#it’s been almost two months since i got it and i’m just so angry with myself

[thepowerofswayze]

college art donaldson !!!

maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.

change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!

so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)

☆

beach trip

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch

summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.

☆

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”

You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.

When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.

What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.

Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.

Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.

Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.

Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”

Alright. That was your sign to go.

When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.

Art nodded.

Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.

It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.

More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.

Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.

You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.

Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.

He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.

“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”

Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”

Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”

The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.

“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.

“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.

The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.

Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”

You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”

He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”

“Alright, wanna try?”

Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”

You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.

You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.

He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.

When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”

“Hm?”

“Still scared?”

Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”

You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”

“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.

You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”

“What, don’t believe me?”

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.

“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.

He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.

You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.

“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.

You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?

… Maybe you were reading it wrong.

You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.

You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.

“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.

Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.

Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.

You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.

Fuck. Why did you run away?

When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.

You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.

The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.

You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.

Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”

You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.

Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.

You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”

He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.

You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.

“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.

You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.

He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.

Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”

You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.

His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.

When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.

You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.

“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”

That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”

He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”

Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.

You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.

He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.

You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.

Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”

He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.

With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.

Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.

You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.

With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.

Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.

Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.

Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.

And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”

He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”

You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”

You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”

“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.

[empressdede]

Disrespectful .

Chapter five

Nora and Sienna were both over the attitude that took over the life of London. She was angry at everyone in the world and she had nobody to blame but herself.

They’d already crossed those lines so what was the point of having morals now? It was a question she asked herself everyday. She regrets telling him that they should’ve ended it because she hasn’t had a good day since.

She blames Roman. It was his fault. She was fine until he came and ruined her. He gave her an itch she couldn’t scratch and it was driving her insane. Her sex toys could only do so much. And James…. James couldn’t even scratch the surface of her sexual desires anymore. Before, James was enough; he got the job done.

But after having a taste of what Roman gave her, why would she settle for just getting the job done?

The worst part is, it was her who cut off their secret rendezvous and she didn’t know how to deal with the cards she dealt herself and since she couldn’t get her fix, she released her frustration with almost everyone around her: Nora, Sienna, James and it was even worse for everyone at work since she buried herself at work for a distraction.

At first, Nora thought it that her little sister’s attitude was going to pass after a couple of days but its been going on almost three months now and Nora didn’t know how long she could take it anymore.

London wasn’t the only one who blamed Roman; Nora and Sienna did too. It became very evident to the two of them that whatever those two had going on was taking a toll on London. So both girls were taking matters into their own hands. Nora and Sienna were determined to make them cross each other’s paths once again.

Who was it really hurting that they desired each other sexually? What their partners don’t know won’t kill ‘em right? And after those words left Sienna’s mouth, the girls knew exactly what they had to do.

Which brings them to now: Nora sitting in her car in front of London’s house going over the plan with Sienna over the phone.

“I’m sorry Sienna, I just don’t think three days is enough days. You don’t think you can push it to two weeks?”

Sienna scoffed, “Girl how the fuck do you expect me to distract Tiara for two weeks? The best I could do is a week and even that is pushing it. And plus, you’re worrying about the wrong thing, go try to get her to agree to the trip first and we’ll talk longevity later.” Sienna suggested.

Nora laughed because she already came to her decision for the both of them, “If the best you can do is a week then I’m gonna tell her it’s a week trip because a little weekend trip ain’t gon do shit. So Figure out what to do with Tiara cause I’m ending this angry streak by the end of the this week.”

Sienna agreed and after they hung up, Nora got out of her car to walk to London’s door. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there but when she knocked on the door, she wasn’t really expecting to hear an argument behind the door.

Damn. London was hellbent on letting everyone feel her wrath.

When James opened the door, Nora took pity on the tired look on his face. But she only kind’ve felt bad for James in this situation; there wasn’t really much she could do when it came to those two anyways. She still flashed him a smile when he opened the door wider for her because unbeknownst to him, she was about to fix this problem.

“I’m sorry Nora, Now really isn’t a good time.” James tried but Nora held her hand in the air to silence him, she came here on her own mission and she wasn’t going to let James close the door in her face.

"Nonsense; seems like the perfect time to me. Where’s my sister?" She questioned but London let herself e known by her yelling.

"And just what the fuck am I supposed to do when you leave James? You knew I was going to take my vacation with you and now all of a sudden they need you of all people to go to an open house?"

Nora flashed him another smile before entering into the house to find her sister in the living room. "Well what’s going on in here?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was in the living room with clothes being thrown all over the place.

"She’s upset because she wants to take a vacation but I can’t. I haven’t sold any property in five months, I don’t want to pass up on the opportunity to bring home some money - I’m sorry."

“It would’ve been different James, if you had no idea of my plans, but you fuckin knew!” London argues, dismissing his attempt to apologize.

“Babe I can’t just drop everything just because you want me to.”

“So you don’t wanna go out with me even though you make your own schedule?”

James let out another sigh and walks away from the living room, this argument was going nowhere and he was tired. London scoffed as she watched James walk away, ignoring her question. She couldn’t believe this was even an argument.

“Talk about a coincidence.” Nora states with a smirk on her face.

The statement caused London to turn around and face her sister, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Girl what the hell are you talking about?”

“Girl, I literally came here to ask if you wanted to take a sisters trip to Houston. Just you and me playing catch up, ya know?” Nora explains and shrugs at her sister. “What better time than now huh?”

“And since when you been thinking of this?” London questions.

“ I seen how stressed out you’ve been lately and I want to help you, I hate seeing you so stressed out. Plus…” she steps closer to her little sister and lowers her voice so she wouldn’t be heard. “I know you don’t really want to spend an entire week with James right now, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves okay?”

It really didn’t take a lot of convincing on Nora’s end to get London to agree to go out. As horrible as it was to admit, her sister was right… She really didn’t want to go anywhere with James; but he’s been claiming how weird she’s been with him, and she wanted to do to something to make up for her bad mood swings. She couldn’t help it though, she needed an outlet to let out her frustrations.

She’s more than thankful for her sister coming to the rescue. Hopefully this trip could get her mind off you know who.

Unbeknownst to London, Nora was quick to send out a text to Sienna to let her know that the plan was going as planned so far.

we’re good on our end, Get started on your end.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman was confused when he got a random call from Khalid asking him to get away for a while. It wasn’t like him to isolate himself, but he can only guess him and Sienna were into it because Tiara had told him that Sienna had invited her out to New York for some kind of fashion week.

