktober 2024 - Day 17

Pairing: Wolf-Hybrid!Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader

Kink: Breeding

Word Count: 1000+

Summary: Geralt comes home from a job and all he wants is you.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, knotting, mating press, possessive sex, d/s dynamics), wolf-hybrid (wolf ears, tail, and thicker body hair), soft!Geralt, caring!Reader, domestic life

a/n: I hope I did alright writing this fic! I haven't written much about hybrid dynamics, but I wish I did okay! Hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You had heard of the White Wolf amongst the people in the village, some said that he was a monster, some said that he was a hero, but you had your own opinion for the white-haired witcher, considering that he spent most nights in your bed. You lived on the outskirts of the village as a healer with two buildings on your land, one was your house and the other was your infirmary. You met Geralt when Jaskier brought him to your infirmary for help, and while helping him, you fell for him. It was early morning when Geralt came through the door, the floorboards creaking under his weight. You were just waking up and making yourself a cup of tea when he came in. You gave him a warm smile and pulled another mug out for him, and you walked over to him as he set his bag and sword by the door. He gave a tired smile as he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss on your lips. 

“Welcome home, Wolf.” You whispered and nuzzled your nose against his and he let out a soft noise and his shoulders dropped into a relaxed stance, and his tail swooshed from side to side. You smiled softly, “Let me start you a bath.” You said as you caressed his fluffy ear softly and went to move, but his large hand on your hip stopped you. 

“Only if you join me.” Geralt murmured as he kissed you again, making you smile wider. 

“Of course.” You hummed as you pulled away and moved to fill a large stock pot with clean water and you placed it over the wood fire stove. It was already lit because you were making tea, and you watched Geralt as he walked to the tub in the corner and he dragged it over to be in front of the stove. 

He stripped down to his under cloths, revealing his slightly fuzzy chest and you could see his cock half-hard. Once the water was in a light boil, you poured it into the steel lined tub. You filled the pot up again with more clean water and poured it into the tub to cool the boiling water off. He shucked off his cloths and sunk into the bath with a groan, and you grabbed your bucket of soaps and salves. You sat on the stool next to the tub and you grabbed a small bucket to scoop the water. You would join him after he was cleaned of the grime that built up during his days on the road. 

After washing his hair, ears, tail, and cleaning the blood and grime off of his face and body. You drained the tub before starting another pot of water and once the second bath was ready, Geralt was practically tearing your clothes off, letting out soft growls as your soft skin was revealed to you. You let out a soft gasp as he lifted you into his arms and climbed into the tub. He held you in his lap as he helped you tie your hair up to keep it out of the water. He nuzzled into your neck and mouthed at your skin softly as his hands slid in between your thighs and up to cup your mound, making you moan softly. 

His sharper than normal canines grazed your neck softly, “Smells so good. Missed you so much.” He growled against your skin and he caressed up to your breasts and palmed them with his warm hands. 

You moaned and you reached back and tangled your fingers in his damp hair softly and tugged softly and he growled louder. He was quick to pick you up and carried you to your shared room. You gasped as he gently tossed you onto the bed that Geralt had arranged into a nest. His nose twitched as he smelled your arousal at the show of his strength and he climbed on top of you and nuzzled into your neck. His hands trailed down to your thighs and pulled them up to wrap around his waist, and you moaned as he nipped and sucked on the skin of your neck. 

He reached down and stroked his throbbing cock and lined up to your drooling hole and slowly slipped inside of you. You cried out softly as he bottomed out in your weeping cunt and you could feel the base of his knot swelling a bit as he bottomed out. You moaned and your nails dug into his shoulders and you held him flush against your heaving breasts. He caught your lips in a hungry and passionate kiss and he adjusted your legs up to the crook of his elbows and pressed you into the soft mattress before he started thrusting deep and slow in and out of you. You held him close as he pressed deeper into your already full cunt, feeling his knot press against your hole. He kept up the same deep and slow pace, rutting into you with passion and vigor. You let out moans and cries as the wolf inside of him took over and his thrusts grew harder and faster. 

The coil in your belly tightened and your thighs shook in his hands and they tightened, leaving bruises in your plush skin. He kissed you hungrily as you cried his name out and came on his cock, making him grunt and his knot slipped into your pulsing cunt. “Gonna breed you, ‘mega.” He groaned against your skin as his canines grazed the skin of your neck. His hind mind taking over as his knot swelled, locking you together as he painted your insides with his warm cum. “Take my pups, make you my mate.” He grunted louder as he thrusted impossibly deeper in your cunt. 

After his knot went down, Geralt cleaned you two up before climbing back under the blankets. You two basked in the afterglow, with his tail wrapped around your waist as you laid on his broad chest. He rubbed your back softly with his warm hands making you let out a happy sigh and sink further into his hold. He kissed your head softly and whispered to you how much he loved you, and you whispered it back to him before drifting off to sleep, happy and safe.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 9 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): use of the d-slur, the one for lesbians. use of the q-slur, the one that’s been taken back.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 10

You lost track of time, mind consumed by Regina's mouth on yours. The feel of her lips, her hands playing with the hairs at the back of your neck, made you tingle. You didn't know much about actual technique when it came to kissing, but taking cues from and mirroring Regina seemed to work. When she opened her mouth and bit your bottom lip, you chanced a little tongue. Met with welcome, the kiss deepened. The sensations had you shivering, hands gripping tightly at Regina's waist.

"Bed, now," Hazy and a little slow, you chased Regina when she pulled away, making a pathetic little sound at the loss of her. She stood up and pulled you with her, roughly pushing you onto your back. Sprawled on the bed, you could only watch as she climbed over you. Soon, her lips descended down on yours again and your eyes blinked shut.

Then, startling you like a bucket of cold water thrown onto you, her hands snuck under your shirt. Her nails brushed at your ribs and you, despite the nervous excitement bubbling, began to feel apprehensive.

"Reg," You mumbled, hands moving from her shoulders to her upper arms. "Reg, I- hold on."

"What?" She kissed down your cheeks to your neck.

"Hold on, I-" Your breath hitched, the tickle of her lips in such a sensitive place hindering your ability to speak. "I don't wanna have sex."

As if shaken from a trance, Regina pulled away abruptly. Her hands slid out of your shirt and rested on either side of your torso, looming above you. The dim, warm tinted lamp light from the nightstand made her hair, hanging around you, seem like a halo. Or a canopy.

"You don't want to have sex." She said, voice a little hoarse and eyes betraying something until she pulled the shutters closed. "You're lucky I'm letting you get this far."

You stared up at her, stunned. "What? Letting me? You're on top of me."

"I know you want this. You've been wanting this for a long time. I've seen the way you look at me, the way you act around me." She spoke fast as if she was trying to convince both you and herself.

Panic was beginning to constrict around your throat. It took a while to find your voice.

