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astraystayyh · 1 year

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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.

Bonus

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

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nymphoniah · 24 days

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thinking about old man logan all tired, but you’re so needy that you take matters into your own hands…

you find logan resting in his office, seated on his leather arm chair. white button up messily undone, revealing his worn out beater underneath. his chest hair peeking through the shallow neckline of the shirt, leaving your mind to wonder about.

you couldn’t help but approach him. curling up in logan’s lap, your head resting against his broad chest. your fingers gently rubbing against his ribbed tank top that fits snug against him. his body isn’t what it once was before, but he still remains defined and muscular.

logan’s salt-and-pepper beard tickling your rose tinted cheeks as you litter his face in kisses. you can’t help but take in his beauty, he absolutely aged like wine.

moving your fingers from his chest to the shell of his ears, you swiftly remove his glasses from his face. you press your lips gently against the crow’s feet that defined his tired eyes, making him crack a tiny smile.

“you’re so handsome, logan.” you sigh, placing his glasses onto the side table placed on his right. you rest your head back on his chest, taking a deep sigh. the scent of his cologne floods your senses, bourbon and vanilla.

nsfw below <3

you shift around, straddling yourself onto his left thigh. your legs wrapped ‘round him like a vice whilst your core pulses for attention against his tense quad.

“looks like someone’s needy,” he hums out, placing his hands on your hips, gently guiding you back and forth against him. “cmon baby, take it out on me.” you gently rock your hips, keeping a slow and steady pace.

with age, he’s lost his stamina for sure, but he always has the energy for you. making sure that you get off, anytime and anywhere. you’re his princess, and he makes sure to spoil you.

your hips rock in tandem against his thigh as he rhythmically bounces his leg to match your pace. you mewl in pleasure, tilting your head back as ecstasy fills your mind.

logan places gentle, sloppy kisses against your neck, making sure to pay close attention to your pulse point. he’s nipping at the soft skin of your neck, concentrating on one area enough to leave a maroon bruise the next day.

both of your movements become more erratic. as your pace quickens, his hands move to your chest, groping your breasts, thumbs nimbly working at your buds, rolling and gently tugging on them.

you hiss out in pleasure, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. “so close…” you whimper, biting your bottom lip tightly to alleviate the growing tension in your stomach.

“let it out bub, i know you can do it for me,” he grunts into your neck, his hands finding their way back to your hips, pushing you harder down onto him.

absolutely soaking through your panties, you can feel the patch of wetness you left on his light washed denim jeans. you’re faltering on the edge, not wanting to let yourself go so soon.

“you want this princess, let go for your daddy,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, and you finally tick.

you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, your pants becoming more and more exhausted. your hips thrust forward and hard around him one last time, and the knot in your stomach finally snaps.

“f-fuck logan, fuck!” you whine, your combined moans filling his office.

you gently pull away from him, pressing your forehead against his, your lust blown pupils meeting his stern gaze.

“yknow how to rile me up,” he says cheekily, gently molding your ass between his fingertips. “almost got me to come in my pants like a teenager,” logan snarkily adds.

“shut it old man,” you quipped, taking his glasses from the side table and placing them back on him so that they sit on the edge of his nose bridge. you press a quick kiss to his lips which soon formed into a smirk.

“let me show you what this old man can do…” he murmurs against your lips.

#dilf logan save me… save me dilf logan #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #x men 97 #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #i need dilf logan in my life rn #hugh jackman #deadpool

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megistusdiary · 7 months

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omg regarding your hybrid women post; i had the thought of reader being a hybrid too, so both parties also get in heat 🥰🥰

what ifーfox!reader and arctic fox!arle (youre probably tired of writing for arle LMAO) where reader gets in heat and tries to fuck with arle so shes like all teasing and degrading and shit 😅😅

that's what i like to see 😌

tbh i'm winning rn because my friends just told me how much i remind them of a fox today. basically, that means we belong together 😻😻 delusion is the solution

also, we never get tired of arle. i know this ask was from a few days ago, but since drip marketing was released, we are all UP!

fox!transfem arlecchino x fox!fem reader

dom!transfem fox-hybrid arle x sub!fem fox-hybrid reader

warnings: smut (mdni), transfem arle, wlw content, fox hybrids, fingering, penetration, mentions of heat/knotting, breeding kink

you had to admit, your lover's hands were one of your favorite parts of her. yes, her mind was beautiful, and so was her soul. but her hands were gorgeous.

clawed, as yours were, but hers were much more elegant. despite being quite large, her hands were rather dextrous.

her fingers were long and pretty. well-suited to wielding blades, playing the piano, holding a wine glass elegantly.

oh, and for stretching you out, obviously.

the way her fingers press deeper into you has your mind reeling. your brain is fuzzy already from hormones, and her touches send you into overdrive.

she can hear your claws tearing at her bedsheets, hips grinding into her hand. she uses her free hand to dig her claws into your hip, stilling you.

"someone's desperate," she comments softly, causing you to whine at her, unable to form any biting retorts. she tuts, fucking you faster with her fingers, eyes trained on the way you sucked her fingers in so well.

you were beyond drenched, slick dripping down her hand and ruining her expensive silk bedsheets. your ears were pinned back against your head, face pressed down into the bedsheets as you presented yourself to her on all fours.

she was entranced by how your hips and back arched so perfectly for her. oh, how enticing you were. just for her...

you kick your feet into the bedsheets, mumbling little pleas for her to fuck you. she leans down, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"you want my cock?" she asks, and you deliciously respond with pathetic little mewls. "shouldn't you feel ashamed at how you're behaving?" she sighs.

she nips at your neck, tutting. "look at you, ruining my sheets with how desperate you are. listen to yourself." she presses her fingers in shallowly, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being pushed in and out.

she can feel the heat radiating off your neck as your ears flick wildly, tail hitting her side as it wiggles. she moves her hand to grip the base of your tail, biting the inside of her cheek when it causes you to cum all over her fingers.

she enjoys the mindless babbles that come along with your orgasms during your heat, how you destroy her sheets. it's all too intoxicating. she inhales the pheromones from the air, groaning as her cock strains against her pants.

the hand on your tail slides to cup over her bulge, her head falling back as you turn around, her fingers slipping out as you lean down, unzipping her pants.

once you remove her pants, her cock bobs up, allowing you to press a kiss to the sticky tip. she grunts, taking the base and smearing it across your lips to see them go glossy. "well aren't you just an eager little whore? i didn't tell you to turn around, did i?"

you quickly adjust yourself, tail swaying behind you excitedly as she grabs it, moving it away from your pussy as her cock swipes up and down your folds.

"you're going to take it all like a good girl, won't you?"

"yes, yes, please!" your voice is pathetic and whiny as she lines her cock up with your hole.

she slides in slowly, letting you feel her stretch you open as you pant into the silk beneath you. her grunts are little melodies of their own, clawed hands gripping your hips tightly as she eases her thick cock in and out of you.

her pace increases to the point where she's practically slamming you against the bed, your scent having triggered her own rut as she fucks like her life depends on it.

"you're going to have my fucking kits. i'll fill you up, doll. you're mine." she snaps, hips bruising yours as your slick coats her base with a creamy ring. her tail swings rapidly, ears flat against her head.

once she feels you cum around her, tightening up, she allows the inflated base of her cock to press into you, using the delirium from your orgasm to stretch you beyond your limits.

you whimper and whine beneath her as she cums inside of you, plugging you up with her knot.

despite the rough treatment, she soothes you quietly, leaning over you and pulling you to lay with her on your sides, kissing your cheek as she shallowly fucks you with the limited movement allowed by her knot.

888 notes · View notes

osachiyo · 11 months

Text

✦ "open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you." + n. chuuya ✦

✧ pairing ૪ chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

✧ content warnings ૪ nsfw content (mdni), brat!reader, sex toys (vibrator), tit slapping, like one spank, petnames, degradation, humiliation, office sex etc

✧ word.count ૪ 1.2k+

⇆﹒event details & m.list

"name-san, are you okay?" tachihara asked, brows furrowed in worry as you squirmed in your seat, looking distressed. "h-huh? oh− I'm.. fine," you somehow squeaked out, the vibrations between your legs unbelievably distracting. you shouldn't have acted out like that to chuuya, who was now having a whole lot of fun tormenting you in front of your co-workers. tachihara shared a concerned look with gin, "if you say so.." you nodded, trying your best to not look weird. unfortunately for you, though, you had to give an important report to your boss, mori. today. how in the fuck could you forget?

"t-that's all, boss," you stuttered, earning a raised brow from the doctor. "alright, you may leave now," he sighed, brows slightly furrowed and you hoped he didn't know what was going on− praying to god that he didn't notice the slick running down your thighs, forming wet splotches on your tights. walking out of his office, you finally felt like you could breathe− thighs trembling as the vibrations increased, was he trying to get you killed? you were about to take a step before someone grabbed you by your wrist, chuuya. yelping and letting yourself be dragged by him, you could see the cocky smirk on his handsome face− you wanted to slap it off his face so bad. he took you to his office before slamming the door shut, locking it with a click, "so? how're you holding off, baby?" he teased, snickering at the little pout sitting on your pretty lips, " 's not funny, chuuya!" you stomped your foot, making him smirk and hook a thumb under your chin, rubbing it gently, "oh yeah? was I too mean, sweet girl?" he mocked, tone dropping an octave to let you know he was still pissed off about your stunt last night. what were you thinking edging him for that long? "now...." he hummed, shoving all of the paperwork off his desk before pushing you towards it, the corners of the table digging into your behind, "why don't you show me how much of a mess you've made, doll?" he rasped, gloved hands massaging your soft hips. "open your legs f'me, baby. wanna see you," he groaned, large hands pushing your knees apart to gaze at the damp spot on your mesh black tights. he could practically smell your arousal and it had him salivating like a dog− you gasped as rough hands ripped a hole through your tights, cute lacy panties peaking through and he snapped.

he didn't even bother taking your clothes off− just ripping your tights further before pushing your panties to the side, rubbing your clit up and down, two gloved fingers slipping inside of you to reach for the vibrator, smirking when his fingers brush against it before pulling it out and chucking it to the side. chuuya shoved his fingers back into you, and you could feel your hips bucking, thighs about to close when his unoccupied hand cracks against your thigh, effectively keeping your legs open for him. he pulled his fingers out of your cunt once he deemed you're wet enough, sticking the soaked digits in his mouth and lapping your arousal up, groaning at the taste. "such a sweet fuckin' pussy, yeah? could just eat you the fuck up," chuuya growled, flipping you over so that your stomach pressed against the table now, perky ass facing him and he licked his lips. "you don't deserve it though, do you? fuckin' brat," he spat, fingers digging into your cheeks to spread them apart, slotting his bulge in between. you whined, feeling his hot breath against the shell of your ear, rough hands now gripping your hips as he slowly grinded into your ass. "nuh uh, wouldn't be such a mm!− brat if you paid more attention to me−!" you got cut off by a loud 'smack!' ringing through the office, a cry escaping your lips at the harsh sting on your ass. "shut up." he scoffed, ripping apart your panties and unzipping his slacks. a shaky breath left his parted lips as he rubbed the tip of his flushed cock on your slit, slapping it against your clit a few times before sinking into your gooey hole. your breaths grew laboured, perfectly manicured nails digging into the polished gabon ebony of his desk, leaving small indents on it. "yeaahh, good girl−" his forehead rested on your shoulder, "such a good fuckin' girl when you stop yappin' like a bitch, huh?" you could basically hear the cocky smirk in his strained voice, a gasp leaving his throat as you purposely clamped around him. his hand wrapped around your throat, putting enough pressure to leave you dizzy as he growls into your ear, "behave, brat." a smirk tugged on your shiny lips, taking pride in rendering a port mafia executive into a growling and grunting mess. it made you feel powerful, in a way.