He originally decline, but Tiara convince him to go; stating that Khalid just needed a friend, the same way Sienna needed a friend. So here he was, in Houston, Texas, at a Ritz hotel, wondering what in the world could Sienna have done to make Khalid supposedly so angry.

“So what made you run away?” Roman asked during their game of call of duty.

Khalid raised an eyebrow at the random question. “Huh?”

“How come you’re in Texas and Sienna’s in New York? What made y’all run 1500 miles away from each other?” Roman asked again.

Oh. Right. Khalid almost forgot his wife sent him here on a mission.

“How do you know she’s in New York? I thought she was back home.” Khalid questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“Tiara caught a flight to New York a couple hours before I flew out myself, She’s the one who told me they were going to New York. Anyways, you didn’t answer my question; what made you run away? Why are we in Texas instead of Florida?.” Roman questioned him again for the third time.

Khalid wondered if he presented Roman’s own problems, if he would catch on. “I’m in Texas because I need space to think about our relationship. I don’t wanna hear any speeches or anything but… I cheated on Sienna and I think she knows.”

Khalid paused the game and turn to face Roman to continue spewing out bullshit. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Roman nodded his head because he understood - sometimes life doesn’t happen the way you expect it to. “Unfortunately, I know how you feel.” Roman reveals and Khalid raises his eyebrow in faux shock.

“You cheated on Tiara?”

“Something like that. I’ll take my faults, it’s wrong because I’m married but there’s nothing wrong with exploring for a bit; as long as you find your way back home. At least that’s what I did.” Roman confessed.

“If you could go back in time and take it back, would you?” Khalid questioned and the heavy silence that took over the room really answered his question but Khalid wanted Roman to really get it off his chest. “It’s just between you and me bro… do you regret it?”

“No.” Roman finally answers, but the look in his eyes is very distant, almost as if he was lost in thought. “I know I don’t sound like a committed husband but if I had the chance to do it again with the person who I did it with; I would.”

Khalid let out a hum and nodded his head to let Roman know he was listening. And he was, that confession was all he needed to move forward with his wife’s plans.

______________________________________

London, let herself relax in the hotel bed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the silence of the room helped her feel so relax. If only her mind was as quiet as the room; her mind going to the one man who couldn’t escape her thoughts matter how hard she tried.

She hasn’t seen him since that last dinner because she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stand on business. London was a prideful woman, she was never going to admit how much she regret her decision on cutting him off.

Why the fuck do you keep thinking about him anyway? This has to stop. It’s what she’s been telling herself for these past couple of months and she still couldn’t do it.

She finds herself missing him in the weirdest times. If she’s in a boring meeting, she’ll reminisce on the time where he text her to keep her entertained. If she went out to to eat, she missed his endless compliments or even the risky freaky shit he would pull with her, like fingering her under the table when the waitress came back to ask if everything was okay. She especially missed the sex… damn did she miss the sex.

Roman took his time to learn her body, he found out what she liked and he even introduced her to new things that she found herself loving. Sex with Roman was always exciting; especially when he would fuck her in places where she usually wouldn’t let herself do those kinds of activities: in her office, backseat of his car with or without his chauffeur… almost one time in the locker room - Roman never cared. If he desired her, he was going to to have her and she missed the feeling.

Missed feeling desirable, missed the funny moments between the two of them… she missed her friendship with Roman. He was her friend first and she missed her friend.

“Okay girl; I’m over this little rut that you’ve been having. It’s time for us to go out and shake some ass, Let’s go!” Nora exclaimed when she busted into London’s room.

“What the fuck do I look like going to the club to shake some ass as a married woman?” London questioned with a confused look on her face.

Nora scoffed and rolled her eyes, “When did being married mean you can’t be outside and shake some ass?”

London let out a tire sigh, “I just wanna relax. Maybe call a masseuse to give us a massage. I’m away from home and I’d really like to enjoy it.”

“You’d really enjoy it if you stop fighting me and go out with me.” Nora retorted and London sat up and squinted her eyes in suspicion at her older sister.

“What you got up yo sleeve Nora?” She questioned, getting straight to the point.

Nora exhaled and walked towards her sister to take a seat on the bed. “London, I know you won’t talk about what’s bothering you and I respect that; can you just respect that it hurts me to see you like that? I’ve been taking care of you for the longest, I always know when you need a break, why don’t you just let me help you?”

Albeit everything she was saying was true, Nora knew she had to lay it on thick for London to agree to go out with her. London’s eyes scan Nora’s face and took in her expression, the sadden look in her sister’s eyes is what made her drop her shoulders in defeat.

“Fine. But if I’m not enjoying myself after an hour; I’m leaving.”

Nora flashed her blinding smile, nodding her head to agree with her conditions “Great! I’ll go get ready and you can meet me downstairs okay?” She didn’t even let London respond as she rushed out of the room in excitement. London, huffed as she let herself flop backwards onto the bed, she just hope she doesn’t regret this.

______________________________________

After London finished getting dressed for her night out with her sister; she stood in front of the mirror touching up on her make up as she thought about ways she could convince her sister to let her come home early.

Her phone going off, snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to see who was calling: Nora. “Hello?”

“Hey, did you leave your room yet?”

“No, I’m about to leave though; I’m coming downstairs right now.” London explained.

“Before you come downstairs, can you go to my room and grab me a pair of sandals? I forgot to grab it.”

“Why can’t you just go and grab it?” London asked in annoyance.

“London, you’re already upstairs; can you just please?” Nora begged and London let’s out a groan before agreeing.

“Great, my room is on the fifth floor, room 26. I think housekeeping is still cleaning the mess I made so just knock okay?” And without any other explanation Nora hung up the phone.

She’s been so demanding since we got here, I thought she wanted me to have a good time? London thought to herself. The entire elevator ride to the floor above hers she thought about what the fuck was going on with Nora in the first place.

The last time Nora took London on a sister trip, it was to break the news that she was getting a divorce. What type of bad news did she have to break to me now? She wondered. Her mind was running through all the possibilities of what could have her sister acting so weird while she off the elevator to look for room 26.

She let out a small huff because she was drawing a blank, she’ll just have to ask her sister why the fuck she was acting to weird when she got downstairs. She knocked on the door and waited for housekeeping to open the door.