"Reg, I'm sorry, but-"

"You should be sorry." She crawled away from on top of you and stood up. You leaned up on your elbows to keep looking at her. "You should be so sorry."

"I- I am," You tried to reassure her, tried to hold down your own hurt. "I just thought this was a little fast."

She rolled her eyes at you, though the action seemed jilted. "You've been pining the whole time we've been friends, I'd say it's been long enough. And now, when you have all you want offered to you, you reject it."

"Is this what this is about? Rejection? Regina, I just meant not yet."

"You're so fucking full of yourself." She accused, pointing a finger at you. The whole display was made weaker by the glistening in her eyes and the redness covering her from neck to ears.

"You think you can walk into my life, cause all sorts of chaos, take my family from me, and then reject me?" She hissed, gesturing with her arms all the while. You swallowed, unsure of what you should do.

She was firing insults at you and the only thing you could think to do was sit there and take it.

"Chaos? I'm not trying to take your family from you, Reggie, where's this coming from?" You stood up, feeling too awkward to be on the bed.

"You think I haven't seen the way you act around my mom or my sister? You want to be me so bad, you're acting like they're your family. They're mine and you're never gonna have them! You're never gonna have a family!"

You reeled back, offended by the uncalled-for insult.

"You have the gall to come to my home, my family's Thanksgiving dinner, acting all holier than thou meanwhile Kylie fawns over you and mom dotes on you."

"Are you jealous? They love you, Regina." Your ability to argue was getting flimsier by the minute, the stinging in your eyes inhibiting any power you could've drawn from.

"Jealous? You think I'm fucking jealous? I have everything and you have nothing!"

"I don't think that's true, Reg. I think that you're hurt and saying things you don't mean."

"You always put words in my mouth, try to manipulate me and change me into someone you think I should be. I'm good the way I am!"

"Change can be good, Reg, I just-"

"God, you're actually so insufferable. Genuinely, I cannot stand to be around you. I hate you." She turned away from you, hands going to her hair and tugging. "I don't need to change. I hate that you try to make me. I hate that you've already done it, with your fucked up mind games."

You blinked rapidly and breathed in deeply, trying to stay calm. She was just being destructive because she was hurt. She didn't mean any of it. She was just earlier kissing you. Didn't that count for something?

"I don't play mind games. I just wish you were kinder."

"You wish I was this and that, and what about me?" She whirled around and strode up to you. "I am this way. I am not kind, I'm not soft, and I thrive."

"Are you thriving, Reg?"

"Do not call me what stupid name!" She yelled, getting right in your face. You flinched back, startled and scared. "Oh, you're gonna cry now that your other tactics don't work anymore? I see right through you, you freak."

"Don't yell at me, Reggie." You said, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. You wiped at your eyes furiously. "I'm sorry, okay, for rejecting you, for trying to change you. I didn't mean to manipulate you."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want to you." She hissed. "I'll fucking ruin your life. I'll tell people you're a lesbian and what you tried to do to me."

"What?" You breathed. "What do you mean? What I tried to do to you- do you hear yourself?"

"I hear myself, jorts, and so will everybody else when I tell them what a disgusting, perverse little dyke you are."

You wouldn't have described it as something snapping, but you'd had enough by then. It stung, hearing that from her, of all people. It stung more than you liked to admit because you knew her.

You knew she didn't mean it, she was lashing out, and desperately trying to cling to the power she'd lost the moment she'd been vulnerable with you- kissed you.

You didn't want to feel it, so you were mean instead.

"Just like you did to Janis then. Did you kiss her too and when you got scared you decided to ruin her life. Is that how it went?" You laughed bitterly and before she could interrupt, went on. "Is that how you're gonna live your life, Regina? Anytime you feel those dirty, lesbian urges you'll use some innocent bystander to sate your lust and then, because they know too much, you ruin them? Sounds very sustainable."

"How dare you accuse me of being that," Her face was scrunched in anger, red like the devil.

"Oh, I dare, I seem to recall you were just kissing me, on top of me, hands up my shirt. You're not fooling anybody, Reg, you're a filthy queer just like me." You were aiming to hurt now, wanting her to feel like you did. "The truth is, Regina, that you fucking hate yourself. You hate yourself and you just don't know what to do with yourself so you make everybody around you feel the exact same way."

"No, that's not true, I-" Seeing her face crumble, her posture turn defensive, stoked the fire of your anger. You wanted her to hurt, wanted to punish her for leaving you back then and insulting you now.

"You're like some shitty reincarnation of Heather Chandler, all high and mighty until you're inevitably toppled by some nobody you were so sure was so below you that they couldn't even pose a threat."

"Great film analysis there, loser." Regina quipped weakly, already backing down. You weren't done, though.

"It's only a matter of time before Cady Heron pours you a glass of drain cleaner too, and I'll be looking forward to the day." You sniped, watching as Regina's lip curled in an exaggerated show of being unaffected. You knew her. You knew she'd seen Heathers and you knew the parallels weren't pleasing to the eye. You knew you were going too far, but you couldn't stop.

"You think you're such a martyr, you think that-"

"I thought we were friends, Regina! All I wanted was to be your friend. Sure, I liked you, but that didn't have to mean anything until you kissed me."

"It meant something the whole time! You can't act like it was nothing, our whole friendship is tainted by it!"

"Get over yourself, Regina, you could've ignored it like you do every flaw you have!"

"I don't have flaws, I'm above that." She scoffed, but the tremor in her voice told you that even she didn't think that was true. "I'm doing everyone a favour by showing who's on top."

"Who are you? A fucking dictator? Is that how you truly see yourself? Because I see a scared little girl, confused and angry, taking it out on the easiest targets."

"Nobody gets to feel okay when I feel like this! It's not fair! It's not fair they get to be happy and I have to be like this all the time! I hate this and they deserve it!"

You fought to ignore your heart breaking for her, how her words and obvious cries for help made you want to bleed for her. You'd stood idly and let her hurt you for long enough, it was about time you stood up for yourself.

"Oh, well, I'm so sorry then. I'm starting to fucking get Janis. Maybe I could've come up with the Homecoming sprinkler prank myself. Maybe I should've let you use the lard for your face."

You regretted it the moment the words left your lips.

A beat, both of you staring at each other, faces slack and chests heaving from all the screaming, regret and betrayal swirling in the air like a toxic tornado, passed.

"You knew?" Regina whispered, suddenly so quiet the wind from your sails wooshed away. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

"I... I did." You looked down. Fuck. You'd fucked up. You'd insinuated you wanted to see her die. You didn't want that at all. Tears sprung to your eyes again and you pressed the heels of your palms to them.

Could this even be fixed at this point? You should've just shut up and it wouldn't have escalated like this. You knew why she'd reacted the way she did, you knew, but you hadn't been able to stay level-headed when she'd started coming at you.