but that smirk didn't last for long, as he reached for the vibrator again, an evil laugh leaving him at the wide-eyed look on your pretty face. "oh don't give me that look, baby. promise this'll feel sooo fucking good, okay?" he grinned, turning the vibrator on before reaching down and holding it down to your clit, hissing out a curse when you clench around him even more, back bent to a perfect arch and god did you look sexy. his hips finally started thursting, balls clapping against the plush of your ass as you tried your best to not fall on the desk− though it was getting harder by the moment.

your tits bounced every time he thrusted into you, the obscene sound of skin against skin filling the room, making you hope no one passes by chuuya's office right now− fuck, that would be embarrassing. the vibrations suddenly went up, abruptly cutting off your train of thoughts, while his hand that was previously on your throat moves to your bouncing tits instead, ripping the buttons before squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. he loved the way your tits basically spilled out of his hands, a whine escaping your throat when he slapped them around while chuckling cruelly. "what happened to that smartass mouth of yer's, huh?" each word was punctuated with a brutal slam of his narrow hips, fat cock hitting all the right spots inside your walls. the hand cupping your tit slapped it punishingly, tears starting to form on your glazed over eyes.

"dumb fuckin' slut just needed some good cock to fill her up? that right, baby? y-yeeaah−" he whined, thrusts growing erratic as he presses the vibrator on your clit harder, snapping the scorching hot rope of pleasure inside your tummy and you gushed− squirting all over his hand, cock and desk, mouth forming an 'o' shape as all thoughts but chuuya left your mind− the unbelievable pleasure dumbing you down to a shaking, moaning mess.

chuuya whined shamelessly, throwing the vibrator somewhere before slamming you down on the desk, his hand pressing down on the dip of your back to create a perfect arch for him and that was his last straw before pulling out− stroking himself desperately to search for his release. he came with a grunt a few moments after, spurting his seed all over your ass− some even landing on your pussylips, coating them with a milky sheen.

the only thing going through your head right now was− you needed to do this again.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch @chuuya-brainrot

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lixiesfreckless · 7 months

Text

Into It | b. c.

➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.

➸ starring: bang chan x female reader

➸ word count: 3k

➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk

➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-

♫ into it- chase atlantic

Far away.

You feel like your mind is so far away.

The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle.

Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot.

This is as close as you can get to bliss.

Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?

The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.

“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.

The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.

“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.

“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.

“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.

You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.

But how could you not when he was so…Chan?

He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.

And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.

And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.

“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.

“Nope. Just need to stretch.”

You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.

This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.

And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.

Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you.

It might just be the alcohol though.

You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-

“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.

“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”

“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”

“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”

Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth.

“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.

…What?

The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.

“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.

“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”

Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.

“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.

You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.

“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”

“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.

And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.

If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.

“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.

He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure.

He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.

How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation?

Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.

“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.

“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”

He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.

“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.

He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.

His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.

You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.

Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”

He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.

He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.

Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.

“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.

The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.

There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.

But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.

The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.

His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.

And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.

You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.

“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”

You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.

Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.

Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.

The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.

“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you.

“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.

Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.

“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.

The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer.

But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.

He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.

He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.

“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”

“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”

“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him.

He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.

“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”

796 notes · View notes

ilypaigebuckets · 5 months

Text

I Hate it Here

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: based off of the tiktok trend from taylor swift’s new album ttpd. in which paige sees the tiktok you made about her.

also posting on my other acc! @kenzlovesyou

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

paige returned home from practice to find you asleep in your shared room. she was sweaty and tired but the sight of you looking so precious made her face soften. she noticed you had a tendency to do that; make her soft.

paige put her bag down and walked up to you, kissing your forehead. “hey y/n, baby. i’m back,” her tone was sweet as she shook you awake, “i’m home!”. you groaned a bit as your eyes fluttered awake. “paigeyyy” you said, still half asleep as your arms reached to hug her. she smiled and reached down to hug you. you nuzzled into her neck, you’d missed her a little extra today. she stood up fully and you got out of your bed, hugging her tightly once again. “babe i’m sweaty. let me shower, then we’ll spend some time ok?” she lightly unhooked your arms from around your neck and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. you sighed, already missing her touch.

you decided to go on to couch and watch a show while you waited for paige to finish showering. after finally settling on a show you spaced out into it, watching intently. paige finally finished showering and came out of the bathroom onto the couch with you. she saw the show you chose and wasn’t particularly interested, but still wanted to spend time with you. you laid your head on her shoulder and snuggled close to her. she looked down at your precious head and kissed the top of it.

she decided to scroll on tiktok while you watched your show. she scrolled past videos on her for you page, not finding anything entertaining enough to like but not boring enough to scroll past without watching. she then switched to her following feed. she watched the dancing video she and kk had made earlier in the day, before practice and laughed to herself. then she stumbled upon your account. you weren’t too active on social media, so it was always a treat for her to view something you’d posted. it was one of those slideshow tiktoks, with a new song from Taylor Swift playing in the background. the first picture was a cute picture of you azzi had taken of you with your hood on your heading, looking grumpywith the words “i hate it here so i will go to”.

paige quickly realized what trend you were participating in and was excited to see what you thought your “secret garden” was. she assumed it would be Uconn, as you’d mentioned how happy going to school here had made you and how it’d brought you out of your shell. she slid to the next photo. “secret gardens in my mind” she read and saw a mirror picture of the two of you. nobody else. just her. she was your secret garden. she mattered most to you. she felt like tearing up. she’d never meant this much to someone. even though it was just a tiktok trend, she was overcome with emotion. “baby?” she looked over at you.

“hm?” you hummed over at her, still immersed in your show.

“hey, welcome back to the real world. i saw the tiktok you made about me. i love you so much. ” she lifted her arm up and put it around you.

“you like it?? it’s not too annoyingly coupley and cringey?” you asked.

“no, y/n. it’s perfect. i wish i could be with you all the time. i love spending time with you.”

you looked at her and smirked. she wasn’t this soft when she first met you. you’d changed her.

“going soft on me, bueckers?”

“OK MOMENT RUINED” she jokingly pushed you off her even though she knew she’d be holding you again not even 2 minutes later.

my first one shot 🥳🥳 ik it’s short but i felt like writing something!! feel free to send in fic requests, dialogue prompts, song lyric prompts, etc! hope you guys like this, ik im not the best writer but i just like to do it for fun!! have a great day/night <3 :)

#paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers #wlw post #wlw love #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #Spotify

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aaagustd · 10 days

Text

freaky friday | myg (m)

title: freaky friday pairing: min yoongi x f!reader genre/rating: smut, horror, f*ckbuddies, friday the 13th au; 18+ summary: they were right to be afraid. wc: 2.6k warnings: m*rder, mild description of d*ad bodies, blood, weapon play, outdoor s*x, mentions alcohol, slight power play dynamics, ch*king, multiple org*sms, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, a bit of dark humor, i think that's all...will update later. can be triggering so please proceed with caution. release date: september 13th, 2024

note: hi! i'm back lol. had some downtime so I whipped this up. slightly edited but this was just a quick drabble i wrote. mask credit.

September 13th, 2024

Snap.

You stop in your tracks so another twig doesn’t crack beneath your feet. The forest becomes eerily quiet as you await your fate. After seconds of standing somewhere within the forest surrounding Camp Crystal Lake, you unclench your fists and cautiously tiptoe to the nearest tree.

Relief washes over you but doesn’t erase the fear pumping through your veins. You’re not safe until you reach the lake so there’s no time to celebrate a victory this small.

“Clap!”

Fuck.

You hear one of the seekers call out in the distance, and abiding by the rules, you clap your hands once to pinpoint your location. The caller is far from your area, but that doesn’t mean another isn’t nearby.

You brace yourself as you hear the sticks being crushed by someone’s footsteps behind the tree that shields you and you brace yourself for the jump scare that comes with being discovered.

Holding your breath, you close your eyes and wait—but the moment never arrives. Sighing, you turn slowly to scope out your surroundings.

The moon provides enough light to see what’s in front of you, but the night is gloomy and does an excellent job of concealing you in the darkness.

Camp Crystal Lake has always been a popular summer camp location. You and your friends have run through these woods more times than you can count. Now as counselors, you still haven’t grown up entirely.

This place brings out the kid in you, but like quite a few attractions, it comes with a dark history.

The story of the boy who drowned in the lake has always been the camp’s employees' favorite spooky bedtime story. It’s a way to get the kids to bed early so that the adults can have some fun. Although it’s just a scary story, you can’t help but feel like there’s some truth to it.

You can never really shake the feeling of being watched, but you won’t let your paranoia ruin your last night of fun. Camp ends tomorrow, and then it’s back to long nights of studying for you. Hopefully, you can snag a victory this time around and have some bragging rights for next time.

After looking in every direction twice, you take the first step. Looking around you again, you don’t see or hear any sign of movement. So, you make a run for it.

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast. You cover over half the distance within a minute. You nearly slip and burst your ass when the ground becomes steeper.

“Better slow down,” you tell yourself.

You wouldn’t want to slide right into the lake. You’d be covered in mud by the time you climb out.

Before you continue, you look around to make sure you haven’t been spotted, and this time—you aren’t so lucky.

“Oh, shit.”

Your heart drops when you see the figure standing no more than 15 to 20 feet away from you. You’re frozen because you know you’ve been caught, but what you can’t determine is by who.

After they’ve moved closer, you can make out the white mask and clothing.

It’s Yoongi.

None of you know him too well. This is his first summer working here. You’ve heard stories about him but to you, he’s just a guy trying to make some extra cash. You don’t think he knows any more about this place than the rest of you. The kids have already given him every scary name they could think of, and that’s mainly because he doesn’t talk much and sticks to himself. It took you weeks to get him out of his shell, and he’s been fucking your brains out ever since.

“You still have that on?”

Like you, Yoongi pulled the short straw and they made him wear a hockey mask to scare the kids. You thought he went to bed after his little show, but maybe he couldn’t resist the opportunity to fuck with everyone.

He doesn’t reply or answer the question. Instead, he continues to make his way towards you.

“Yoongi?”

Still, nothing comes out of his mouth and worry starts to build in your gut. You almost make a run for the campgrounds, but then he decides to speak up.

“Damn, you look scared.”

If you had a rock, you’d probably throw it at him. “Why would you do that?”

Yoongi laughs and lifts the mask. His skin seems to glow underneath the moonlight, fueling your attraction. His hair is pushed away from his face, giving you a full few of his forehead and slit eyebrows.

“I was about to kill you, but I changed my mind,” he shrugs.