Didn’t she give me her keycard? London asked herself, she remembers them giving each other keycard when they got here. Before London could give look in her clutch to search for the hotel keycard, the door finally opened and when she looked up she felt all the breath in her lungs leave her body.

“Roman?” She breathed out in disbelief. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.

Roman himself froze as he stared at the woman in front of him. There’s no way she was standing in front of him right now. “London… what-“ he trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say.

It’s been almost three months since they last seen each other, the feeling of shock is what keeping them frozen in their spot.

“What are you doing here?” London finally asks, her mind racing because seeing him did nothing but resurface those feelings she was reminiscing about earlier. Did he have a show here? She questioned. That could be the only reason he’s here right?

“Khalid brought me here. Him and Sienna are going through it.” He answered.

Nora set me up, she brought me out here and set this whole thing up.

Everything was making sense, because even if Khalid and Sienna were going through it, Khalid wouldn’t have left Florida. They set her up, and her body was yearning to just touch him.

“You know they set us up right?” He states, and yeah. If she was going to be pushed in this direction anyways, she didn’t give a damn about the consequences anymore.

“Are we going to take advantage of the opportunity?” London asked softly and it wasn’t something the two had to really think about. They’ve denied themselves what they really wanted for long enough, and if their friends were going to push them into each other’s arms, who were they to fight what everyone else thought they needed too.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman and London lost themselves in each other like they usually did, but the feeling wasn’t the same as it was before.

What was so different about tonight?

There was something more profound than lust and sexual tension lingering in the air between them. When Roman pulled her into the room, their lips immediately push against the other and instead of the fast kissing they were used to, it was slow…sensual.

When they broke apart they stared into each other’s eyes. The lines of their friendship was blurred with the unexplainable feeling they were feeling for each other in the moment, they couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was exactly.

But it’s what made London grab his neck and pull him back down to her. Their lips brushed against one another’s and the hesitation made London pull away but Roman made the choice to close the gap between them. London’s helpless moan slipped from her lips and she melted into the embrace, pushing her body against him as if to make them one.

The taste of him was intoxicating, it was one of the things she missed about him.

Roman led the two to his bed, and London made herself comfortable in his lap. Her hands caressing his shoulders and eventually moved her hands over his strong arms as their lips smothered each others again.

Chills ran through her body when he trailed his hands up her thigh to grip onto her ass, that’s when she knew this was real. She’d fall victim to daydreaming - especially when her and James were trying to get into it but she’d always come back to reality. But this… this was reality. James never touched her like that.

His hands were roaming her body as if taking in this moment would be her last. Her body was vulnerable to his touch, and she could hear her heart beat drum in her ears.

The sweet feeling of his warm body mixed with the throbbing between her legs radiated more than a positive feeling of intense pleasure of her brain. She didn’t know if it was possible to feel the way she felt at the moment: fuzzy at the brain, and warm at the heart.

They didn’t want to rush the moment, especially since it was something her sister wanted to bless them with. Upon seeing her outfit, he fell into their old routine.

“You look like an Angel.” He softly murmured in her ear before he started undressing her. “Most beautiful thing on Earth and It’s all for me isn’t it?”

And there it was, that feeling she was missing rushing back into her lungs almost as she deeply inhaled his words, that feeling of wanting to feel desirable. That feeling from earlier returned but it wasn’t a feeling she could identify at the moment so she focused on the feelings she could.

At the impulse decision of the moment, their bare bodies touched each other’s. As soon as Roman was submerged within her, she swallowed up some of his thick inches with pride and contentment. Undoubtably, her eyes flickered to the back of her head, her lips separated, and her back arched off the bed and pressed to his chest. Being so close to him, was enough to send her body into a frenzy of different emotions. Not only because it felt so good, but because it was him. Because it was Roman.

There’s synchronized movements were coupled. London’s fingernails, digging into his back and the sound of her soft moans only seasoned the moment for the both of them. She pulled his head between the crook of her neck and let her heavy pants fill his ear.

At her own allowance, she caught a sweaty grip onto his arms and extended her legs wider to pull him in deeper than before. She wanted all of it, all of him. She wasn’t holding back on taking anything he was willing to give her; she’s gone long enough without it.

Their lips met again, and while he sucked on her tongue, she let out whimpers of pleasure into the air. Roman had to give himself a silent, prep talk to encourage himself not to cum too fast, it’s been a while since he’s been in her and her wetness was driving him crazy.

He knew what she wanted without her, having to ask for it. The passionate quickening of his strokes, promoted her to tango, her legs around his torso. Her arms in case themselves around his neck; she held onto him for dear life. Her cries of pure delight escalated be on guidance. He fucked her soul into oblivion like he’s done before. She would have never imagined herself calling out God’s name, but she did just that, screeching to the heavens, while she let that dick dominate her cloudy mind and rock her entire existence into a temporary state of belief.

Without any separation between them, they painted all of their essence all over the bed. Roman could feel her in every pulsing vein in his body until he’d consumed all that was left of her.

They were both so lost in the moment that it didn’t register to either of them that a condom was initiated and neither of them seemed to care when Roman groaned into her ear and emptied himself in her. It only made London tighten her legs around his body and keep him trapped in between her legs and she welcomed the feeling of his fluids filling her up.

Never again. She wasn’t letting Roman leave her ever again. If this was wrong, she never wanted to be right. Ever.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Whew😩 this chapter went exactly how I wanted it to. I’m sorry it’s such a long read😩 I just couldn’t break it up. You guys won’t wait that long for the next chapter 😭 I promise.

As per usual please comment and gimme some love 🥹💙

Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @christinabae @2-muchsauce @alichesmi @pitlissa22 @sassginawanmills @harmshake @po3ticb3auty @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @dershalover89 @serena004 @reci1996 @scarlettnoir01 @kill-the-artiste @southerngirl41 @badbitchcentralinc @reignsboy19 @mzv11 @cyberdejos2 @msbigredmachine @msniaimani @skyesthebomb @wanderingreigns @katymae12344 @bebesobrielo @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01

[szczylpierdolony]

wishing i never tried to get an autism diagnosis

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

[ravenslvt]

imagine best friend leon comforts you after a break up but it turns south 🤔🤔🤔😛, soft sex is what he gives you

☆ bsf! leon x female!reader ☆

bestfriend! leon comforting you after a break up

☆ content warnings: smut , mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating ☆

leon groans as he hears a knock at his door. the clock read 12:53am. who was coming over this late?

he stands up out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on. he opens his front door, yawning.

all his annoyance completley dissipates when he sees you all teary eyed on his doorstep.

he says your name in concern, you just look up with the saddest look on your face. it sent a pang to his heart to see you like this.

he immediately figured it was your (asshole) boyfriend who was constantly flaking on you and (he assumed) was probably even cheating.