"Get out." She spoke normally, volume steady. She was shaking, you could see that even with your faltering vision.

"I'm sorry, Reg, I really am. I should've told you. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I'm sorry."

"I said get out."

Unable to hold it any longer, a sob burst out and you decided to leave before you humiliated yourself any further. You grabbed your overnight bag and practically ran out of the room.

You should've been quieter because Mrs George came to see who was stomping down the stairs so late. She had a wine glass in hand, a silken robe tied at her waist, and a worried look on her face.

"Oh, hi, I packed some leftovers for you to- oh, honey, what's wrong?"

"It's- it's nothing, Mrs George." You hiccuped and looked away, embarrassed by your crying. You couldn't look her in the eye. Did you want her to be your mom? Did it matter when Regina clearly saw it that way even if it wasn't true? Taking any comfort from her now felt like proving her right.

"It doesn't seem like nothing. Why don't we go sit and you can tell me what happened. Did Regina say something mean?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, please."

Mrs George sighed. "There's leftovers in the fridge for you." She lingered as you passed. "Honey?"

"What?" Usually, you didn't have the heart to be so rude to her.

"You're welcome here anytime." She smiled at you gently. Clearly, she was experienced in dealing with volatile teenagers. You turned and headed for the kitchen.

Walking home, bag on your shoulder and various containers of delicious food in your arms, you felt numb. You'd left through the garage door, grabbing your clothes from the mudroom as you went, but you still had on the sweatpants.

Tears dried on your cheeks, eyes swollen and nose stuffy, you didn't know what to do. Snow was falling and the streetlights made the scene look more beautiful than was warranted. You felt empty, hollowed out like you'd spilt your guts, heart, and most other internal organs on the floor of Regina's bedroom.

You got home, put the leftovers in the fridge, and stood in the kitchen. Swallowing on a dry mouth, throat scratchy, you figured there was little else you could do other than smoke a cigarette.

You stepped onto the porch and sank down onto the bench swing. Lighting up and inhaling, you closed your eyes as the smoke passed through you.

Regina by the poolside in her bikini, Regina eating pizza on your couch, Regina on the passenger seat of your car, Regina smoking a cigarette with you under the bleachers.

That was all gone, then.

Notes: I was a little wary of having the chapter be only the argument, but it got so long that I figured it'd be nice to have the next chapters work towards a resolution straight away. No need to stretch out the acute misery for any longer than necessary. I'll say, though, that just like IRL something like this isn't just fixed right away. So look forward to more chapters! This is getting so long. I started writing this like, hey, a cute oneshot with a butch OC! Here we fucking are.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat, @theenglishswiftie,@gabby-duhh, @sweetmissnothing, @masterofpuppets-10, @l1lass, @starved-mortal

[burningembers91]

Hallasan - Kim Do-Hyun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

The Choices We Make The Beauty and her Beast The Difference Between Men and Boys In the Harsh Light of Day

Synopsis: Kim Do-Hyun takes you on your first adventure, and has serious thoughts about his future as a mercenary.

A/N: When researching mountains in Korea, I was originally going to base this story in Jirisan National Park, but then I came across Hallasan, and it's now officially added to my travel bucket list. I've added some pictures below because the scenery is seriously stunning!

It had always been your dream to travel, to explore every hidden gem the world had to offer. Kim Do-Hyun knew how badly you wanted to see the world, and he’d made it his mission to make your dreams come true. It had been six weeks since the night in the bar, since Do-Hyun had given into his desires. You were everything he’d ever wanted, so perfect in every way. You’d both been stuck in a blissful haze, so wrapped up in one another you barely noticed anything else. He set your heart and soul on fire, so unlike any man you’d ever been with before. 

It had been Do-Hyun’s idea to go away for the weekend, to give you your first taste of adventure. He’d decided to start small, whisking you away to Jeju Island with the idea of climbing Hallasan. The views were exquisite, so out of this world and entirely breathtaking. He’d conquered the summit several times, and he knew you’d love the view from the top of the mountain. He’d gone out and bought you your own pair of hiking boots and accessories, sparing no expense for the girl of his dreams. He’d booked you into a luxury hotel, complete with a spa day to soothe the muscles he knew would ache after the hike. He was due to leave for Uzbekistan in five days, and he wanted to treat you like a queen before he left. Do-Hyun had no intention of telling you what he really did, but there was always that niggling fear in the back of his brain that he’d have to come clean sooner or later. You’d asked him about his job a few times and he’d always kept it vague, giving you enough details to stop you from getting suspicious. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d juggle his mercenary duties with your relationship, but he would worry about that later. The only thing on his mind at the moment was giving you the best weekend of your life. 

Your flight left Seoul early, your eyes still bleary with sleep as Do-Hyun guided you through the airport. You were not a morning person, and it baffled you that your boyfriend could seemingly rise at any hour of the day, bright eyed and raring to go. He pressed a large latte lovingly into your hands, brushing his lips softly over the top of your head as you leaned into him. In hindsight, a 6am flight hadn’t been his smartest move, but getting an early start on the hike was a must. 

Do-Hyun had been fortunate to see many beautiful things in his life, but nothing quite compared to the look on your face as the plane started its descent onto the island. Your eyes were bright, your smile wide as you took in the glittering ocean and large green spaces. 

“Incredible,” you breathed, snapping a few pictures from the window. 

It was a perfect day for a hike, the weather warm and the sky cloudless. You started your ascent, donned head to toe in the designer gear Do-Hyun had gifted you. You’d always prided yourself on keeping fit, but climbing the mountain humbled you. You had to keep stopping, pretending you were taking in the view, trying to control your breathing and acting like your lungs weren’t about to burst out of your chest. Do-Hyun’s level of fitness was astounding, and you tried your best to keep up with him, but the man was a machine. 

“Can you slow down a little?” You panted, finally admitting defeat two hours in. 

“You getting tired?” He teased, smiling at your beet red face.  “Nope, just… taking it all in.” You could barely speak, your breath laboured as you attempted to ease a stitch in your side.  “Let me help you.” Do-Hyun flipped his backpack on his chest, before hoisting you onto his back. He continued up the mountain, carrying you as though you weighed nothing. Once you’d regained your breath, you continued on, Do-Hyun slowing his pace to match yours as you made your way to the top. 

You’d searched up pictures of Hallasan before the trip, but nothing could compare to the real life beauty once you got to the top. The view was straight from a fairytale, so utterly breathtaking. You sat for a while at the top, just taking in the view. Do-Hyun watched you as you took in the sight, his heart aching with love. 

“What do you think?” He asked, coming to stand next to you as you snapped a few pictures.  “Incredible,” you smiled. “Thank you for bringing me here.” “I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?” He whispered, cupping your chin in between his hands. “I love you.” The words he’d longed to say left his lips so easily, pulling you in close as you whispered the words back. 