Your mouth falls open.

“You would not!”

You smack his chest as he snakes a hand around your waist. The other clutches his prop—a machete he probably got from Party City.

“Maybe I won’t,” he replies. “It depends, really.”

“On?”

Another shrug of his shoulders serves as a response, an indicator that your question is probably one you already know the answer to. However, he still doesn’t hesitate to enlighten you.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your skin feels on fire as his lips move against your cheek. He invades your senses with the smell of s’mores and liquor mixed with his familiar scent of shampoo, detergent, and nature. His body is warm, his heart beating rapidly from his adrenaline. Yours is racing just as swiftly, anticipating another heated encounter with the mysterious stranger who knows your body better than anyone.

“I can try.”

Yoongi guides you closer to a nearby tree, gently pushing you against the bark. He pulls down his mask before he speaks again.

“I sure hope you can.”

His blade touches your thigh and you let out a small gasp because of how cold it is. It feels real. It looks real.

“Wouldn’t want to make me mad tonight, love.”

“Why not? You’re gonna use that?” you ask him, now entirely aware of how huge the prop really is.

Yoongi pauses and tilts his head. “Sounds like you want me to.”

You can’t deny how intrigued you are by the object. You’ve experimented with all kinds of toys, but this would be a new one for you. However, another opportunity like this won’t come often—if at all.

“And what if someone sees us?”

“What if they’re already watching?” he counters.

Even Yoongi notices your reaction despite it being dark. Your hands clutch the bark, hoping your knees don’t buckle or give out.

As Yoongi moves the machete further up your leg, you know he wants to know where the skin stops—when will he reach the fabric of your shorts? However, you just threw on some shoes and ran outside when you got the text. He’ll never find what he’s looking for.

Realizing at that moment, he lifts your oversized shirt slightly to confirm his suspicions.

“Should have known.”

You give him a little smirk, letting him know it was intentional. You never know when a quickie will present itself around here. You have to be prepared at all times.

“You should have,” you repeat. “Wanna see the back?”

Yoongi nods and lowers his weapon so you can turn away from him. When you’re facing the tree, you lift your shirt, knowing he’s expecting you to stop at the waist. Instead, you remove the item entirely and drop it beside you, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties.

Yoongi whistles and you scold him playfully. “Shh! What if someone heard that?”

“Trust me. No one did,” he promises.

Once again, he’s all over you. His arms around you, his lips kissing your neck and shoulders, his body shielding you from the breeze in the air. You’re drunk from his touch within seconds, and the way he speaks in your ear only intensifies the throbbing between your thighs.

“Don’t worry about them. I need you.”

No, he needs to be in you.

You can feel his boner getting harder the longer you stand there naked before him. You would tease him, make him chase you for it, but who knows how long before the others come looking for you?

“Well, it’s right here. Just take it,” you reply.

Yoongi doesn’t waste a second. He tears off your underwear, causing you to cover your mouth to capture your startled shriek. You would have just taken them off if he just asked, but you have to admit the manhandling is kind of hot. You’d put on seven layers of clothes just to watch him rip them off you.

The sound of his belt buckle and zipper lets you know what’s to come. You feel the thick tip of his dick touch your ass when he steps behind you, and just from the small contact, you know he’s standing at attention.

You spread your legs for him and he slides his cock between your thighs. Both of you exhale, already relieving some of the tension. Your wetness is already pooling at your entrance so he slowly slips inside of you in one motion.

“Fuck me.”

He’s momentarily caught off guard by your eagerness but recovers quickly and fulfills your request.

“Can’t wait, huh?”

Yoongi begins to thrust his hips, causing a skin-slapping noise to resonate through the woods. You can only hope no one hears the obscene sounds coming from the two of you. You try your best to suppress your cries of pleasure but Yoongi doesn’t hold back as he moans in your ear.

“This pussy’s so good,” he mumbles against your flesh. His hand wraps around your throat and he begins to squeeze, making your head spin. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Not me?”

Your voice comes out rough and shaky. You can barely finish your sentence because the words are getting trapped in the back of your throat. Yoongi chuckles sending vibrations straight to your core, the sensation leaves you trembling.

“Enjoy the moment, baby.”

He knows you’re joking. You barely know each other. This is fun, but that’s all it is. You know you’ll probably never see him again.

“Oh, I am.”

You can feel yourself getting hotter. Each snap of Yoongi’s hips takes you closer to the edge. Drool and tears roll down your face but you don’t bother wiping them away. You barely know they’re there.

“You like getting fucked in the wood? Butt ass naked, hm?” he growls. “Such a little freak?”

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

He laughs.

“No shame at all, baby. You’re really enjoying yourself, huh?”

You try to nod but you realize that you can’t so you croak the best response you can give in your position. “I am. It’s good.”

“I know.”

As he fucks you from behind, you almost forget about what he’s holding in his right hand. It doesn’t cross your mind until the blade touches your skin. He drags it across your skin, leaving goosebumps all over your body. Only one question comes to mind.

“Is that real?” you ask through your labored panting.

Yoongi pauses and brings the machete to your throat.

“Move and you’ll find out.”

Your eyes widen as your soul threatens to leap out of you. Excitement mixed with fear and curiosity makes you let out the moans you so desperately tried to conceal. You can feel the sharp edge threaten to break through your fresh as Yoongi begins to fuck you again. You aren’t sure how much you have left in you, but you know it’s not much.

“I feel you clenching,” he reveals. “You’re just as fucked up as me.”

He’s no longer controlling himself. He goes deeper and deeper with each stroke, touching your cervix and making your back arch. Your head tilts back, resting on his shoulder for support. Your nails dig into the bark as you stare at the moon, mind racing with a flood of disgusting thoughts and possibilities.

You wonder if someone’s watching, or recording you. If the blade will leave a mark, making you remember this encounter forever. Everything just hits you like a whirlwind. You barely have time to warn Yoongi.

“I—I’m cumming!”

The leaves and dirt become damp with your juices squirting all over the ground beneath you. Yoongi has to drop the machete to keep you on your two feet. He fills your ears with the filthiest things, intensifying your orgasm. You have no idea how long you’ve been cumming all over his dick, but Yoongi’s only a few thrust away from reaching his peak.

“This pussy’s so good. Give me another one,” he demands, fucking you harder.

“Wait a minute!”

You try to bargain for a month to recover from your last orgasm but Yoongi’s ready to blow his load. He grabs your hips and drills into your sensitive cunt with only one thing in mind. All you can do is hold on and hope he doesn’t have to carry you back to camp.

“Fuck!”

He curses loudly into the night when another wave of pleasure causes your walls to squeeze around him. This time he has no choice but to pull out and release his seed all over your ass. He moans and groans as the ropes of cum paint your skin. Soon, the only noises you hear are the crickets and both of you breathing heavily.

“Where is everyone?”

You can’t help but notice how besides the two of you no other voices can be heard. The game of hide and seek doesn’t even seem to be going on anymore.

It’s dead silence all around you.

“Probably dead,” Yoongi answers.

You roll your eyes and grab your shirt, shaking off the dirt before putting it on. You turn to Yoongi who’s adjusting his pants. His mask lies on the ground beside his machete, and you can’t help but notice the red stains splattered all over the white object.

“You really went all out, huh?”

You point towards the items and he laughs. “Yeah, you can say that.”

Both of you stand there for a minute before you decide to head back to camp. You assume everyone forgot about you so technically you have a victory.

“I’m gonna head back but this was really fun.”

Yoongi nods. “Tell your bunkmates I said hi, yeah?”

“Uh, sure. Okay.”

Everyone calls Yoongi a little weird, but you like that about him. You talk about all kinds of things that others would find strange. However, you don’t ever recall him speaking with the people you share a bunk with. They don’t even work with your group.

The walk back isn’t a long one, and on your way to your cabin, you take a peek at the kids. Some are actually sound asleep while the others are pretending to be. You smile thinking about how you and your friends did the same thing as kids.

You leave them to continue doing whatever it is they were doing, giving them a last taste of summer before the return home and school begins.

For some reason, the counselor quarters are unusually dark tonight and you struggle getting in the door. You don’t turn on the light, noticing that there’s someone slumped over the couch asleep. They look hammered so you leave the be. In your room, you notice that your bunkmates are all asleep. You tiptoe so you don’t wake them, but slip on something wet as you make your way to your bed.

“Shit, what the fuck?! I’m sorry guys.”

You carefully get up, covered in some sort of thick goo. You struggle for several minutes to find the light switch and when you do, nothing but horror awaits.

Blood.

The entire room covered in it. You try to shake everyone, trying to wake them up from the sick prank. However, the longer you examine the state of their limp bodies, the realization finally dawns on you.

“He wasn’t joking.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts x reader #suga x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #aaagustd.fics

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ladykailitha · 8 months

Text

Love is Kind

All of the stories I was reading today were sad Steve and it made me cry so I wrote happy Steve to make me feel better.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Jeana looked down at the purple water lilies in Steve's hand in distaste.

"Water lilies?" she asked, frowning. "Not red roses?"

Steve looked at her in confusion. "Yeah, your favorite flower in your favorite color."

"Yeah," she agreed, reluctantly taking the flowers. "But red roses are more romantic for Valentine's Day."

Steve went from wilting in disappointment to her reaction, to standing up straight with a spine of steel. "Oh I get it now." He took bouquet back from her forcefully. "Yeah, we're done."

Jeana's eyes went wide. "You're breaking up with me on Valentine's Day over a bunch of flowers?"

"No, Jeana," he said coldly. "We're done because you didn't tell me you wanted red roses. I assumed that the cheaper more personal water lilies would be the perfect thing for Valentine's Day."

Jeana winced.

"Ohhh..." Steve said, "I get it now. You wanted the Harrington money." He rubbed his fingers together. "Despite the fact that I work at a book store. That I told you when we first started going out that I had been kicked out."

Jeana rolled her eyes. "You still wore nice clothes and had fancy hair products in your bathroom, like I was supposed to believe that obvious lie?"

"I save for those!" Steve hissed. "I can't use anything else for my hair, I've tried. And yeah, so sue me for buying something nice once in a while."

She peeked around him to see the table was set with romantic candles and another bouquet of water lilies. "You weren't even going to take me out to eat?"

Steve tossed the flowers on the counter behind him. "Why else would I have you come here instead of picking you up?"

Jeana threw her arms in the air. "I thought you were supposed to be this Romeo, this Casanova."

Steve's nostrils flared. "Out!"

She stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere until we talk this through!"

"There is nothing to talk about," Steve said, spinning her around and pushing her toward the door. "You were expecting me to shell out a shit ton of money on you, money you thought I was hiding from you. It's clear you were never interested in me, only the money and prestige the Harrington name brought you."

He opened the door and shoved her through it. "Goodbye."

He slammed the door behind her and gripped his hair tightly. Not enough to pull but just enough to feel pain at pressure of his tugging.

Now he had dinner that was about to be ready in ten minutes, no girlfriend, and a dessert he had slaved over all day.

He needed to call someone to share this with. Robin was doing Valentine's with Vickie so she was out.

Then his eyes lit up. He knew exactly who to call.

He walked over to the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Munson's Funeral Parlor, you tag 'em, we bag 'em," the warm baritone came through the line.