“sorry, i wasn’t sure if you were awake and i didn’t wanna call and-“ you start to ramble. he sighs, bringing you in to hug his bare chest. you didn’t mind, you’d seen him shirtless before. you’ve been bestfriends for almost four years.

“it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything.” he shushes you. he finally brings you into his messy apartment you’d been in countless times, but this time felt different.

“i just feel so fucking stupid. it was so obvious the whole time he was a dick i just was so delusional.” you’re on your second glass of wine now that leon had brought out for you two. he figured it would be nice to talk about your feelings and vent to him. you sit facing eachother on the couch in his living room.

you’d been with your (now) ex-boyfriend for only eight months. but leon always fucking hated the guy. he would always get mad when you would hangout with leon, thinking he had a crush on you or something, which he totally did.

you stopped crying now, you were just angry for wasting so much of your time with such a joke of a man. leon didn’t blame you. he let you rant.

“god, it didn’t help he fucking sucked at sex too. seriously he lasted like two pumps then knocked out. for EIGHT months!” you weren’t lying.

“you’re joking” he laughs, shifting in his seat on the couch. he never even bothered to put a shirt back on since you got here, still only in his baggy grey sweatpants.

“i’m serious. never made me cum once. he never even ate me out, said it was ‘too gross’ ” you scoffed, remembering how it was always about his pleasure and not yours. you felt leon’s eyes on you.

his eyes darkened.

his thoughts raced. that asshole never even ate you out? he’d kill to even touch you like that.

you noticed him go silent, one of his hands resting on his own thigh and the other arm was resting around the top of the couch.

“leon-“

“fuck that guy. seriously. any guy would be so lucky to even be allowed to be with you, to touch you.” leon’s voice is quieter than usual, but loud enough for you to hear. it felt like he was holding something back.

maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the supressed feelings for your bestfriend, but your eyes scanned him, suddenly consious of his shirtless state. how good his bare chest looked. how firm his muscled stomach was. how good his waist looked in those pants. his fucking arms.

and the way you could fully see the outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

your eyes shot back up to his face. only to see him staring at you.

“like… you?” you gulped, awaiting his response. you could see him thinking, practically hearing the gears turn in his head. he sighs your name, looking away.

“i-i can’t. not when your in this state.” he rubs his face with his hands. god his hands were big.

“leon i-“

“no, i like you way too fucking much to mess this up” he looks back at you, a genuine soft look in his eye.

you smile, he’s too sweet for his own good sometimes. you sit up straight, scooting closer to him.

“leon. i promise you, i want you.” you bring a gentle hand to cup his strong jaw.

his hands reach for your face, he uses one to brush a stray hair out of your face. he brings his forehead to yours.

“do you know how badly i want you? how long i’ve been waiting for you? you fucking kill me everyday i have to go without you.” he speaks lowly.

he leans in slowly, giving you a chance to pull away. but you don’t. your eyes flutter shut as your lips connect.

he starts the kiss out paced, allowing your lips to adjust to eachother. your hands go straight to his shoulders for support. you were afraid you’d fall over onto his carpeted floor.

“leon…” you panted his name between kisses, giving him an opportunity to greet his tounge in your mouth.

“what is it pretty girl?” he never pulled back as you two spoke, addicted to your lips.

“want you… need you, please” you practically whined into his mouth. he just smirked, giving you one last kiss before pulling away. you pouted for a second before he started to kiss down your neck slowly. exploring and biting until you showed him your sweet spot.

he bit your pulse point, making you softly yelp.

your hand automatically goes to the waistband of his sweats, but he stops you, swatting your hand.

“no, this is about you. ignore me” he warns.

“but-“ you pout

“no.” he sternly says, pushing you so your back was against the couch cushion, he was now on his knees between your thighs. you were going to argue, but seeing him like this brought no complaint from you. you were never used to this. but god were you excited.

he teasingly removes your shorts, leaving kisses in their wake. you gasped from the feeling, being left in your black panties. they had a little rose at the top center, making him smile.

“cute” his thumb goes over the rose, then moves over your clothed clit. you softly gasp and your hips automatically buck up to meet his touch.

he scrunches your shirt up, kissing your pelvis, then your stomach, and pushing your bra up to bring a nipple into his mouth. you squirm under him, already so needy for him. he pulls away with a pop.

he slowly reaches his hand into your already soaked panties, a look of suprise on his face.

“this all for me?” he nudged your sensitive clit with his knuckle. you suck in a breath, nodding.

he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your panties down while he continues rubbing your clit, rolling it between his fingers.

once they’re off, he stares down at your bare pussy, absolutely entranced.

“s-sorry. he only liked it when i was shaved” you looked away from him, a bit self conscious. you try clamping your thighs together.

he scoffs “what a fucking weirdo” he says before forcing your thighs to stay open with his strength. you always forgot how strong he was since he was always so gentle around you.

he moves his head to hover over your needy cunt, your thighs now around his shoulders. he looks up at you “is this ok?”

you nod.

“yes” you say. he moves in an instant, his hot mouth devouring you.

“fuck, leon!” you moan, covering your mouth with your hand. the other one gripped his dirty blonde hair.

his lustful eyes look up at you as his tounge works expertly against you. he studied your reactions, repeating the actions that made you squirm the most.

your thighs squeezed against his head, but he didn’t mind. he fucking loved that he was making you feel like this. his dick was raging in his pants, but he ignored it. tonight was about you. he’d make it about you everynight if he could.

he thrusted his long tounge into your hole, pumping it as he circled your clit with his nose. you almost screamed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter by the second. he shakes his head in a motion, teetering your orgasm.

you started to shake, almost drowning him in your wetness.

“i think i’m gonna-“ your thighs were so tight around him he swore you were crushing his skull. he quickens his mouth, the most pornographic noises coming from your pussy.

you let out the most delectable moans as you cum all over his face. he keeps licking and sucking until your shaking stops and you’re just panting, trying to push him off from overstimulation.