That night, your muscles aching with the fatigue of a seven hour hike, Do-Hyun ran you a bath, the hot water soothing your aching legs as you reclined against his chest amidst the pile of vanilla scented bubbles. He made love to you, entwined in the silk sheets, drawing your pleasure out again and again. Your moans drove him crazy, your soft whimpers spurring him on as he made you fall apart over and over again. 

Neither of you wanted to leave the island, content to stay locked away in the sancitiy of your hotel. But Do-Hyun had a job to do, had a team who were counting on him. For the first time in a long time, he found himself hesitant to go, wishing he’d turned down the job to stay with you. 

He’d never been bothered about putting his life on the line for a payday, not since the passing of his parents. For a long time, Do-Hyun hadn’t had anyone or anything to live for; but now he had you. He didn’t want to leave you, didn’t want to fight wars for rich and powerful men anymore, didn’t want to risk his life for those who didn’t give a damn about him so long as he got the job done. 

As he boarded the plane that would take him to his next mission, he replayed his goodbye with you. A lingering kiss that he didn’t want to end, his hands gripping you waist as he willed his feet to walk away from your door. 

For the first time, Do-Hyun wondered whether it was time to give up his life as a mercenary and settle down with the woman of his dreams.

[prodbymaui]

I Loved You (Dangerously)

drunk off that love, fuck my head up

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: infidelity

WORD COUNT: 1.8k+ words

WARNINGS: bulging kink, choking kink, strength kink (?)

SYNOPSIS: You're in a lovingly, domestic relationship with your boyfriend. Or so everyone thought.

A/N: first jeno fic, happy reading! please do leave your thoughts if you can! <3

Lively chatters, car honking, vendors selling. The sun has exchanged positions with the moon yet it is not the end of a day for the people of Myeongdong. The chilly breeze bites through your flesh, but you suppose you are to blame for not dawning a puffer jacket.

Steps quickening, your keys jingling in your hands as you head back to your apartment. Your phone pings and catches your attention, it displays an email from your co-worker but it's not what you looked at though. Eyes settling on the time, you glance where the picture of your lovely boyfriend smiling innocently and widely lies. A quarter after 8PM, he should be in his own apartment now.

Upon arriving, your doorknob twists easily, as though it wasn't locked. Did you forget to? You were certain you did before leaving. Carefully, you hold the door open, heart beating rapidly as fear creeps up on your spine. Am I about to die? Hopefully not. You have a lot of things on your bucket list and dying young isn't one of them.

The lights are on, and music fills the entire flat. That song is too familiar for you. Closing the door behind you, your eyes roam around, observing. Not even a minute and as if on cue, a man who wears the face of your boyfriend walks into your vision, seemingly fresh out of the shower. He then meets your eyes with no surprise.

''Great. You're home.''

You roll your eyes. Raking your eyes up and down on his body, heat burns your cheeks as you turn away, pursing your lips at the sight of water droplets dripping along his bare chest. You chuck your shoes off and head to the kitchen. ''Why are you here?''

You heard a scoff. Footsteps following your trace. ''Why not? I'm more comfortable here than at my own apartment.''

''Cut the chase, Jeno.'' You face him. ''What are you doing here?'' And when you only receive a grin from the man who's leaning on the wall, you sigh. ''Did you got fired again?''

''Ah.. you know me too well.''

Irritated, you shake your head and proceed to walk out of the kitchen but before you could, Jeno's already catching your wrist– preventing you from getting away. Tugging you closer, he offers a smile.

''Don't walk out on me now, babe.''

You click your tongue. ''Shut up.''

Chuckling, Jeno wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck. ''So feisty.''

Jeno runs his palms on your side up and down as he plants sweet sweet pecks on the vastness of your neck. His kisses then eventually travels upwards where he connects your lips with his. What a lighthearted kiss turns into somewhat a desperate one, swiftly licking each other's lips before sucking on them.

''Fuck, I missed you–'' Grabbing the back of your thighs, Jeno carries you with ease as he transfers both of you to your bedroom, his body leading him despite the lack of vision. It's like telling him 'Worry no more about tripping, you've been here enough that I've memorized every single thing.'

Jeno is lying if he says it doesn't fuel the smugness in him.

He slowly settles you on the bed, hovering over you, gripping your hips as your legs circle his waist. Pushing his tongue in, Jeno licks every wall, every part that he can reach. A drool escapes the end of your lips as you share the messy kiss with Jeno, groaning when his boner rubs against your clothed core, putting pressure on your clit.

A string of saliva that connects your lips is the thing you see before your top gets taken off of you and your bra flies somewhere in the room, the only thing your mind could fully register is Jeno's tongue flicking over your nipple as he keeps his fingers entertained with the other. The air thickens, and suckles echoes in your bedroom.

Pleasure shoots up your spine as Jeno grinds, angle perfectly aligned for the head of his cock to nudge your clit. You whimper. ''Jeno, fuck...''

But Jeno's ears are shut the moment he takes your nubs in his mouth, eyes closed as he savors the delish before him. Tightening your legs, you move to press your core onto him harder, hands squeezing his biceps. ''Jeno, please..''

Jeno snaps out of his daze at the vulnerability. A music to his ears, his eyes darken, once again he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. You squeak, body jostling as your pants and underwear get ripped off of you, thrown carelessly.

His fingers trace the line between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little before bringing it to his mouth, licking your wetness– tasting you. Jeno moans, head cloudy. Jeno takes in the sight of you after opening his eyes that he doesn't even know had closed. 

''Please, Jeno..'' Breathing heavily, legs wide open for him, already looking so fucked out when he haven't even done anything yet. Jeno growls at the urge to eat you up, make you his.

Cupping one ankle, Jeno peppers kisses along your calves, eyes not leaving your figure. ''Tell me what you want. What exactly are you saying please to, baby?''

At this point, all your sanity had left you. Embarrassment? It was a thing of yesterday. Reaching up to Jeno, your next words snaps his patience. ''W-want your cock.. I want your cock in me.''

Smirking, Jeno pecks you again before going down on you, making out with your pussy as if it's your lips. His tongue wiggles, pulling out lewd moans from you, gripping the sheets in an attempt to prevent yourself from pulling his hair instead. Jeno flicks his tongue over your puffed clit.

''Fuck, Jeno–!''

A finger slides past your entrance, your walls engulfing the digit with warmth and velvetines. You're so fucking wet, there's little to no resistance. Another follows suit, Jeno scissors you properly all the while he enjoys himself in getting drunk from your essence and the music that is your explicit sounds.

Pulling his face away, his skin covered by your slick glistens under the bedroom lights. Jeno chuckles as your walls clamp around his fingers. He then curls them in an angle that prods at your spot sweetly, your back arches off the bed. Latching on your perky nipples, Jeno tugs his towel and gives himself pumps to tend his hard cock.