"Eddie!" Steve said with a giggle.

"Stevie!" Eddie greeted back. "To what to I owe this pleasure?"

"How goes your anti-consumerism night in?" Steve asked, avoiding Eddie's question.

"Eh..." Eddie said. "Could be better. I'm watching violent movies to make myself feel less lonely."

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. "I have a warm lasagna, fresh breadsticks, and a nice bottle of wine and suddenly sans a girlfriend if you wanted to have some company."

"What happened with Jeana?" Eddie asked.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She didn't want me, she wanted the Harrington money, the King Steve charm, and a Casanova, not Steve Harrington who works at a queer little book shop in the middle of town."

"Well, fuck her," Eddie said. "Her loss. You bet I'll be there, sweetheart. Just give me time to put on my shoes and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Eds."

Steve opened the door a few minutes later to find that Eddie somehow had found sunflowers in the middle of fucking winter.

“Where are on earth did you find these, Eds?” Steve asked, breathing in the scent of his favorite flower.

Eddie tapped his nose knowingly. He spotted the water lilies in the vase on the table and dumped them in the trash. He replaced them with Steve’s sunflowers.

“There, that livens up the place better,” he said, turning to Steve, “don’cha think?”

Steve smiled back at him. “Yeah it really does.”

He went and made up their plates as Eddie opened the wine. He set them down on the table while Eddie filled their glasses. Steve trotted back to the kitchen and pulled out the breadsticks that were warming in the oven. He put them in a nice basket a covered them with a towel. He set them on the table between Eddie and him.

“This looks fantastic, Stevie,” Eddie murmured and dug into the lasagna. “Ooh. This is better than fantastic. This is divine.”

Steve hurried to take a sip of his wine to hide the flush of pleasure at the compliment that dusted his cheeks. And judging from the smirk on Eddie’s face, he hadn’t been successful at all.

“So what were you watching before I interrupted you?” he asked, blush still staining his cheeks.

“Chinatown.”

Steve grimaces. “That is pretty violent. A little depressing too.”

Eddie shrugged, stabbing another bite of lasagna. “Was kind of the point. Didn’t want anything happy or romantic today.”

Steve picked up his glass and held up to Eddie. “I’ll drink to that.”

Eddie laughed, but clinked their glasses together and drank when Steve did.

They polished off all of the breadsticks, all of the wine, and about half of the lasagna. Steve put the leftovers in the fridge.

“You want a soda or something?” he called from the door of the fridge.

“I’ll take a beer if you have one,” Eddie called back from the sofa.

Steve grabbed two beers and handed one of the cans to Eddie.

“I thought you preferred bottles, babe,” Eddie said, popping open the can.

“I do,” Steve muttered darkly. “They were Jeana’s.”

Eddie cackled. “Here’s to stealing your ex’s shitty beer!”

Steve laughed too. “Cheers!”

Eddie went over to Steve’s record player and put on some Metallica he’d left over here and then flopped back on the sofa next to Steve.

“Thanks for coming over,” Steve murmured over the screaming riffs of Master of Puppets. “Rob is over at Vickie’s tonight and didn’t want to ruin her Valentine’s day, too.”

Eddie smiled softly. “And since I refuse to participate in the rampant consumerism of the day, there would be nothing for you to ruin.”

Steve chuckled. “That and you’re my best friend. I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend it with.”

This time it was Eddie’s turn to blush and he shoved a lock of hair in front of his face to hide the redness of his cheeks. He pushed playfully at Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck off. I’m sure there are lots of people you could have called that would have come running.”

“Rob was first pick,” Steve said, “you were second. I mean it, Eds. I wanted to share everything I’d done for her with you instead.”

Eddie’s blush reached his ears and stained the column of his throat. “You keep that shit up and this boy is going to start thinking impure thoughts.”

Steve blinked for a moment before he laughed. It wasn’t a harsh or hurtful laugh. It was bright and cheerful. “You put out on the first date, Eds?”

Eddie who was starting to think he’d taken it a step too far, stared up at Steve in amazement. He got his wits back fast enough to quip, “Only if they’re pretty enough.”

Steve ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck trying to hide his embarrassment. Well maybe that was the wrong word. Charmed. He was fucking charmed.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie raised Steve’s chin with his finger. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Stevie.”

Steve gulped. “And if I told you that I’ve had the biggest crush on you for so long?”

“Then I would ask why we aren’t dating, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, leaning in close.

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “Because I didn’t think I was an option for you.”

Eddie half knelt on the sofa, cupping his face in his hands. “You are my number one option, honey. Just say the word and I’m yours.”

“Mine.”

Eddie grinned and then kissed Steve gently on the lips. He pulled back after a moment. “This isn’t just because you’re lonely on Valentine’s Day, right?”

Steve pulled Eddie onto his lap and brushed their noses together. “No, baby. She was only ever a placeholder for you. And a piss poor one at that. She never loved me for me. Not like you.”

Eddie chuckled. “And what makes you think I love you, pretty boy?”

“Because you knew I would be sad and brought me sunflowers.”

Eddie kissed Steve fiercely. “You are too clever for your own good, honey. Yes, that is exactly why I brought them. Because I didn’t want you to be sad. Because I wanted you to feel loved.”

“And I do,” Steve murmured. “I love you, too. So so much.”

“Good.”

They resumed kissing. It was darker. Deeper. More potent. Eddie could write songs and poems and books filled with the love he felt for this man and finding out that he felt the same.

All the bookstores and libraries in all the world couldn’t begin to fill the amount of pages Eddie would need to even try and convey how he felt in that moment.

But it could be summed up in one word.

Ecstasy.

Just pure ecstasy.

Robin wasn’t sure if it could be called a walk of shame when she had told Steve that she would be spending the night at Vickie’s, but walking into their shared apartment after the wild sex they had had last night she did feel a little silly.

She stopped short when she saw who was in her kitchen making breakfast in Steve’s track pants.

“Eddie?” she squeaked.

Eddie looked up at her with a grin. “Welcome home, Bucksters! If you haven’t eaten yet, pull up a chair and grab a stack of pancakes. I’ve made plenty.”

“You’re not Jeana,” Robin said stupidly.

“Nope.”

“Steve would never cheat,” she said, again trying to figure this out.

“Nope.”

“You two are a couple now?” Robin asked, her brain still in first gear.

“Yup!”

Just then a very sleep rumpled Steve came wandering out of his bedroom and latched on to Eddie. “I missed you.” He kissed Eddie’s neck.

Eddie kissed his temple. “Sorry, sweetness. I got hungry.”

“Mhmm..” he muttered. “Does smell good.”

“Morning, dingus.” Robin crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You want to tell what this is about?”

Steve looked over at her and gave her a dopey smile. “Jeana sucked. Only wanted the Harrington money and not me. Called Eddie over to make me less sad. He brought me sunflowers and made me very happy.”

Robin looked over at Eddie who half shrugged around a clingy Steve. “That’s the gist of it.”

“Got it,” she said. “I’m happy for you both.”

She grabbed a plate and pilled on the pancakes, with Steve releasing Eddie to do the same.

As the three of them sat down and ate Eddie’s pancakes, Steve smiled happily to himself.

He was with the two people he loved most in all the world and he wouldn’t change a thing.

***

Permanent List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #valentine's fic #fluff #minor steve/female oc #breakup

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alessiasfreckles · 8 months

Text

chocolate chip cookies (alessia russo x depressed!reader)

when you quit the team, feeling lost, no one knows what to do, including you. you spend days curled up in bed, alone, until you meet alessia, your replacement, who brings you out of your shell and helps you find yourself again.

warnings: depression is a big topic in this one! no mention of s/h or suicidal thoughts, just overall depression. if you're feeling depressed, don't hesitate to reach out.

-------------

When you tell the team that you’re quitting, the room goes silent. Then someone bursts out laughing. You’re not sure who, you’re staring at the ground, not wanting to look into the faces of your now former teammates. They think it’s a joke. It’s only when you turn around and leave without another word that they realise you’re being serious.

And you are. You've already spoken to Jonas - he tried to convince you to stay, but you’d made up your mind. He told you that whilst he couldn’t guarantee there would always be a spot for you on the team, there’d always be a spot for you at the club. You nodded, thanking him quietly. You won’t be going back, you know that, but it seems unnecessary to make this harder for everyone else.

You don’t go back to the training ground after you tell everyone. You’ve already packed all your things in your car, wanting to make your departure quick and easy. On the drive home, your phone keeps buzzing with messages and calls from your former teammates. When you’re at a red light, you turn your phone off.

You decided to leave a while ago. You’ve lost any passion for the game, and when you realised that you were just going through the movements, you decided it would be best for the team if you left. You were dead weight, taking up a spot that could be used by someone else. Someone better. Someone who cares.

When you get home, you leave everything in the car, even your phone. You go inside and go straight to your room, getting into bed. you’re just so tired. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, feeling slightly more peaceful now that you don’t have the prospect of quitting looming ahead.

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your front door. Most of the day has passed, it’s getting dark outside. You lie there for a minute, waiting to see if the banging will stop, but it just gets more insistent. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed and to the front door. When it opens, you see the faces of your teammates. Beth, Viv, Leah, Kim, Katie. The core five. They ask what’s going on, say that they’ve been trying to call you and message you all day. You walk past them to your car, get your phone out, shrug.

“I left my phone in the car,” you say. You watch them exchange glances.

Still, you don’t want to be a bad host. Or a bad friend - if they still consider you a friend. You decide that it’s understandable if they don’t. You invite them in, and they pile onto your sofa. Leah pulls a stool in front of the sofa, telling you to sit down. You sit. Five faces stare at you, expressions ranging from confused to worried to something like anger.

You didn’t mean to make anyone angry.

“What’s going on?” Kim asks, her captain voice on.

You shrug.

“Why would you quit?” Katie asks, frowning.

I’m not good enough, I'm bringing the team down, I don’t care about playing, the team deserves better, you all deserve better, runs through your head.

You shrug.

“Y/n, is something going on?” Viv asks, her voice gentle.

I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want to sleep, I wish I didn’t exist, life would be easier if I didn’t exist, I don’t understand why any of you are here, why do you care about me, I don’t care about me, I’m not worth caring about.

You shrug, then shake your head.

“I just don’t want to play anymore,” you finally say. You’re not sure if it’s the truth or not. You loved playing, once. You loved the feeling that you got when you were on the pitch, the way it made everything else melt away. But you haven’t had that feeling in a while. When you’re on the pitch, the voice telling you you’re not good enough follows you.

Your former teammates frown. They’re not convinced, and honestly, neither are you. You say that you’re tired, you want to sleep. They get the hint and leave, but not before each hugging you tightly, telling you to call them if you need anything. Beth and Viv promise to bring Myle around at the weekend, and Leah says she’ll come and see you tomorrow.

They keep it up for a few weeks, but the season is starting, and you know they’re busy. You spend your days at home, curled up in bed, cocooned in a blanket. You watch tv and scroll on your phone for hours. You order the food shopping to be delivered so you don’t even have to leave the house. Someone usually visits you on their day off, and the girls message you. You go over to Beth and Viv’s place, cuddle the dogs, watch tv there instead of in bed at home. It's okay. You’re fine. You don’t feel any better, really, but it’s fine.