“s’too much” you pant, grabbing at leons hair. he finally pulls away, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. your face was completley flushed and eyes lidded. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. you moan as soon as you taste yourself on his tounge. (your ex was wrong, you tasted fucking great)

you feel his hard buldge against your thigh, your brows furrow and a heat fills your gut. you reach out your hand to rub him through his pants. he lets out a needy groan, rutting into your hand. a wet patch growing in the front of the grey sweats.

“f-fuck. keep doing that and i’ll have to keep going, baby” he warns, but you didn’t stop. you keep eye contact as you rub the head of his cock through his sweats, the fabric adding extra stimulation. it twitched in your hand and he grabbed your wrisy, stopping you, though he didn’t want you to stop.

“i don’t wanna take advantage-“ he starts, but you cut him off before he can finish, rolling your eyes.

“leon stop. do you know how many dreams i’ve had of you fucking me? we’ve already gotten this far, so if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna walk out that door and-“ this time he cuts you off with a kiss, you smile into the kiss. you feel him smile back.

after a minute or two of sweet kissing, the moment gets heavy again. the kiss gets deeper and more messy.

you couldn’t help it, you slide his loose sweatpants off his figure and have to look down.

oh fuck. he was big.

he noticed your eyes widen and cheeks flush, his ego inflating a little.

“that’s not gonna fit, leon” you look back up at him, absolutely in awe of the man’s gorgeous cock. the tip was a raging pink color, it was curved upward like it was begging to be touched. precum sparkling at the edges.

he chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“oh yes it will”

he sits back up on his knees, dragging your legs twords him and grabbing one of the pillows from the couch, patting your hip to tell you to lift it so he can slide it under.

he gives himself a few more pumps, even spitting on his cock for extra lubricant, though you were already so wet he could probably slide in easily.

he lines himself up, looking up at you for one last chance for you to back away, but you just shimmy your hips to try and get him to put it in already. he takes that as a sign and slowly slides in.

you tense up as soon as the tip is in. he leans down, giving you a peck on the lips before rubbing your hips.

“relax, pretty” he sooths. a few more seconds and hes sinking in a little more, little by little he brings himself to a point where he can’t push in anymore. he was balls deep in your sopping pussy.

he waited a few moments until you were moving your own hips for some more stimulation.

“there you go, look at you.” he teases, pulling out almost all the way, only leaving his raging tip in before thrusting it back in. your back arched off the couch and he gripped your hips tigher. you felt heavenly.

all you could think about was how good his big cock felt inside of you. gently slamming in and out and in and out and in and out.

“more” you plead, looking down to where you two meet, there was a noticable buldge indented in your stomach from where his cock was in you, making you whine.

“of course” he whispers, leaning down to cage you in his elbows, throwing the pillow from under you somewhere across the room and instead using his strength to slam into you. your arms held him around his neck, one pulling at his hair unconsciously. your legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to go faster.

you’re both panting as you lean up to kiss him again. it wasn’t anything like your first kiss with him. it was all tounge and saliva and mess. but it was perfect for the moment.

you could feel him so deep, it felt like he was growing even bigger inside of you. you felt a familiar build up in your belly, the need of release. you pull away from the kiss to breathe. he lowers his head to suck your tits in his mouth, alternating between them and occasionally biting them gently.

“leonnn!” you moaned his name over and over as his pace got faster and faster.

he was holding back his own orgasm just so he could feel you clench around him.

“fuck, i wanted this for so fucking long, baby. you’re so-fuck- so perfect.” leon was losing his composure more and more by every thrust inside of you. your walls started to clench around him, making his face scrunch up.

you came around him, squeezing him, your nails dragging down his strong arms, leaving redish pink marks in their wake.

he just chanted your name mixed with compliments-how perfect you are around him, how pretty you are, how you were made for him.

“w-where can i-“

“inside, leon, please!” you whine, all you can think of is his cock dragging in and out of you.

he spills inside you with a groan, hips sputtering. he lays on top of you, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you.

“s-shit are you…?” the realization hits him that he just came inside you.

“i’m on the pill” you assure, softly smile at him, both of you breathing heavily at this point.

he smiles back, kissing you and slowly pulling out, making you whine, he tucks himself back into his sweatpants, an obvious stain on the front of his pants.

he gently pulls your shirt back over your tits, but not before giving them a soft kiss each. you giggle at him.

“are you feeling ok? do you need anything?” he asks, stroking your head and fixing your loose hairs. acting like he wasn’t just fucking your brains out.

you nod, giving him another peck on the lips, this time he pouts when you pull away.

safe to say, you were over your ex.

a/n: raven try to write soft smut challenge: impossible. lowkey got carried away but i hope u like it!!

thank u for the request i lovedddd writing this mwuah <3

[her-favorite]

CLUELESS; M. STURNIOLO

DAD!MATT STURNIOLO X F!MOM!READER

warnings: (toxic)baby daddy!matt YUPPP (except with a happy ending bc i can’t help myself)

a/n: requested! i gave the daughter a random name bc typing “y/d/n” gets annoying lmao, i also kinda added more detail to it (and a happy ending bc angst makes me sad) but i hope you like it anon!! <3

wc: 2,570

SYNOPSIS: Matt made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship with you, but how does he react once you tell him you’re going out for the night?

-

Matt broke it off with you, it was his decision entirely.

Since you have birth to Angelina, it was said that Matt wasn’t ready for an official relationship. At the time, you had been angry; you had a few month old baby in your arms as your boyfriend proclaimed that he wasn’t “ready for something so formal.” As months pass, you’ve grown used to the situation, handing your daughter back and forth with the father of your child as you minded your business and he minded his.

Today was Friday, and Matt had texted you a few days ago that he was going to come by to pick up Angelina so she could visit Nick and Chris. You complied, given it was also a perfect opportunity to get out for once. Usually, when Matt has his daughter at his place, you stay in and relax, something you’re not necessarily able to do with an almost two year old around.

Today you decided to go to the bar… information Matt was not expecting.

When you heard the annual three knocks on your door, you made your way towards it and opened it. “You have a key, Matt, you know how to get in.” You say as usual, walking back into the bathroom to finish putting in your earring. You were already dressed up, nothing too crazy, but still comfortable enough for you to wear out.

“Why are you all dressed up, mama?” Matt leans against the open doorframe, his blue eyes raking over your body before watching you in the mirror. His arms were crossed over his chest, accentuating his taut biceps in the tank top he was wearing, accommodating to the nice weather outside.