''Put it in..'' Jeno mumbles profanities seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stare at his angry leaking tip.

Before you could whine about the loss of his fingers in your, Jeno replaces it with his girthy cock, slipping inside as you moan in unison. Burying the rest of his cock, he presses your knees on your chest and starts a brutal pace that jostles your body to the headboard repeatedly.

''Jeno! F-fuck! So big.. it feels so good–!''

Jeno grips the top of the headboard as he madly drives his cock in and out of you, his eyes glinting with lust and something you couldn't decipher.

''When's the last time I had you like this?You're so fucking tight– you're suffocating my fucking cock. Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy stretches widely and sucks my cock inside. It feels good, huh?'' Jeno nudges your legs to a wide V, planting his foot on the bed as he gives it to you faster, harder, and deeper. 

Looking down, he notices a bump that continuously appears and disappears in sync with his thrusts, growling in realization that it's his fucking cock that cause the bump in your belly. Gripping your waist, Jeno slams your pliant body to meet the snap of his hips, your breast jiggles and Jeno will be damned if he resists the urge to feast on them. God, he's fucking crazy for them.

''Oooh shit! You're so big and so hard inside me– ah ah ah– fuck! More! More, please–''

Jeno hums against your ear. ''More? Does my girl want more?''

Drunk in pleasure, you nod absentmindedly, nails raking down Jeno's back, creating red lines all over his skin. He slams a couple more times before taking a pity on the headboard that hits the wall due to your vigorous fucking. Jeno groans, scooping you in his arms, and pins you to the wall before hammering his cock inside you. Biting the junction of your neck, Jeno laps the red beads that seeps past your skin. The graze of teeth on your skin itches in pain yet you crave for more.

Wet skin slapping bounce in the room, wanton moans escapes you as Jeno snaps his hips fiercely.

''Oh, god!''

''Yeah?'' Jeno licks your tears. ''You like that? You love getting stuffed full of my big, fat cock, huh?''

Pulling you away from the wall, your eyes roll to the back as Jeno's length digs deeper inside you, so deep that you could feel it at the back of your throat. You cling to Jeno, drools dribbling down your chin as carnal ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body and mind. ''I'm coming..''

Grabbing your ass, Jeno bounces you to meet his thrusts, parting your cheeks to slide even deeper. ''Come on my cock, baby.''

Strained moan leaves your lips as Jeno sucks the pathway of your drool, feeling himself get closer to climax as your walls clenches continuously around him, painting his cock white. Jeno pistons his hips violently, eyes shut close. And when your hand encloses on his neck and tightens just the way it sends him an irreversible euphoria, Jeno holds on to his strength as he shoots strings of white, filling you up to the brim.

Breathing heavily, Jeno brings you back to the bed, fetching the towel to wipe down your mess before laying beside you, hugging you from the back. His loving kiss on your shoulder is the last thing that registers in your mind before drifting to a slumber.

As Jeno combs his fingers through your hair, a smile unknowingly appears on his face. You look so beautiful like this. So peaceful. Sure, you can certainly protect yourself but it still makes him want to gatekeep you from the harsh world so that you're out of harm's reach. 

Though, Jeno knows it is impossible. The constant pings from your phone is a reminder.

JIHO: Hi, baby. I just got home! 

JIHO: Mom asked for help to look for Jeno because she received a call from his work telling to pay for the damages or sorts.

JIHO: Sooo sorry I didn't send you a text!

JIHO: Are you gonna sleep now?

But as long as you don't stop him from having you, Jeno supposes he can ignore the fact. 

The fact that you will never be his. And the fact that you're in this loving, domestic relationship with his twin brother.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

YOO REQUESTS OPEN? can I get a Angela x reader celebrating Fourth of July??

Red, White, and You || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you and the rest of the smosh cast go to angela’s place to celebrate the fourth of july, angela makes sure you two get your own celebration

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none

a/n: i’m sorry i couldn’t resist making the title cheesy 🤭anyways, hey girl hey! i tried to get this to you asap + closer to fourth of july but life got in the way so here you go, better late than never ig? i also have no idea what angela’s place looks like so for the purpose of this fic she’s got a house with a pool bc i say so 💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “It’s a blender!”

     “It’s a unicycle!”

     “No, It’s clearly a cabbage patch doll.”

     You stared up at the darkening sky as you listened to the chatter of your friends and coworkers around you, watching them play ‘guess the cloud shape’.

     “They’re all wrong,” Angela leaned towards you. “It’s a bunny on a toilet.”

     You giggled, turning towards her as her eyes sparkled. 

     You and the rest of the Smosh cast had decided to celebrate the Fourth of July together and Angela had offered her place for the gathering.

     You looked around you at her backyard, admiring the layout—the table now filled with snacks and drinks, the small flames still visible in the fire pit, the calm surface of the empty pool, the red white and blue lights that had been strung over the perimeter. 

     Naturally, you’d been to her house many times, but you’d never actually been outside. Especially when it was so festively decorated. 

     You and Angela had started dating a few weeks ago, but you’d known her much longer, being her coworker and acquaintance long before you’d admitted your feelings for each other.

      Now, you turned to her as the rest of the party, spread out and laying back on the grass, was still focused on the clouds. 

     “It’s always a bunny on a toilet with you,” you teased.

     “Caught me.” She rolled her eyes at you as she twisted from her leaned-back position to kiss you.

     “Get a room!” Chanse called from his spot a few feet over, throwing popcorn at you and Angela.

     Angela picked up a piece and ate it, shrugging.

     “Hey!” She shouted back. “At least I have a date.”

     You would have chided Angela for being rude if you weren’t busy thinking what it would be like to get a room with Angela. 

     It wasn’t that you weren’t—and hadn’t been—enjoying the party and hanging out with everyone. But, as your eyes flicked to your girlfriend in her American flag print bikini top and baggy shorts you couldn’t help wishing it was just the two of you. You would start, you thought, by pointing to her adorable outfit and telling her to—

     “Take it off!” 

     Yeah, pretty much that. 

     You turned to Chanse who had spoken. His gaze was directed at Angela, who had his empty popcorn bucket on her head. 

     “It’s fashionable!” Angela defended, modeling her new hat. You rolled your eyes at her, smiling despite yourself.

     “Did someone say fashionable?” Ian turned around, joining the conversation as he gestured to his shirt.

     “That thing and fashionable don’t go in the same sentence, my guy,” Courtney patted his arm without turning around.

     “Anthony, back me up,” Ian said, tapping his best friend on the shoulder.

     “Peak fashion.” Anthony shot him a thumbs up, continuing his conversation with Arasha. 

     “Yeah, my grandpa has the same one,” Angela joked. “Creepy eagle and all.”

     Ian clutched his chest in mock offense as Amanda turned around from her spot in front of you and Angela. 