It starts when you’re forced to go to a movie night. Leah promises it’s just a small group of the girls, she knows you don’t want to be faced with the whole team. She tells you that there’s one new girl there, the new signing, but that she’s really nice. On the day, you think about ways to get out of it - surely Leah can’t just force you to go?

She can and she does. She shows up at your house, tells you that she will pick you up and put you in the car if she has to. You crack a smile at the image. It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a while. Leah notices.

The movie night is at hers. She's picked you up early, and when you get back to her place she sets you to work, chopping fruits and veggies for a snack board. The doorbell rings, the first person arriving. You expect it to be maybe Beth and Viv, who are usually pretty punctual, but it’s the new girl. Alessia. You've seen her in person a couple of times, when the team played against Manchester United last season, but you were already feeling out of it and hadn’t paid much attention to her then.

She comes in, hugs Leah and smiles at you. You smile back. She asks if there’s anything she can do to help, and Leah directs her to some meat and cheese she’s put out that needs slicing. She's been seeing charcuterie boards on instagram a lot lately and wanted to try making one.

“You mean, you wanted to get us to make one for you,” Alessia teases, and you let out a small laugh. It surprises you, and Leah, whose mouth drops open slightly. Alessia doesn’t think twice of it - why would she, she’s never really met you before. She wouldn’t know that it’s the first time anyone has made you laugh in, well, months.

The evening goes well. It's nice to be around the girls. You don’t pay much attention to the movie, your brain feels too foggy to keep up with it. The mean voice returns, telling you that you’re just there because they feel sorry for you. You start picking at your nails.

“I like your nail polish,” Alessia leans over and says to you quietly. She’s sat next to you on the sofa.

“Oh, thanks,” you reply, taken aback. The nail polish is chipped and worn, remnants from Katie coming over and painting your nails a few weeks ago.

“It's a great colour. I like having my nails done but I'm terrible at leaving them alone. I fidget too much and I'm clumsy so I usually end up breaking at least one,” she tells you, looking at her own nails.

You nod, not saying anything. You wrack your brain, trying to think of what to say or how to act. It's been so long since you talked to anyone new that you feel like you’ve forgotten how to be normal.

“Um, you can borrow it, if you want,” you say. “The colour, I mean. I can give it to one of the girls to give to you.”

“Really? That’d be great!” she looks at you with a big smile. You feel an odd sensation in your stomach, like you’ve just had a hot drink and the warmth is trying to spread throughout your body.

You nod shyly, giving her a small smile.

After that night, she starts messaging you. The first message you write off as being about the nail polish. After all, why else would she message you? She keeps going, though. After she sends you a message thanking you for the nail polish, she mentions a book she’s reading. You’ve read it too, so you figure the polite thing to do is to ask her what she thinks of it so far. Then she asks you for recommendations. You’ve been reading a lot, lately, now that you have time. You send her a detailed list, then realise that maybe that’s too much, but you’ve sent it now. She replies with heart eyes and exclamation marks, so you think that maybe it was okay after all.

She asks if she can come over to borrow a book you’ve told her about. After a moment of hesitation, you say yes, she can come over tomorrow afternoon, if that works. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying. The next morning you find a chocolate chip cookie recipe. You used to bake a lot, but you didn’t really have time for it anymore after becoming a professional footballer, and you weren’t meant to be eating that kind of thing anyway. The thought crosses your mind as you mix the ingredients that maybe Alessia won’t want any, since most of the team eat pretty healthily. You keep mixing. It’s too late now, you might as well finish making them.

You’re nervous, waiting for her to arrive. You’re not sure why, probably just because you haven’t interacted with her alone before. You’ve put some cookies out on a plate in case she wants any, and you’ve already got the book she wants to borrow lying on the table.

When the doorbell rings, it makes you jump. You open the door and she steps inside, immediately giving you a hug, then quickly stepping back.

“Sorry, is hugging okay? I need to get better at checking with people before I hug them,” she says apologetically.

“Hugging is okay,” you nod, and she grins and pulls you into a hug.

“Oh my god, it smells amazing in here!” she exclaims, looking around.

“I made chocolate chip cookies,” you explain, and brace yourself for rejection. “Do you want one?”

“Absolutely!” she says, and you try to hide the surprise on your face. You offer her the plate and she takes one. When she bites into it, she lets out a moan that has you blushing. “Holy shit, y/n, these are incredible! You really made these yourself?”

You feel that warmth pooling in your stomach again. You nod, smiling shyly.

“You should be a professional baker or something, these are so so good!” she tells you, polishing off the cookie. You can’t help but smile. There are crumbs on the corners of her mouth and a smear of chocolate on her chin.

“You’ve, um, got something,” you say, pointing to your chin. “Right there. A bit of chocolate, I think.”

“Whoops,” she blushes, wiping the chocolate away with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, I have the book you wanted,” you say, figuring that she probably has things to do.

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly?” she asks.

A pit opens up in your stomach. “No, no!” you quickly insist, but she laughs and waves you off.

“I’m just teasing,” she tells you, smiling.

You smile back, but it’s forced. It doesn’t seem like Alessia notices, though.

“You have a lot of books,” she says, eyeing the large bookshelf in your living room. “Have you always read a lot?”

“I used to, when I was little. I didn’t really have time to read as much when I joined the team,” you say, and wince at the mention of your leaving. She’s never brought up the fact that she essentially replaced you, and you don’t want her to.

“I’m guessing leaving the team has given you a lot more time for things like reading?” she asks, and you nod.

“And baking,” you add, not wanting it to seem like you’ve just been sitting at home not doing anything since you left. Even if that is the truth. She doesn’t need to know that today is the first time you’ve baked in, well, years.

“True, that one is very important!” she says, taking another cookie from the plate. “Seriously, y/n, these are amazing.”

She keeps asking you things, about yourself, about books, about your life, and you don’t realise how much time has passed until you look outside to see that it’s gotten dark. She follows your gaze out of the window and jumps up.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was! I really should get going,” she says apologetically.

You hold out the plate of cookies. “Want one for the road?”

The two of you message more after that. It’s weird, how easy it is to talk to her. You chalk it up to the fact that she never met you before you left. This is the only version of you she knows. She doesn’t expect anything from you.

A couple weeks later, she asks if she can borrow another book. This time she wants you to recommend something for her, and you pore over your bookshelf for hours, trying to find the perfect book for her. Once you’ve decided on one, the next task you’re faced with is what to bake this time. She didn’t mention anything about it, but after she enjoyed your cookies so much, it feels like it’d only be right to bake something again.

This time you make pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. You carefully mould little pumpkins out of marzipan to decorate the cupcakes, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the look of astonishment on her face when she eats one and lets out a moan at how good it is. She keeps commenting on the little pumpkins, in awe at the fact that you made them by hand, and the warm feeling spreads throughout your body, making your fingers tingle. After she leaves, armed with a new book and two more cupcakes, you get a message from Leah, inquiring about where her cupcake is, and how come Alessia gets cupcakes but you’ve never baked anything for her, and you smile to yourself.

The days in between visits are not as good. You still spend a lot of time curled up in bed. Sometimes, you think about the future, and you usually end up falling asleep trying not to think about it, brain spiralling.

This goes on for a few months. Every couple of weeks, Alessia visits you for a new book and some new baked goods, and every time the two of you spend a little longer talking. You both avoid the topic of you leaving the team and what you’re going to do next. You have enough money in savings that it’s not something you have to worry about, for a while at least, and thinking about it makes you want to cry, or sleep, or just not exist anymore.

One day, though, Alessia is sitting on your sofa, eating a slice of lemon cake, when she asks gently, “What are you doing, y/n?”.

The question is enough to make you burst into tears, tears that you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you sob helplessly as she rushes to your side, pulling you into a hug.

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks after you’ve calmed down a little.

The question makes you stop. You haven’t thought about that in forever.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play football,” you shrug.

“But… not anymore?” she prompts you. You can understand why she’d think that. You quit, after all.

“I don’t know. I think I do still want to play, just… not at that level. It was too much. I feel like I-” you trail off, sighing. “I feel like I lost myself. And I still don’t know where I am, or who I am. Everything just feels so hard, like it’s all so much effort, and like there’s nothing I can do to stop it all from happening, like it’s a huge wave and I’m just getting tossed around under the water, barely able to come up for air.”

She nods, not saying anything, and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment for opening up like that.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that, I-” you say, but she cuts you off.

“No, it’s okay! I asked, I want to know. And it makes sense. A friend of mine struggled with depression a lot when we were teenagers, and-”

“Wait, depression? You think I’m depressed?” you ask, confused. Alessia laughs gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m 99% sure you’re depressed,” she says.

“Wha- I’m not depressed,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s not like I want to hurt myself or anything.”

“Okay, but do you ever feel like it would be easier if you didn’t exist?” she asks, and you frown. “Or, like, have you lost interest in things you were previously passionate about? Do you feel tired all the time?”

“Okay,” you say, slowly. “So, maybe I’m a little depressed.”

The mean voice at the back of your mind laughs.

“What if I’m just being dramatic, though?” you ask. “Plus, I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good life, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Look, what if you go and see someone? A doctor, or a therapist?” she suggests, and your cheeks burn at the thought of burdening someone else with your problems.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand. “There’s definitely more important stuff they have to deal with. I’m fine, seriously.”

She raises an eyebrow but drops the topic. She brings it up the next time she comes over though, and the next, and the next. You think about it a lot.You look stuff up online, look at social media accounts talking about people’s experiences, buy books dealing with the subject.

The next time she comes over, you tell her you’ve made an appointment with a therapist, and she hugs you tightly.

You start seeing each other weekly, after that. Sometimes she’ll go to yours, sometimes you’ll go to hers. She’s on a mission to help you figure out what you want, and nothing is going to stop her. She buys you baking books and equipment, goes to galleries and museums with you, watches documentaries on pretty much everything and anything the two of you can find. When you mention that you’ve been thinking about learning how to play the piano, she helps you find a teacher nearby.

Things are looking up. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you’re feeling better. Your therapist is good, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re in a position to be able to pay for private therapy.

When Alessia rings your doorbell, you don’t think anything of it. You’d planned for her to come over to watch a documentary she’d found about llamas (you weren’t sure what revelation you were going to have about your future from watching something about llamas, but who were you to deny her?). When you open the door, she’s smiling from ear to ear and holding a box.

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, closing the door behind her gently as she comes in.

She carefully sets the box down and opens it to reveal a small ginger kitten. It looks up at you with wide eyes and lets out a small meow, then puts its paws up on the edge of the box, looking out curiously.

“Alessia, what is this? Whose kitten is this?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yours?” she asks, smiling sheepishly.

“What do you mean, mine?”

“I mean, she’s your kitten. If you want her? Oh god, please say you want her. It’s just, you talked about having a cat when you were younger, and how much you’d like to have one again, and I figured they’re a lot lower maintenance than dogs, and-” she’s cut off by you hugging her tightly. Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them away fiercely, still hugging Alessia.

A small mew alerts you to the kitten, who has jumped out of the box and is rubbing her head against your leg.