“I’m going to the bar.” You reply shortly, turning around without looking at him as you walk by. Before he could get any sound out his mouth, your daughter sprints out of your room (too busy playing with her box of fake fruits that Uncle Nick gifted her), looking for her father.

“Daddy!” Her sweet voice distracts Matt as his eyes drift down, meeting hers. She has a cute smile on her face as she extends her arms up towards him.

“Hi, babygirl.” Matt smiles wide as he leans down to pick her up, resting her on his hip, placing a stabilizing arm underneath her. Placing kisses around her face, sweet giggles fill the air, quickly placing a smile on your face just from the sound.

As Matt makes his way over to you, he watches you gather your things. Rocking her slightly on his hip, he speaks up, “What’re you doin’ at a bar?” He tried to sound as neutral as possible, but the edge in his tone was clear. Immediately picking it up, a sigh escapes your lips. You glance back at him, noticing how Angelina was too busy playing with her father’s horse necklace to pay attention to what her parents were saying.

“What do you usually do at a bar, Matt?” You reply sarcastically, giving him a look. With a clench of his jaw, he keeps his eyes on you, occasionally falling down your body to watch your legs sway by each other.

Licking his lips, he averts his gaze and looks back over at you. “Are you meeting someone there?” His voice became heavy, jealousy seeping through.

Matt’s always been possessive, not too an unhealthy extent, but enough that even a stare towards someone that had romantic feelings for you got the hint. You used to love it, it felt safe, like he was protecting you. But ever since he called it off (and with Angelina), he’s had no reason to be jealous because neither of you had any time or reason to be or hookup with someone else.

His sudden dose of questions doesn’t surprise you, but they did start to get on your nerves. He was the one who didn’t want to stay together.

“Does it matter?” You respond, grabbing your phone as you turned to face him. You notice the way he tries to hide his irritation, either for Angelina’s benefit or for yours. There was no use if the latter was the case, you knew him inside and out. “When are you coming back with her?” You decide to change the topic, your voice back to normal, trying not to let his curiosity get the better of you.

Exhaling softly, Matt licks his lips again as he answers, “Nick was actually wondering if you’d wanna come over Sunday; said he misses you.” He never stops his slight movements with his daughter on his side, soothing her into unconsciousness.

As the words leave his lips, it made you realize how long it’s been since you’ve seen Nick and Chris. You did miss them; they were your best friends. But being as busy as you were with a little girl, you barely have time for yourself, let alone to hangout with your friends. You’re hoping today will ease your anxiety of going out again.

Nodding your head, a soft smile curls at the end of your lips. “Yeah, that sounds good.” You accept the invitation, the thought of seeing the other two boy’s lifting your mood.

“Cool.” Matt’s answer was short as he watches your reaction. He’d be lying if he said seeing you happy didn’t make him happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted for you, he was just always scared he’d never be the one to give that to you. But, now, with you going out to the bar, potentially meeting someone else…

“It’s getting late so I’m gonna head out.” Your voice interrupts his thoughts as he blinks. Swallowing dryly, Matt nods and tightens his hold on his girl, grabbing the bag you pack for her every time Matt came by to pick her up.

“Yeah, I should probably get back, anyway.” He replies, trying his best to go along with your statement, despite the uproar of jealousy burning up his body. He slings the bag over his shoulder, taking steps towards your front door.

Before he leaves, Matt turns to let you talk to your daughter. “I’ll see you soon, Angel.” You kiss her cheek, smiling as she giggles softly. “I love you.” You whisper close to her ear, knowing how much it tickles her. More giggles fill the air as she playfully swats at you, her tiny fingers resting against your nose. Pressing a peck against her small palm, you let go of her as she immediately reaches for Matt’s necklace again.

“Say, “bye, mama.” Matt rocks her gently, looking down at her. Angelina’s bright eyes look over at you, waving her hand dramatically.

“Bye, mama.” She repeats, her words slurred slightly, clearly just a few seconds from sleep. You laugh softly at her attempt, waving back at her. As Matt turns to leave, he opens the door, but not without a last glance to you.

“Have fun tonight, Y/N.” He says, catching you off guard. Exhaling through your nose, your shoulders lose their tense position, watching Matt watch you. Your eyes swipe between his, trying to read him. For the first time, you couldn’t. It made you feel anxious, like you were doing something wrong. No, he’s doing this on purpose, he knows how to get under your skin.

“Thanks, Matt.” You reply shortly, keeping your face neutral as you spoke. With a curt nod from him, he turns and shuts the heavy door behind him. Sighing as you can’t help yourself, you walk over to the window, watching him walk away. You notice the way he entertains Angelina’s babbles as he buckles her into her carseat, exaggerating his reactions to make her laugh. As he rounds his car, he takes his seat in the driver’s side and turns it on. With a glance towards you, he notices you staring as he sends you another nod before putting the car in drive and pressing on the gas.

Maybe you shouldn’t go out tonight…

-

That same sentence repeats itself in your head as soon as you step foot into the busy bar.

It’s only been a couple minutes since you walked in and you already regret it. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been in this sort of setting and you’re far from getting used to it. You’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t plagued with thoughts of Angelina and Matt. You know how good of a father Matt is, he’s just… complicated, it was something you just had to live with.

As you sat at the bar, you pondered whether you should get a drink or not, knowing you wouldn’t be able to drive home if you did. Getting lost in your thoughts was easy as the people around you entertained themselves.

“Hey.” A voice broke you out of your reverie, your head snapping in the direction beside you. A man seated himself on a chair next to you, a half-empty glass in his hand.

Swallowing dryly, you reply, “Hey.” You couldn’t remember the last time someone tried to flirt with you, given you’ve spent so much time with Angelina and Matt. Once your eyes met his, you almost gasped at his appearance. He had dark brown hair contradicting his blue eyes, bright skin a familiar shade. He looks like Matt…

Redirecting your gaze, a quiet sigh escapes your lips, thankfully being drowned out by the loud music. Silently waiting for his next words, your fingers tap anxiously against the top of the bar.

“I was just wondering what a pretty girl like you was doing sitting alone.” The stranger replies, a smirk forming on his face. Exhaling softly, you ignore him, contemplating your options. Matt would never start a conversation like that. A voice inside your head yells at you to stop comparing other people to Matt, knowing that a habit like that could get destructive.

You needed to go home.