     “Angela, when did you say the fireworks were starting? I don’t want to stay out all night,” she said.

     “Dude, it’s 9:15,” Spencer said.

     “And I need my beauty sleep,” Amanda defended, flipping her hair.

     “Should be any minute now,” Angela told her. 

     “How did you get someone to do a firework show?” You asked Angela. 

     Angela turned back to you, laying a hand on your leg. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

     You trailed your fingers along her hand and then up her arm, tracing patterns on her bicep. 

     She smiled, her voice coming out breathy as she said, “Alright fine, I guess a magician can make exceptions.”

     You enjoyed having this effect on Angela—especially because you knew damn well she had the same effect on you—and you couldn’t help grinning to yourself as she continued.

     “Real talk, I didn’t set them up. Just have a pyro neighbor who lights like a million fireworks every year.”

     You chuckled. “Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

     Suddenly, laughter erupted from your friends in front of you. 

     “What?” Angela shouted. “What did I miss?”

     As you watched everyone cracking up and talking over each other—and Angela still trying to figure out the joke she hadn’t heard —you leaned back and took in a breath. It was mostly dark now, the stars visible and the clouds long gone.

     The fireworks started then. First only a few popping sound, and then the sky was alight with bursts of color.

     A cheer erupted before everyone became silent as you all began watching the show.

     Angela leaned back, closer to you, and you placed a kiss on her temple.

     She closed her eyes for a moment before snapping them open, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

     “I almost forgot,” she whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”

     You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

     She smiled, standing up quietly and holding a finger to her lips, motioning for you to be quiet.

     You looked at her expectantly as you stood, grabbing her hand. 

     Angela? Quiet?

     Your position with Angela behind the rest of your friends came in handy as she led you away from the group, no one noticing or even turning their head. 

    She led you through her house, both of you giggling in your efforts to stay silent—though for what only she knew—and up to the balcony that overlooked her backyard below.

    Opening the door, she stepped to the side and waited for you.

     You put your hand to your mouth in surprise. Her patio was transformed into what could only be described as a cozy hangout. Fairy lights wound around the wooden boards, bean bags and blankets covered the floor surface, and there was a mini fridge to one side, complete with drinks and an array of pies. 

     “Wow,” you took in the setup that Angela had prepared. “You did all this?”

     Angela smiled sheepishly at you. “Yeah, I wanted us to be able to have our own little celebration—if you want.”

     You beamed at her, nodding. Angela grabbed your hand and you let her lead you to the blankets in front of you. You sat down and Angela joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

     From here you could see everyone down below. You felt like you were in a separate world, observing everything from a distance.

     You leaned your head on Angela’s shoulder and watched the firework show, still bright and spectacular as ever. 

     This was perfect, you thought. The evening alone with Angela that you had been wanting.

     You brought your lips to hers. “Thank you, this is amazing.”

     “Anything for my little bunny on a toilet. Besides, I’ve been waiting to be alone with you all night.”

     You felt yourself blushing as she echoed your thoughts. “Yeah?”

     “Yeah.” She brought her lips to your neck. Your ear. Your jawline. And finally your lips.

     She pulled away and grinned at you, her voice rough. “You’re really sexy when you’re flustered.”

     “How do you know I’m flustered?” You shot back, but your voice betrayed you. 

     “Because I’m flustered,” she started. “So I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

     You scoffed but you nestled closer to her and she wrapped her arm even tighter around you. 

     “Happy fourth,” you whispered.

     “Happy fourth,” Angela said back.

     And then you were silenced by a particularly loud firework, the explosion lighting up the sky and illuminating Angela’s face next to you. 

      You could have asked for a better celebration, you thought, as you leaned in to kiss her once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this darlings!! always love writing for angela 🎀

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part VIII

Word count: 3700+

Warnings: mentions of tormenting, burning, swearing

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part VII | Part IX

"Tie her up to the chair."

Killian's cold voice bounced off the stone walls of dungeons. He hated this place. He felt like vomiting from the smell of urine, blood and death. He didn't have to come down here ever since his father died and how grateful he was for that. However, today he had a job to do here. Someone dared to try to kill a member of his family. It was unforgivable. He wouldn't let it go so easily and make the person pay for it.

He marched down the narrow hallway toward an open cell door. His eyes stopped at the door without grid at the end of the corridor, making the scars on his body itch. He couldn't even count how many days he spent locked there. Or his brothers.

He suppressed the urge to burn this place down and focused on the task at hand. Tied up in the chair sat a lesser faerie with brown skin that looked like fallen leaves, small horns on top of head and black bead eyes. These faeries were harmless and devoid of any significant magical powers. There was no need to use faebane on her.

She hissed at him to which he raised a brow. He had never seen her in the Forest House before. He stopped in front of her with his legs slightly apart and hands behind his back. He had a hard time to control himself. If he could, he would kill her right away and wouldn't waste time with tormenting her. Unfortunately, they needed all information she had because this had to be planned by someone else. Someone enough powerful to get her in.

"Let's start straight away, shall we. You answer my questions and you may live a day or two longer. If you don't answer, well.. I will have a lot of fun with you," he mused and allowed the fire in his veins to reach his eyes, playing with small flames between his long fingers.

Faerie spat on the floor too close to his shoes for his liking. "I won't tell you anything," she laughed.

"Yes, you will," he smirked, pushing off of the wall and stepping closer. Female in the chair frowned in concentration. Before he could put even a finger on her, she flared up like a torch with ear-splitting roar.

Killian tried to put out the fire, but this flames didn't obey him at all. He watched helplessly as she turned into a pile of ashes in a matter of seconds. What the fuck was that?

One of the guards came running with a bucket of water.

"It's too late, idiot," Killian grunted turning to the exit. "Clean it up."

The acrid smell of burnt flesh followed him long after he left the dungeons.

Waking up was like trying to get through too thick layer of ice. At least you finally could breathe even though your throat was sore, the sharp pain shooting in all directions every time you swallowed. You were shivering with terrible cold so much your teeth chattered.

"It's okay. I'm here," a deep voice spoke lowly as a warm, big hand squeezed yours, the other one gently landed on your forehead. The warmth spread to your body in a second. It felt so good that you moaned.

Your eyelids fluttered as you pushed them open. At first you saw nothing but light and shadows dancing around. As things came into focus you recognized your room and Eris leaning over you.

His red hair were messy as if he ran his hands through them at least hundred times, dark circles under worried eyes. He was still wearing the same clothes as at the party, now splashed with droplets of blood.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," he smiled kindly at you. "How do you feel?"

You blinked. How did you feel? You took a moment to check up with your body. You were tired, limbs heavy, but otherwise you were fine.

"I'm just little bit cold," you rasped and frowned.