“I have her stuff in the car,” Alessia says, nodding towards the door. “I’ll just go get it?”

You nod, unable to look at anything but the tiny kitten now trying to clamber up your leg.

You’ve been seeing your therapist for about 6 months when Alessia asks you to be her girlfriend. It’s a couple months after she got you Dorothea - Dory for short (or Dorito, occasionally), as you’d named the ginger kitten. You’re stunned, but quickly nod yes as she starts to bite her lip, looking worried at your lack of answer. You hug her, feeling her breathe a sigh of relief against you, and when she kisses you she tastes like the chocolate chip cookies you’d made earlier that day, the same recipe as the first time she’d come over.

Your therapist has been helping you figure out what you want, now that you’re slowly regaining some of the passion you’d lost. You decide that you do still want to do something with football, just, as you’d told Alessia, not professional football. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed having time to yourself, having other hobbies outside of your work.

You get in contact with Jonas, who puts you in contact with some other people, and before you know it you’re back at the club. Not on the team, you've made it pretty clear that that’s not what you want. Instead, you’re spending the day at the youth program. You already know by lunch time that this is what you want to do.

Before you know it, you’re settled in as a coach for the Academy. Your days consist of working with kids, young people who have the whole world ahead of them. You still have bad days sometimes, where it feels like you can’t get out of bed. On days like that Dory cuddles up next to you in bed, and Alessia holds you close. She moves in after you get the job, claiming it makes sense, since you’re always either at her place or she’s at your place anyway. She insists that she’s still very much a dog person, but you catch her asleep on the sofa one evening, with Dory curled up on her lap, and you smile.

#alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo fanfic #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #awfc #also i know this is a pretty 'good' image of depression #and that it's usually much messier than this #but for the sake of the fic i left it fairly 'mild'#tw: depression #hannah writes fics

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daydreamerwoah · 17 days

Text

All of You

The day after Simon returned home from his latest mission, he was frustrated and angry to find his washer had broken, although he wasn't surprised. That thing had been giving him problems for months, but he was never home long enough to worry about getting it fixed. And today he was still too tired to call for someone to come fix it.

He hated to do it, but he called you, asking if he could wash his uniform and gear at your place, and he apologized for needing to do it. You told him he was being silly. After all, you were his girlfriend as of two months ago. Of course, you didn't mind if he came over to wash.

When he arrived, he looked tired and worn out like he had spent the last couple of weeks yelling, fighting, hardly sleeping, and so on. Did he even get any sleep? He probably hadn't if you guessed, although he never really talked about his work, other than telling you he was in a task force and was an SAS soldier.

You pulled him into a longing hug before trying to help him with his bags full of laundry, although he insisted you didn't need to. When he placed the bags in front of the washer, you watched him groan in slight pain. From what you could see, he had two big bruises on his left arm, and you could only imagine if the rest of his body was battered.

"Si," you walked up to him, making him face you, "Why don't you go sit down yeah? I'll wash your stuff. There's food on the stove-" you pointed to the cooked meal you had prepared "-I'm sure you're tired."

He showed very little emotion as always, but his eyes always gave him away to you. He was hesitant, feeling like you were forcing yourself to do this. But you weren't. You gave him a loving smile as you took his hand and led him to the couch.

"Y'sure love?" he asked, not sitting down yet.

You giggled and gently pushed him. Now Simon was a strong and bulky man. Your push really wouldn't have made him move an inch, but he was tired and partial to the fact that you wanted to take care of him. So he gave in easily and plopped down on the couch. It was one of the things you had to get used to - it was his first real relationship. He had never been one for being vulnerable in front of anyone, yet he was starting to be with you. Your smile, personality, trust, and everything about you was what drew him in.

"Yes. Now relax," you leaned down and gave him a sweet peck on the lips, "I'll make you a plate."

You fixed his plate up, making sure to pile a little bit more as you knew he probably hadn't had a proper meal since before he left for his mission. And he absolutely loved your cooking. Once you handed it to him, along with a glass of Bourbon, you made your way to his bags and began taking the clothing out and putting it into the washer.

You heard the TV turn on and realized Simon had started watching a Rugby match, hearing his relaxed sigh as he continued eating. You smiled to yourself, happy that he was trusting you more, even if it took a little bit of encouragement from you.

As you grabbed the next item in his bag, you pulled out something hard. Your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced at a hard-shell skull mask. Red, dry substance was lightly splattered around it; blood. He probably wouldn't want it to be thrown in the washer with the other stuff.

"Si," you stood up and walked towards him, "Do you want me to hand wash your mask?"

When you glanced up at him, his eyes widened slightly as he stood up, quickly setting the plate down on the coffee table, and met you halfway, "Where'd y'get that?" he quickly asked before reaching for the mask.

"It was in your bag. I can hand wash-"

"No," he said as he took the mask out of your hands and walked toward the washer.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him bend down and rummage through his bags looking for something. He looked flustered, slightly cursing under his breath.

"I don't think that blood will come off if-"

"I said no Y/n," his voice raised as he stood and faced you. Your mouth shut as you wondered why his attitude changed all of a sudden. You weren't particularly hurt by his words, but you were utterly confused. Your face must have morphed in a way that looked...... sorrow, as Simon's eyes softened. He rubbed a hand down his face before sighing and closing his eyes briefly, "Forgot to take 'em out of m'bags." he said.

One thing you learned about Simon when you first started dating was that he was like an onion - layers upon layers surrounded him, and every day you were peeling away at them. It was a task, no doubt, but one that you would gladly do for the rest of your life.

You slowly walked up to him, making sure you weren't setting him off as you inched closer. A soft hand placed on his arm, he looked down at you; hurt evident in his eyes.

"Baby-" you started, but he cut you off.

"M'sorry....... I didn't mean to snap at you like that sweetheart," you shook your head to stop him, but he continued, "I don't want you to see that side of me.............not yet."

A sad look formed in your own eyes, "Why?" your voice barely a whisper.

He paused, eyes flickering between yours. He opened and shut his mouth, lost for words for a second before he answered, "Don't want you to be scared of me."

Is that what he thought? That'd you be scared to see what he did for work?

"Simon I would never be scared of you," he opened his mouth to talk but you shhhh him, "I mean it. Baby, I know you're SAS. I know when you go on missions, you're out saving the world.... if that means you kill the bad guys, then as long as you come back to me safe, that's all I care about. I'm with you... all of you."

Your boyfriend had never looked at you in the way that he was looking at you right now. Love. That was the only way he could describe it. You two hadn't said those words yet; him probably not the type to even utter them. But the way he would treat you like you were his whole world would let you know. And you telling him those words just made him fall harder for you.

He slowly pulled you into a tight hug, feeling like if he were to let go you'd disappear from him. Soft kisses were placed on the top of your head as you buried your face into his broad chest and hugged him back with the same amount of love.

@romanceloverrrr @whataneed @spicyspicyliving

#call of duty #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #cod mwii #ghost riley #cod mw ghost #simon riley female #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #soft simon riley

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ninii-winchester · 30 days

Text

Timeless Love

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 3.7k

Warnings : angst, s12 ep 6 (spoilers), canon violence, mentions of demons, slight mention of john winchester, mentions of amara (slight spoiler), taylor swift reference (?), fluff. Not proofread.

Part 2 to Fleeting Love.

A/n: I don’t remember what exactly happened in that episode i just winged it.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Leaving was the hardest thing Dean had to do other than breaking Y/n's heart. He cried himself to sleep every night after seeing her looking like a shell of herself at school. He missed her smile and he missed being the reason of her smile. How could he let himself fall for someone, when he knew he could never have that kind of life. Loving her was the best and the worst decision of his life. Best because he got to know what love actually feels like and worst because he knows he'd never find anything like that ever again. He wouldn't allow himself to love anyone else in this lifetime. She was his first and last love.

Dean had left town, and Y/n was still picking up the pieces of a shattered heart. Days turned into weeks, but the ache never dulled. Every time she walked by the places they'd shared—her favorite diner, the lakeside road where they'd stargazed—the memories rushed in like a flood. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outrun the ghost of him.

As much as she wanted to hate him, part of her would always him. He was her first love, her first kiss and her first time. Deep down she knew it had everything to do with his father but his betrayal was still fresh in her mind. She knew her Dean wouldn't do that her but she wished he'd stood against his father. She wished he would've fought for their love. If only she knew the reason he couldn't do it.

Fifteen years had come and gone, and Y/n had built a life—one filled with new memories, a different kind of happiness. But despite the time and distance, her heart remained anchored to a love she never truly let go of. It wasn't that she was stuck in the past; she had moved on in every way that mattered. Yet, in the quiet moments, when the world fell still, it was Dean's face she saw, his voice she heard, as if time had never touched the feelings she carried for him.

Y/n let out a sigh as she waited for her flight to be announced. She was going to Canada for a wake of the man who saved her life. She vividly remembered six years ago, she was coming back from work and a huge dog like creature attacked her. She wouldn't have believed had she not seen it with her own eyes. It was a werewolf.

She dug into the supernatural, surprised by the sheer amount of lore tied to what was already known. Myths, legends, and creatures she once thought were just stories had entire histories woven into the fabric of the world she knew.

Asa Fox was the one that killed the thing and rescued her. Now he was no more. She owed it him to atleast pay her final respects to him.

Hours later she landed in Canada and made her way towards Asa's mother's house. It was late at night when she arrived. She stepped inside and noticed a small crowd gathered in the living room, while others lingered in the kitchen and a few more were out in the backyard. They were all lost in conversation, sharing memories and stories of the brave hunter they had come together to mourn. The air was heavy with both grief and respect as they honored the life he'd lived.

She'd found Asa's mother and paid her condolences to her, recounting how her son had saved her life and how she looked up to him. The older woman nodded and Y/n took it as her cue to leave her alone. She walked the hallway and bumped into someone, she quickly apologised and looked up to them and all the air seemed to leave her lungs.

"You.." she choked on her words and the other person looked at her in mild confusion and threw her an anticipatory glance. "Mary Winchester." Y/n finally spoke. The older woman tried to rack her brain if she knew the woman infront of her but her mind remained blank.

Y/n had seen photos of Dean's mother in his room also in his wallet and she adored how much he loved his mother. Her mind went haywire thinking back to when he told her his mother died in a house fire. Did he lie? Why would he though? Thousands of thoughts ran into her mind as she thought back to her relationship with the Winchester. Even after fifteen years he's still vivid in her head. Did everything he tell her was a lie? Was Dean even his real name.

Y/n could feel herself hyperventilate and she immediately wanted to put space between the supposedly dead woman and herself. She went to the kitchen to grab herself some water. There were only two people in the kitchen, a woman with a pixie cut and a man taller than anyone she had ever seen. She grabbed a water bottle chugging it down and calming her heartbeat. She took a deep breath before speaking,

"Uhm sorry to intrude but, is a Mary Winchester out there?" She questioned the couple gesturing towards the hallway she came from. The man looked at her with a unreadable look in his eyes.

"Yeah." The woman responded.

Y/n sighed, — atleast I'm not going crazy. She thought to herself. But if that's Dean's mom, what on earth is she doing here?