-

Sunday morning comes around as you sleep in, taking the empty house for granted. When you had gotten home Friday night, it was easy to fall into a routine of making food and watching tv, deciding to take your free time to relax instead of go out. Maybe it just wasn’t for you.

A few hours later, your make your way over to the triplets’ house, putting the car in park as you unbuckle your seatbelt. It was a little past four as you knocked on their door, waiting patiently for someone to answer.

“Y/N!” Nick’s voice blared as soon as the door creaked open, enveloping you in his arms almost immediately. With a soft laugh from you, you wrap your arms around him, relaxing in his hold. “I missed you so much, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He says, his tone more dramatic than needed, making you chuckle.

“I missed you, too, Nick.” You smile, stepping into their house and up the stairs. Smiling once you see your daughter, she reciprocates and giggles loudly, alerting Chris. She rests on his lap as his legs bounce lightly, previously relaxing her.

“Y/N!” Chris smiles, looking over at you.

“Mommy!” Angelina exclaims, trying to get over to you. Chris picks her up and walks over to you, handing you your daughter before hugging you softly, making sure he doesn’t crush Angelina.

“How’ve you been, ma?” Chris asks, his voice soft. He grew into the habit of calling you that ever since he found out you were pregnant; you slowly got used to it.

Entertaining his small talk, you feel Angelina play with the neckline of your shirt, her tiny fingers just barely tugging on the fabric. Chris stands with his arms crossed, listening to your words, occasionally interrupting whenever a new thought popped into his head.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here?” Matt walks out from his room once he hears his daughter giggle, not expecting for you to be here already. Nick had made his way back up next to you, joining your conversation, not without periodically getting annoyed at Chris.

“‘Cause you were too busy brooding in your room.” Chris replies, a smile that’s been on his face the entire time never leaving. With a scoff from the other brother, Matt gets closer to you, reaching out to tickle his daughter gently. With a cute giggle in response, his mood quickly switches as he watches her.

Once Nick announces that he needs to grab something from his room (to get away from the conversation he held with Chris), Chris immediately follows him, his words never stopping even when Nick groans in irritation. As they walk upstairs, it leaves you, your daughter and Matt together.

“So, how was the bar?” Matt breaks the silence as his arms cross, his jaw subconsciously tightening. He waits to hear your answer, his blue eyes raking over your reaction.

“It was fine.” With a vague answer, you knew it upset him, but you wanted to figure out why. You notice the way his tongue licks over his teeth, his short nails digging into the soft skin of his arm.

“Did you meet anyone?” His question lingers in the back of your mind as you walk a few feet to sit down on their couch, shortly after feeling the cushion beside you dip as Matt took his seat next to you.

Hesitating, you exhale softly trying to figure out how to reply. You could be unclear and not give him a definite answer, or you could be honest and finally tell him how you truly feel. You knew waiting any longer would just make things worse..

“No.” You reply, looking over at him. Matt tries to hide the look of shock on his face, but you noticed it before he fixed it. “Because I was too busy thinking about you.” You mutter, looking down at your daughter in your lap as she fidgets with your fingers.

Matt sat still, watching you. He’d be lying if he said he was expecting you to say that, too engrossed with the idea of you meeting someone else and forgetting about him. His chest moved faster than usual, your sudden confession taking him off guard. “You were thinking about me?” He asks, his voice coming out softer than intended.

With a nod in response, you keep your eyes on your girl, too nervous to look at him. Your eyes widen slightly when you suddenly feel his hand grasp your chin, making you look over at him, his tattooed arm holding you tightly.

“You were thinking about me?” Matt repeats, his blue eyes boring into yours. You knew this game he played; if he ever asked you something important and you didn’t verbally answer, he’d make sure you did either way.

“Yes.” You sigh, swallowing thickly as your nerves heighten. His tough façade slowly breaking as a small curl tugs at the ends of his lips. Rolling your eyes, a small smile overtakes your mouth as you try to look away from him.

“Look at me, baby.” His voice was raspy as he caught your attention, mindlessly following his words. “I know I’ve been difficult and these past two years have been a lot, but,” he takes a second to think, trying to find the right words. “I was an idiot for never treating you the way you deserve, mama. I promise I can do better this time.”

And who were you to say no?

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: angst ig

gn reader

Gojo has loved you forever.

When the two of you were toddlers, he was never shy about kissing you and holding your hand. It was only when the two of you began school that he was taught that it wasn’t proper – a schooling that made him frown.

But his love for you never dimmed despite it. Growing up, he became nothing shy of a true bully pulling his crush’s pigtails. He’d flash his six-eyes and limitless techniques and tease you for your subpar cursed energy – often rescuing you like a faux knight in shining armor.

But despite acting like your older brother – he’s really been dreaming of you in carnal ways ever since he first found out what sex was.

Which is why he’d sling his arm around your shoulder when you were talking with other guys – having grown up so tall, he’d have to all but bow in order to level with the small fries – a sly smirk on his lips with his shades low on his nose.

“Ah – I didn’t know you had a boyfriend – I’m sorry.” They’d always stutter – feeling the chills of those icy blues pierce through to their bones.

“Ugh, Gojo – get off – you’re too heavy.” You’d argue in a familiar whine, shoving at his lanky shape – already fuming. “He’s not my boyfriend – he’s just a dumbass with no respect for personal space.”

“Oh – I’m more than that~” He’d insist. “Y’know, we got married on the playground when we were six.”

You’d roll your eyes at his attics. Huffing out a growl at him. But no amount of clenched fists and angry brows could hide the embarrassment. And ultimately, no guy really dared try their luck with you after being introduced to the white-haired childhood friend giving them death glares.

Which is why it’s baffling when he finds out about the wedding.

He’d seen you less and less over the years. He’d been busy as the newly awakened honored one – new missions almost every day. 

You’d capped out as a second-grade sorcerer and decided to become a teacher in Kyoto – sent out on missions every now and again, but mostly just to supervise students. 

He’d been glad you settled on something safe and not something you’d sooner end up being killed – like him. But he wasn’t overly fond that you’d chosen Kyoto over Tokyo where he could keep an eye on you.

But he supposes that’s exactly why you’d done it.

He knows he coddles you – knows you’ve always hated it – knows you hate it because you know he’s right to do it – knows you’d be dead if it weren’t for him.

How could you marry someone else? How could you choose anyone other than him?

He doesn’t respond to the invite. Doesn’t answer when you call. 

He’s gone for several months. 