"It's okay. Your throat will be sensitive for a while. The cold will eventually disappear, too." He helped you to sit up and put the mug with tea to your lips. You took a sip, the hot liquid warmed you from inside.

"What happened to me?"

Eris's features hardened, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes flared up with anger so fierce you jerked.

"Someone tried to poison you," he said after he got his anger under the control.

Everything even your mind silenced for a moment. "Why?"

He shrugged and putting the mug down he looked to the side to the window. "That bitch killed herself before Killian got a single word out of her."

You swallowed heavily and frowned in pain.

"But don't worry. We checked all the staff in the castle and tightened security. It will not happen again."

He cleared his throat and turned back to you. He gave you a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. His hand again found yours as if he needed a physical reminder that you were still alive.

"Lay down. You need to rest. I'll stay here with you."

"I'm sorry.." Your lower lip quivered.

"What?" he looked at you confused.

"I'm so sorry. I ruined the party you prepared-"

He silenced you with one long finger pressed to your lips. "Don't. Don't ever say anything like that. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. I should have taken better care of you. If I hadn't momentarily lost you in a crowd, it wouldn't have happened. I'm the only one to be blamed for this outcome."

You shook your head, silver lining your eyes. He took a deep breathe and straightened.

"Let's change topic to something less.. traumatic," he smiled cheerfully and again it didn't reach his eyes. "You didn't even have a chance to open your present. Do you want to do it now?"

You sobbed quietly, but nodded anyway. Eris stood up, went to your vanity and took the small box. Mattress dipped down as he sat on its edge and handed you the present. His hand slightly trembled.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he muttered sadly and kissed the crown of your head.

With trembling fingers you untied the ribbon and opened it. On red velvet pillow rested a necklace with silver pendant of crescent moon with a star in the middle. In the center of the star a stone in the same colour as Eris's eyes flashed in the light. You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks. I've never got a present yet something so beautiful.

"I saw you watching the night sky and wanted to give you something that would represent your home Court because you brought nothing with you from there. At least nothing nice."

"It's also a reminder of the place my.. happiness is coming from," he added almost inaudibly.

"It's beautiful," you sobbed and reached up for him. He hesitated for a moment, but then leaned in, allowing you to pull him down into a hug. As his head rested over your heart, he let out a contented sigh, squeezing you so firmly it almost hurt. "Thank you. It's the most beautiful gift I've ever got."

"No.. Thank you for staying here.. with me."

After that Eris urged you to take rest and you managed to persuade him to lay down, too, and rest with you.

Even with your fast healing it took a few days until you stopped shivering and were able to stand up from bed. Eris spent most of the time with you as your personal heater, but he couldn't postpone his High Lord duties for too long. When he had to leave, his place took Killian who seemed to feel miserable for what happened to you. It took you three hours to convince him to let it go and his trademark grin finally returned.

Except of the two of them only a healer was allowed to enter your chambers and you dearly missed Irene and Ellen who personally overlooked preparations of every your meal and brought it to you, leaving it in the sitting room.

When you grew enough strong to stand on your own, Eris and Killian returned to their duties and your dear friends were allowed to again take care of you. Their gloomy, worried expressions turned into tears of relief as soon as they stepped into your room. They ran to you and hugging you, swore to never leave your side again.

However after your close encounter with the death, something changed in you and you started to look for ways to get some time alone. Though it was quite a challenge. Eris really didn't lie about the tighter security. Irene and Ellen were practically glued to your side most of the day and guards stood even in the hallways and gardens now.

It was hard to escape them, but years spent in the shadows of Hewn City taught you how to stay unseen and unheard.

When you managed to get away, you looked for remote corners of extensive gardens and grounds around the castle. Grateful for moments spent in silence, you just wandered aimlessly around in the brisk air and enjoyed the bright colours of autumn.

Once you found a hidden path on the edge of the forest that seemingly led to the hills behind the castle. After following it for a while you got to ruins of something that at first glance looked like a temple. Fallen pillars and pieces of sandstone covered with moss and greenery lay scattered on the ground around, remains of marble statues peak from undergrowth. Without thinking about the possible dangers you wandered through the ruins, wondering to what god or goddess this temple used to be dedicated to. Your kind had excessively long lives, yet no one remembered the names of gods your ancestors worshipped. Maybe you could try to look for some information in the library when you would return back.

It was fascinating to watch falling leaves dancing through rays of light at this historic site. It filled your heart with similarly warm feeling you felt every time Eris was around. You stretched out your arms and danced with them, feeling light and laughing merrily for the first time since you were poisoned. You were so enchanted by looking up at that magical beauty that you hadn't even noticed you were surrounded.

A low growl caused your steps faltered and made you look down. A dog like creature blocked your way, showing off its sharp canines. You tried to carefully back out with raised hands, hoping it would let you go when you heard a snarl coming from behind you. You slowly looked over your shoulder just to find another few of them behind you.

You were surrounded by twelve of gray and sleek like smoke hounds that growled and slowly crept toward you enclosing the circle. There was no place you could escape to or climbed at. With racing heart you were counting your last moments in this world when a sound of whistle bounced off the stones. The hounds with pricked ears stilled and then barking dashed running toward the sound.

Relieved they were gone, you fell on your knees and covered your face with trembling hands. "Thank the Mother," you breathed out shakily in a tiny voice.

"Did you miss me, guys? Hm? Did you miss me?" A males voice spoke to them in baby talk.

Your face snapped up in shock. Your eyes met with Eris's and for a moment you gaped at each other. His face turned bright red like a tomato and he pinched the root of his nose, groaning.

"You.. heard it, didn't you."

"I think.. yes, I did."

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. "There.. nobody comes up here. Usually."

"They are yours?" You pointed to the scary creatures.

The hounds were jumping at him like overexcited puppies, asking for his attention.

"Well, yes, they are my smokehounds. This place is enchanted so no one can get to them. How did you break through?" He looked behind you. "And where are your maids? They should keep an eye on you, you know."

"I-I ran away," your shoulders slumped.

He came closer and sat down next you, bumping his shoulder lightly to yours while hounds gave you a questioning look.

"Something happened?" he asked kindly.

"No, not at all. They are great and I like them so much. I just.. sometimes I need a moment or two for myself."

He sighed heavily.

"I understand that, but I'll have to check the security nonetheless. At least guards should know-"

"It isn't their fault," you quickly said, looking at him, panicking that you caused problems for those people. "They are doing their jobs conscientiously."

"Well, apparently not when you manage to sneak out so easily," he raised a brow, amused. He wouldn't hurt them, that was clear.

You bit on your lower lip. "They are quite scary, aren't they," you tried to change topic and to your surprise it worked.

"They are the best hounds in Prythian, of course, they are scary."

"I've never heard about them," you admitted.

"How could you?" Eris snorted. "They are so highly prized that it's forbidden to give or sold them beyond the borders."