"You're Y/n." The man said. It wasn't a question. He knew her. She craned her neck to look up at his face and she furrowed her brows.

"I'm sorry have we met before?" She questioned taking a step forward. A sad smile appeared on his face. The woman beside him looked at him expectantly waiting for his reply.

"You seriously don't remember me?" He chuckled and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I'd remember if I had met someone as big as you." She replied leaning on the counter behind her.

"I wasn't this big when we met Y/n/n." Sam spoke and the nickname made her eyes flash with recognition but it was quickly overtaken by the hurt that came with those memories.

"Sammy." It just slipped out. She didn't mean to call him by that name, but when he called her y/n/n, it came out subconsciously. Her heart started beating loudly at the thought of his brother being here. She had never thought she'd ever meet Dean Winchester ever again and she was not ready.

Sam knew whatever happened between her and his brother hurt her more than anything and he wouldn't blame her if she up and left without a word, but he'd missed her. And he missed the man his brother was when he was with Y/n. After her, he was just a shell of a man, running on his father's commands like a soldier. Someone who seemed to let go off every emotion and just waiting for his father's next order.

Sam introduced Y/n to the woman beside him as sherrif Jody Mills and she was good friend.

"How're you Y/n?" Sam asked and she looked at him remembering the small kid she used help with homework.

"Been good. How about you?" Sam scoffed at her question. If only she knew how he's been. And how his brother's been. Coming back from the dead, hell, purgatory. She'd probably throw a chair at him for making up all this bullshit.

"Good yeah." Sam nodded. Y/n could hear footsteps approaching and prayed it wasn't who she thought it was. God knew she didn't want to see him. Maybe she hadn't been a good person, and this was her punishment, because Dean Winchester walked into the kitchen, her breath caught in her lungs.

"Sammy where the he-" Dean words got caught in his mouth as his gaze landed on her.

Y/n looked at the man she had loved and hoped that after all these years, she'd have fallen out of love with him. But one look and her heart started thudding against her ribcage. He had aged, but somehow, he was even more handsome. He was muscular now, his arms toned beneath his layers, and she could see it all. She could feel her eyes water and she didn't want to create a scene at someone's wake, she pushed past Sam and left the space with a word.

Dean stood frozen, he couldn't believe he'd run into her here of all places. The sight of her brought back a flood of memories and feelings he thought he had buried long ago. Despite the years and the changes, she was just as beautiful as he remembered. But then he wondered why was she here? Is she a relative? Does she know about the supernatural? Or worse is she a hunter?

He didn't know the answer to his questions but he knew one thing, that them meeting again after fifteen years was fate. And he'd be damned if he let go off her ever again. He'd do anything in his power to win her back because God knows he's been miserable since the minute he broke up with her. Without wasting another second Dean went behind her. He could see her going to the backyard and taking in deep breaths.

"Y/n." He said approaching her.

"Go away Dean.”

“Just hear me out once.” He pleaded.

“I don't want to hear any more of your lies." Her voice cracked as she spoke and Dean knew she was on the verge of crying.

"Lies? What lies?" He asked holding her arm and turning her to look at him. She shrugged her arm out of his grip and pulled away harshly.

"Maybe you have a bad memory Dean, fifteen years isn't that long of a time to forget about it." She snapped glaring at him. "Need I remind you of your lies? My mom died when I was four! She's inside I've seen her with my own eyes." She yelled. "I love you Y/n! And the very next day after breaking up with me I see you making out with some cheerleader. You don't do that to someone you love." She cried pushing at his chest. "You're a goddamn liar so leave me the fuck alone like you did that night at the park."

Each and every word pierced through him like a needle. It was worse than spending forty years in Hell. He knew he'd hurt her and deserved everything she threw his way, but hearing her think that he didn't love her—it just broke his heart. He never lied about his love for her.

"Y/n, baby please let me explain. I swear I'll tell you everything." He said holding her hand and she pushed him again.

"Don't touch me. And I don't need your explanations." She wiped her tears. "I'm not here for you I'm here for Asa." Dean felt a pang of jealousy at the late hunter's name and he wondered if they'd had something before he died. Is that why she's here. He completely forgot it's been fifteen years and there might be a possibility that she'd moved on.

"How do you even know him?" He couldn't but ask. His jealousy getting the better of him.

"That is none of your concern." She retorted sharply.

"Sweetheart please hear me out." Dean begged and she moved to go back inside but the doors were locked.

"What the hell?" She tried turning the doorknob but it didn't budge. The two of them were locked out. Dean tried pushing the door but to no avail.

"Hello Dean." Dean turned to see Billie standing there and she was smirking almost evilly.

"Billie what are you doing here?" He asked the reaper. And she told him she's here to do what she does. She's here to take everyone who's inside. Dean asked her what's happening inside and she tells him a demon's got them locked inside and something about vengeance. He had to save Sam, his mom and Jody. Dean tells her to open the door for him and let him go inside, she makes him a deal to never interfere in the natural order of things and he agrees as long as she lets him inside.

"Dean what the hell is going on?" Y/n was now scared. Although she was well aware of supernatural theoretically but she was in no way prepared to fight. And demons? She didn't know those were real too.

"I'll explain later." Dean replied as calmly as possible. "Billie, I need you to keep her safe, please." Dean requested and the reaper raised her brow.

"Dean, I can either keep her safe or let you inside. I'm getting one thing out of this deal, and you're getting only one too." His jaw clenched at her words and he was internally cursing her for being a bitch.

"Fine. Get us in." He begrudgingly told the reaper and she created an opening in the door. Dean turned to Y/n and cupped her face in his large hands. "We're going in, but you gotta trust me, sweetheart. Stay by my side and I'll protect you." Y/n thought he was completely out his wits asking her to go inside a place where there's a demon.

"Time's of essence Dean." Billie commented and he glared at her. He held Y/n's hand and before she knew the two of them were inside. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Sam, Jody and his mom alive, and even the others. Sam filled him in how the demon had cut off the water supply and locked all the doors. Y/n was terrified of being locked in a house with a demon but Dean held her close to him. His hand gripping hers tightly.

They all gathered in the living room to make a devils trap to trap whoever the demon was possesing and to keep themselves safe, being inside it.

"Dean who was that outside?" Y/n questioned her voice a quiet whisper.

"That was Billie she's a reaper." Dean replied moving her into the devils trap. She looked at him wide eyed.

"A reaper? The one that takes souls?" She questioned and he nodded. "You're acquainted with a reaper? What the fuck?" Before either of them could say any further Jody accused Mary of being possessed since her was last one to come into the room.

Sam and Dean tensed at her accusation of their mom being possessed but then Mary stepped into the devil's trap and moved out proving she's not it. Then Jody started cackling evilly, saying that was clever of Mary. With a flick of her hand she wooshed the trap, then she started attacking everyone one by one taunting them. She threw the twins across the wall and then slammed Mary in the door. She moved her hand towards Y/n but Dean pushed her behind him and the demon made him fly in the wall. Y/n was left unguarded and demon closed in on her. Sam neared them but possessed Jody threw him in the cabinet.

Y/n screamed as the demon neared her she inched backwards, her body trembling with fear. Dean watched as Jody wrapped her hand around Y/n's neck, he got up on his feet and pushed Jody away from her, not too harshly to not hurt his friend's body. He wrapped his body over her, shielding her body with his' and Sam started chanting the incantation to exorcise the demon out of Jody. The twins joined them and then Mary finished it off sending the demon back to hell.

The lights flickered back on and everyone was relieved at last. Y/n clutched Dean's shirt in her hands and hid her face in his chest. "You're fine..it's gone." He rubbed her back soothingly. "Hey sweetheart, look at me." Dean made her pull away slightly and placed his fingers underneath her chin making her look at him. "You okay?" She shook her head, no.

An hour later, Y/n was wrapped up in Dean's jacket, his mind drifting off to the first time he'd lend her his jacket and how it was their new beginning. He wondered if it was a sign of their another new beginning together. She sat on the hood of the Impala and the boys stood in front of her.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That?" She looked at Sam and Dean, while Mary and Jody watched their interaction for afar. "I mean I know werewolves and Vampires but demons? Reapers?" Dean grabbed her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of her hand.

"How'd you know about Werewolves and Vampires?" Dean asked softly and she told him how she was attacked by a werewolf and Asa saved her. And she researched a bit about the supernatural and Dean nodded in understanding. He shot Sam a glance and younger understood and left them alone.

"Sweetheart, I'll explain everything and I'll tell you why I left. You see I'm a hunter, my parents were too. I've grown up in this life. My mom did die when I was four. A demon killed her. My dad wanted us to find that demon and kill him. When I met you, I forgot all about it. I wanted to be a normal boy, I did love you with everything I had." She looked up at his eyes and they were sincere, different from when he broke her heart. It wasn't like he was holding back, or hiding something. "My dad, he didn't want you to get involved or me to lose focus. He told me that I should break your heart so you can move on with you life." Dean explained.

"I did move on with my life Dean." He shut his eyes not wanting to see the look on her face when she tells him she found someone else. "But I couldn't love anyone else. You made me question my worth, because, fuck it I was in love. And fuck you Dean for I couldn't have us."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make you question your worth, hell I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, I just wanted to keep you safe, away from this life. You aren't even back in my life for less two hours and look at this mess. I don't even want to think of what harm I would've caused you if you'd been with me all those years." He looked apologetic. "As for my mom, God's sister brought her back."

"Who THE FUCK?" She looked dumbfounded.

"It's long story." Dean chuckled. "All I'm saying is I've loved you this whole time and I only broke up with you because I didn't want you be in danger and because my dad said it was for the best." He rubbed the back of his head, half ashamed.

"Where's your dad?" She asked after few minutes of silence.

"He died, a few years ago." Dean replied gloomily.

"I'm sorry." Even if the man was the reason for her heartbreak she didn't feel good about him being dead. After all he was Dean's father. Dean nodded. "What now?"

"We could try again, that is if you want to. I'm tired of not being with you. I feel meeting you again after all these years, it's fate." Dean said softly. "And I still love you so fucking much." He rested his forehead against her.

"I still love you too, Dean." She whispered. The tension between them hangs in the air, heavy and charged. Without another word, Dean cups Y/N's face, his thumb gently brushing their cheek. There's a moment of hesitation, a breath, and then he leans in, capturing their lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is deep, intense, filled with all the unspoken emotions they've both been holding back. Dean pulls Y/N closer, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't say in words. For that moment, it's just the two of them, lost in the heat of the kiss. When they finally pull back, both breathless, Dean's forehead rests against Y/N's, his eyes still closed.

"Being away from you was worse than going to hell."

"As if you'd know what hell’s like." She replied rolling her eyes. Dean pulled away, his eyes filled with mischief.

"Oh I do, I went to hell, i was there for forty years."

"You're lying." She gave him a look and he shook his head.

"I'm not. I went to hell and then Castiel the angel pulled me out. Who by the way is now my best friend."

"SAMMY? HE'S LYING ISN'T HE??" She yelled to the younger Winchester and Dean barked out a laugh at her reaction. Sam didn't know what she was on about so he laughed too.

"You've got a lot of catching up to do, sweetheart." Dean said while helping her down off the hood. He threw an arm over her shoulder and dragged her towards his mom. "Mom this is Y/n. My highschool sweetheart." He said pecking her temple.

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Winchester.” Y/n said extending her hand for her to shake but Mary pulled her into a hug.

“Call me Mary. And welcome to the family.” She smiled. Dean grinned, watching the exchange with a sense of pride. Mary’s embrace made Y/n feel instantly at ease. Mary pulled back slightly, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name.”

“You have?” She questioned looking at Dean who looked away shyly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t around the first time.” Mary joked and Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

Dean stood by, his arm still around Y/n, feeling a deep sense of contentment as his worlds finally came together. He knew they still had a lot to talk about but he also knew that they were meant to be. It’s destiny. Now that he’s got her, he’s never letting her go matter what life throws at him. He’s finally home.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkness @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

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loko4koko · 9 months

Text

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Geto Suguru x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: xxgojoxx (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 1152

>contents: fingering (f!receiving), somnophilia (explicit and implied), explicit p in v, suguru calls you “good girl” and “baby” a few times, suguru calls you a “fucktoy” once, suguru has a big fat dick (but we all knew that)

“what are you doing?”

the hand slipping into the front of your baby blue cotton panties freezes, like a dog who’d been caught eating something they weren’t supposed to. did he think you wouldn’t notice? it’d be impossible not to; with a hand as big as his, it was like he was trying to sneak a fucking baseball mitt into your underwear.

“nothing. go to sleep.” suguru says, with the conviction of pinocchio telling someone the sky was purple. in other words, he is a goddamned dirty liar. his face is smushed into your neck, long hairs tickling the curve of your shoulder. he’s got you pressed against him like you’re planning to run away, back so flush against his chest that his heartbeat reverberates through to you.

you huff, trying to settle back into the sheets, into his hold on you. thankfully it isn’t hard, couldn’t be when he’s so broad, makes you feel so protected and cozy. you’re just getting back comfortable when that hand starts misbehaving again, creeping further into your panties. he doesn’t do anything, just lets his palm sit unmoving atop your pubic bone. it makes you squirm, his fingers are so close to where you’d normally be begging him to put them that you’re not sure how to take it.

“suguru.”

“what? i’m tryin’ to sleep here.”

“uh, no? no, you’re not.”

“am too. hands are cold. stop moving and go to sleep.”

he can’t see it, but he knows you’re scowling. you go to turn around in his arms but he uses that strong hand in your panties to grip your mound, long fingers splayed over your (slowly dampening) cunt. any words you want to say, any whines and complaints are stolen right from your throat by the man behind you. he uses that grip to yank your hips back from where you’d started to roll over, face leaving its spot on your neck to nudge his nose up against your ear.

“baby. i love you. go to fucking sleep.” his voice is riddled with a damningly arousing mix of exhaustion and authority; something that is entirely not helping when he’s already gotten so close to touching your clit that you could taste it. you don’t give him a response other than your silence, squeezing your eyes shut while you try to think about anything other than how deep his slender fingers reach inside of your- okaaay, that’s enough.

“s’my good girl. g’night,” he sighs, leaving a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear before his face is back to its residence on your nape. oh, what a cruel, cruel son of a bitch he is.

you couldn’t sleep for an hour and a half after that, wide awake and thinking about all of the other things you’d do to make suguru call you his good girl while he snores softly against you. occasionally, he’d shuffle a bit to adjust himself, and the hand in your panties follows suit, fingers brushing against your clit right as you’re about to fall asleep. safe to say, it was a rough night for your sleep schedule.

suguru is many things, and a tease is one of them. it’s 8:36am when you’re woken up, rousing from the dream state that only 5 hours of sleep had given you. it isn’t your own doing that wakes you, though. it’s the repetitive tap..tap..tap that you feel on your already sensitive clit. but then, it’s not just touching; it’s suguru’s husky voice in your ear, still colored with sleep and something dangerously lusty.

“-bet you’d like that, though. so fucking wet even in your sleep. i could just slip right inside you, baby..” the fingers touching your most sensitive parts slip lower, succeeding in their goal of spreading your pussy lips apart- not that it’d be hard to with how much slick is leaking out of you. his calloused middle finger finds its way inside of you, unhurriedly feeling around the hot, wet walls it burrowed in to. you have no response, eyes falling shut as your mouth does the opposite.

“you won’t be mad at me, right? if i put it in? give you my cock first thing in the morning? fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’…you awake?” his finger inside of you finds your g-spot in no time, massaging the spongy little spot with a very practiced ease. you can’t speak, only able to give the man behind you a nod. suguru tuts, smearing sloppy wet kisses across your shoulders and neck.

“good morning, my filthy girl. you like it when i touch your pussy while you sleep, huh? like the idea of me usin’ you as a fucktoy while you dream about me doing the same?” he pushes himself further against you at the same time that he adds another finger inside of you, grinding his cock against the swell of your ass. he’s at full staff, probably had been for a while—so fucking hard and so fucking hot that you can feel it through his boxers and shorts.

“cum for me and i’ll give it you, yeah? be a good girl ‘n cum all over my fingers, you can do it, baby, jus’ like that.” he’s thrusting those long fingers in and out of you now, much faster than your sleep-addled brain can even comprehend. your own hand wraps around his wrist, hips moving in time with him.

“‘m gonna cum, sugu, please don’t stop,” you whine, voice hoarse from being unused for so long. that knot in your stomach winds itself even tighter, whiny little gasps leaving you as he fucks his fingers deeper into you. it isn’t long before that knot is pulled too taut, before the dam breaks, and your nails are digging deep into his arm. the intensity of your orgasm has you fully awake now, no chance in hell that you’d go back to sleep after this. you were promised something, and you were gonna get it.

your breath is still coming out in sharp pants when he removes his fingers from your tight little hole, only moving them to find the waistband of your panties. he shoves them down unceremoniously, too worked up to keep wasting valuable time that he could spend making you cum all over his heavy cock. he gets his own boxer briefs down around his thighs and grips at the base of his dick, pre-cum staining the backs of your thighs as he finds his way to your cunt. you both gasp when he slips inside of you but he’s quick, leaning over to steal your lips in a kiss full of desire. when his mouth parts from yours, he moves it back to your ear, not even bothering to give you a moment to adjust to his much more than average size stretching you out.

“next time, i’m not waking you up first.”

>author’s_note: idk i’m just saying if i woke up to this every morning i’d get a lot more done in life 🧎suguru bae plsssss

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

#geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto drabble #tw: somnophilia #cw: somno

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megistusdiary · 9 months

Text

i feel like patrick from the episode where they go to sandy's house as i climb out of the trenches back to tumblr...send asks/thoughts

no notice, no "i'm back" post, just me returning and bringing you arlecchino thoughts 😻 need her so bad tbh. i can't fix her, but she could make me worse

there has not been nearly enough content for her or the other genshin girls... someone's gotta do it

also, i'm back on genshin (american server, ar 56) if anyone wants to play :]

mirror sex with arlecchino

dom!arlecchino x sub!fem (anatomy/pronouns) reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw pairing, fingering (sub receiving), clothed dom/naked sub, mirror sex, praise ♡, use of 'girl' in pet names, permission to finish

"such a good girl for me, aren't you?" she coos as you slowly sit down in front of her, your back to her chest.

a sharp nail traces itself across your jaw, tilting your head up and back over your shoulder to properly kiss her.

your own eyelids flutter shut, though hers stay open to admire the sight of the two of you in her ornate full-length mirror; courtesy of pantalone.

she steals your breath away as she uses her hand to squeeze your jaw open gently, opening your lips for her tongue to slide against yours. the sounds you make are muffled by her mouth as she smiles against your lips.

arlecchino only pulls away when you're out of breath and panting, and she releases your jaw to let your head hang forward, facing the mirror.

"ah ah, look up." she tuts, lifting your chin to face yourself in the mirror. she can feel the heat of embarrassment radiating from your skin as she has you gaze upon yourself, devoid of clothes as you sit between her spread thighs. the material of her jacket presses into your skin, cold clasps making you arch up a little.

she sighs, letting go of your jaw, expecting you to simply keep watching of your own accord. her hand traces down your neck, past your collarbones, over your chest, gently brushing over your nipples, lips quirking up when you practically keen at the feather-light sensation.

her nails rake down your stomach, resting on your hips before sliding to your thighs and patting one of them. "open," is all she needs to say to have you spreading your thighs over hers.

the image of the two of you together is art in her eyes, and she wishes she could have it framed...

she places two fingers against your glossy lips, fingernails you note have been cut short for this specific purpose. your lips slowly part as she eases them onto your tongue.

her fingers gently press against your tongue, rubbing lightly and pressing further every so often just to hear you gag. she delights in your little struggle as your hand comes up to grip her wrist, head tilting back slightly to look at her. after all, it only gives her easier access to tease your gag reflex.

few words are exchanged here, seeing as she's rather focused on watching you, and your mouth is, well, occupied.

she uses the pressure of her fingers on your tongue to push your head back down to watch in the mirror. once your eyes are refocused, she murmurs little praises into your ears, going right between your thighs as you whine softly.

she pulls her fingers from your lips, marveling at the strands of spit connecting to your lips before they snap. she guides them back between your legs, swiping them across your outer lips as you bite the inside of your cheek, watching her every movement in your reflection.

you gasp when she lightly taps at your clit, eyes narrowing slightly at your reactions she'd classify as rather endearing. you let go of her wrist awhile ago in favor of gripping the fabric of her pants instead.

arlecchino toys with your clit for a bit, seeing you squirm on her lap as you fight the urge to jump up with the intentions to sit and stay like a good girl for her.

she rewards you by pressing more firmly, rubbing tighter circles as she leans her head down, chin pressing against your shoulder as her lips graze the shell of your ear.

your eyes want to close so badly from the stimulation but you force them open, watching as she instead moves her thumb to your clit while her other fingers dip lower, collecting the slick gathering there.

"excited, aren't we?" she finally breaks her silence, smiling softly as she pulls her fingers up to show you just how 'excited' you are. it has you averting your eyes before she tuts, reminding you again to keep watching as she replaces her hand between your thighs, this time gently pressing in, teasing your clit to keep you relaxed.

she always starts with just one; unless you've done something to piss her off. then, of course, it's dealer's choice.

she lets you relax before she moves her finger, crooking it slightly before adding another, giving you time to adjust.

you've let go of her pants in favor of holding her wrist again. she almost wants to chastise you for it, but she can't bring herself to with all the cute little noises spilling from your lips. she simply continues to play with you, angling her fingers just so into that spot she knows you like.

your hearing is fuzzy as she praises you, soft little whispers of her voice in your ears as you arch further up, her jacket rubbing against you as you pant.

"close, close-" you warn her, though it's really just your fuzzy-brained way of asking her for permission.

"it's alright, come for me." she tells you softly. tears prick your eyes as she continues to press accurately into you, flicking and rubbing your clit with her thumb as she watches you in the mirror. at some point, your eyes have indeed fluttered shut, and she says nothing. she wonders briefly if she's gone soft, letting you ignore her directions and rules. oh, how she has spoiled you...

#arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #fem reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wlw #wlw x reader #arlecchino #arleccino genshin #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#genshin wlw

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