"Why? What's so special about them? Except of being scary."

"They are magical," he teased you and again lightly bumped your shoulder. You laughed with him. "That wasn't joke though. They have their own magic. They are extremely fast and can sniff out their prey no matter where it hides. Even on the other side of Prythian. They are beautiful creatures, don't you think?"

You weren't sure what to say. They really were nice hounds and their reaction to Eris was cute, but their strange eyes and the intelligence in them gave you chills. If Eris didn't appear so suddenly, they wouldn't hesitate to kill you.

"Do you want to meet them?"

You breathed in sharply. "I-.."

"Come! They won't hurt you, I promise." He helped you to stand up. Playful flames danced in his amber eyes as he took your hand and gently squeezed it, smiling like a small boy who was about to show you his biggest treasure.

Eris took out small silver whistle from his pocket and whistled long tone. The hounds lined up and sitting down waited for next command.

"See? I trained them myself. This is Egon," he started with the closest hound. "He comes from a bloodline that our family owns for generations. Birdie loves birds, preferably for lunch. Pilot usually takes the lead and Kama loves snuggles. She is like a mother of the whole pack. Ivory has the smoothest fur. Badger is a brawler and causes the most of the troubles. Takeo here is a real warrior. He once even engaged in fight with naga. Saved my ass, honestly. I was still too young and stupid back then. Greystone is.. simply Greystone. Ketch loves to play fetch. Lightening is the fastest of them. Patience is obviously the most patient one and Scotch ends any fight Badger starts."

Eris named hounds one by one, scratching every hound between ears as he introduced them. He was completely relaxed, unguarded. You'd never thought that grown male over 500 could be so carefree, boyish and playful. You tried to pay attention to his words, but his expression captivated you and in the end you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"Good guys," he praised them and took out a bag of dog treats, giving one to each of the hounds.

"And now listen carefully." The hounds stilled, all eyes on him. "This is my wife, Y/N. You must not hurt her. Do you hear me? She is important." The hounds eyed you for a moment and sniffed the air. Then they barked once as if in agreement. You had to scoff at the absurdity of this dog's army. If you hadn't witnessed it, you wouldn't believe something like this is possible.

Eris laughed out at your reaction. Then as if he got some exciting idea, his lips twisted into wolfish grin. "Do you want to touch them?"

"I'm not sure..," you stuttered and took a step back, but his hand didn't allow you to get too far.

"It's fine. Kama, come here." One of the hounds separated from the pack and came closer, panting.

"Go on," Eris challenged you.

You couldn't and didn't want to tell him no. Slowly you crouched down until you were on a same eye-level with the strange creature. Hound's icy coloured eyes watched you, calculating. It was nerve wrecking. You slowly reached out but didn't touch her yet. The hound called Kama sniffed your fingers curiously and then snuggled to your hand. You hesitantly petted her. Kama stepped closer resting head on your skirt. Before you knew, you were surrounded by twelve hounds that pushed and snarled at each other just to get scratched between ears by you. You giggled petting as many heads as you could reach in that chaos.

Eris was watching you with an affection and a wide smile on his lips. He seemed to be mesmerized by the picture of you surrounded by his pets. After a while he searched his pockets and took out old looking ball. The hounds were immediately at his legs, jumping up to get to the ball. He threw it into the ruins and they dashed after it.

"I always have one with me just in case," he blushed. He took a step towards the ruins and you followed him.

"What is this place?"

Eris shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it looks like temple, don't you think? I found it by accident when I got lost as a child. Ever since then, I like to come here when I need to think or just to be alone. That's why I keep my hounds here, too."

"It's magical."

Eris just nodded. "I started to feel some kind of ancient energy here when I got older. I guess that's what attracts me to this place so much. But since I've became a High Lord, I feel that energy even more intensively. It literally pulses through the ground under our feet. I wish you could feel it, too. It's like..," he shook his head and sighed. "There aren't words that could describe that feeling."

You could feel the magic that he spoke about. You didn't know if it was the exactly same thing as he felt, but it was like walking in a stream of fresh mountain water. It flowed through ground and the remaining stone, vibrating and pulling you deeper to the ruins. Hand in hand you followed it, occasionally disturbed by the hounds with their ball.

You took turns throwing the ball to them, wandering through the ruins. Words weren't important. It was pleasantly spent time and exactly what you needed the most. Eris wasn't trying to pull you to conversation, seemingly enjoying the silence and your company as much as you did. As sun started to set to the horizont he sighed heavily.

"We should head back. It's getting late."

He apparently didn't want to go back nor did you. You loved to spend time with him in general, but this afternoon was even more precious to you. Eris was himself here. No masks, no pretending, no holding back. You could see his real self and hated the idea it should be again hidden somewhere where you couldn't even catch a glimpse of it. You wished this moment would never end.

Maybe that was the reason why you dared to step to him and embrace him, resting your face on his chest. He stiffened, even his heart fell out of its rhythm. But when he finally moved, his arms squeezed you so firmly you couldn't move even if you wanted to. His head fell forward, resting on top of yours. As if it was meant to be like this all the time, it felt so right that it drew a moan from the both of you in the same moment. His fingers entwined with your hair, holding your head from behind and tugging you even closer. Meanwhile your hand rubbed up and down his back in a lazy circles.

When you at last pulled away enough to look into each other's eyes, he breathed in shakily.

"There's something I-," his mouth moved without a sound. It seemed that he desperately needed to tell you whatever he had on tip of his tongue, but instead he only pressed his lips together, jaw tightening and shook his head. "No, that's nothing."

"What is it?" You pressed him, wanting to hear it. He only shook his head again.

"Maybe some other time."

His lips pulled into a sad smile. Taking your hand he led you down the secret path to the gardens. Near the closest castle gates he halted, remembering something important and turned to you. He was about to speak when a servant dashed from the castle, running to you.

"Your Lordship, I'm so sorry to disturb you, but they are looking for you. It's urgent." He came closer and whispered something to Eris who frowned.

"My apologies, but I have to go now. Go straight inside, no more walks today." And he was gone. Sighing you followed after him and went looking for your maids.

The very next day in the morning Irene and Ellen burst into Eris's office, the tears staining their faces.

"My Lord! She is gone," they sobbed.

"What? Who?" frowning he looked up from the documents, confused.

"Y/N! We went out for a walk as every morning."

"We just stopped to pick up some of her favourite flowers for bouquet to her room and she was gone. We looked everywhere, but no one seems to catch even glimpse of her." They cried one over the other.

Pale Eris was at once on his legs, hand already on handle. "Show me where it happened! Quickly!"

On the way out he almost knocked down Killian who was about to open the doors. The papers he held flew into the air, floating to the ground all around them, but nobody cared about it at the moment.

"Y/N is gone! I want every man out looking for her," he shouted at surprised Killian and dashed off with maids at his heels.