You know through the assistant supervisors that he’s still accepting missions – out on the prowl, killing curses – doing little else.

You try to deny knowing why he’s upset. You love him like family, but he’s always been a child with too many toys – you, one of them. This is him throwing a fit over someone else taking what’s his.

But you know he’ll come to his senses after cooling off. You know he’ll be at the wedding – all smiles – if not happy, then pretending for your sake. 

In all his strange ways, you know that he loves you. And despite being childish, you know he’ll do the adult thing and let you go.

The two of you would never have worked. Which is why you’ve never given in to his googly eyes – that hand on your thigh when the two of you’d been drinking – that lingering stare resting on your lips – and those silver-toned words on his.

He’s with someone new every other week despite his unfair hold on you – keeping you for himself – placing you on a shelf among the other things he hopes he’ll one day grow into – like a pair of shoes bought a size too big.

But you know he’ll never get there. He’ll never mature enough to hold a relationship for any longer than a month or so – never mature enough to settle down somewhere and not hotel-hop from one five-star to the next – never mature enough to respect you the same way he respects himself – never mature enough to commit to anything but himself.

The two of you could never be a couple. You could never love each other in the ways you want to be loved. He would want you to stay at home and wait for him to come back – longingly as a sweet housewife would – and you’d want him to encourage you in your respectful career – happy for you like a supportive husband would. None of it matched.

You love him, but you would never be happy with him. You would never feel respected. 

So, that night when the two of you’d shared a kiss – you’d held him at arm's length and told him it was a mistake – that it would only serve to ruin your friendship. 

He’d taken it as you being flighty – just a cute road bump before you’d finally realize you were meant for him – before you’d come running to his arms with pretty tears dropping from your eyes while throwing yourself at him – all apologies and confessions and desperate kisses – telling him you couldn't live without him.

But there you are…

Walking down the aisle for someone else.

[meo-on-prairie]

Deserve Better

Prompt: After a shitty breakup, involving a douchebag of an ex, who makes you realize he never loved you to begin with. You went to your best friends for comfort, but instead of telling you “you deserve better”, they show you the best you deserve. 

Word count: 1786

Tags: FLUFF, a tablespoon of Angst, hurt and comfort, Gojo and Getou being sweetest boys, satosugu established, satorugu x reader not yet, mention of: manipulation and love bombing.

Rambling: This is an extremely self-indulgence fic, heavily inspired by my shitty ex lmao. I just wanna be sandwich between Gojo and Getou to comfort my angry heart :((. This is a mini series, I wanna able to make this series to be compose of a bunch of stand-alone fics that merge together. This is my first time writing after a long while so… 

//////

“He was a pathetic liar!” you shout as soon as Suguru opens the door. Tears are streaming down your faces and you can’t seem to make them stop. The sight of your face full of anger and sorrow quite nearly broke Suguru’s heart. Oh, how he wished he could erase your pain. Not make your pain go away, no, he wanted to erase it from your life completely.

Satoru walks toward the door after hearing the loud commotion, “what did he do this time?” he said knowing exactly who was responsible for your tears. With all honesty, Satoru is only asking for your sake, if he could have it his way, violence is always the answer.

Satoru and Suguru are used to this, it’s been 2 years of this clockwork. Ever Since you start dating your pathetic boyfriend, Anthon, it been a cycle of you venting to them about your relationship problem, them telling you to break up with the fucker, and you “work it out” with the douchebag, who can only tell lies and empty promises, the next day and all is good for about 1 month. It’s the same cycle of them clearly seeing that you are being manipulated, yet unable to do anything. But then again, what can they do? They’re only your friends, nothing more even if they want to be more, and as friends, the only thing they can do is be there for you.

Anthon was your first love, your glasses were not tinted, it was dyed rose-pink. You loved him with everything you got, always there to support him mentally, emotionally, and even sometimes financially. In return, he would love-bomb you with constant, nonstop, overly cheesy affectionate words. He also made a lot of promises to you: of marriage, of spoiling you, of being a better man for you, of being faithful to you; all of which are empty and meaningless in hindsight. They’re so meaningless in fact that it led you to break-up with him 2 weeks ago.

You were tired of his empty words, so you laid down your boundary, you told him you would never want to marry someone who refuses to find a job to support themselves. His answer? “Why can’t you be nicer about these things? Your words cut deep”. Anthon was a man of nothing, he had nothing but his words, and even then he couldn't even keep them. But you loved him, so you put it all aside, all his actions, all his shortcomings, his unwillingness to change for himself; you put it all aside and waited with baited breath, surely, surely…. Surely he’ll do as he said. He never did. 

“Come in first, the night is cold, I don’t want you to get sick” Suguru ushers you through the door and into their apartment. As Suguru guided you toward their living room, Satoru went into the kitchen to grab some tissues, water, and something for you to eat your feelings away. 

As soon as your body touched the soft velvet material of their couch, you crumbled into Suguru’s arms. He pulls you in closer to his body as yours shakes and heaves, you two sit like that for what feels like an eternity as you let the tears that carry your pain and sorrows fall from your eyes. Your hands balls up Suguru’s shirt as you cry in his embrace, you try to control your sob but it only makes your body shakes harder, almost hyperventilating.

“Shhhh, take your time, let it out. I’m here… we’re here… we’re not goin’ anywhere”

“He said he loves me! He said he wanted to marry me! And not even 2 weeks after our breakup, he’s getting his dick wet and telling another girl he loves her!” you choked out in anguish, still in denial that any of this is real.

“How did you find out about that?” Satoru asked, carrying a tray full of food; after hearing your sobs, he decided that a few snacks wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Because the fucker doesn’t even have the decency to keep it private, he been posting her all over his social media!” you swipe out your phone in frustration, pulling up Anthon’s account to show your two best friends the picture of your ex and the girl sitting on his lap, kissing. 

They both make a face when you show them the picture, “gross” they said in unison as Satoru places the tray on the table and sits down on your other side.

“I’m just so angry, I can’t believe I wasted 2 years loving someone who never was truthful to me! How can I be so stupid?” your tears are boiling hot, they feel like acid on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look at me, you’re not stupid for simply loving someone.” Satoru cups your face with his hands, nudging you to face him, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. You close your eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. It’s comforting to be held so gently.

“That’s right, don’t shame yourself for being strong enough to love someone with all you got. That’s a strength, not a weakness.” Suguru agrees, pulling a couple of tissues from the box and handing it to you. 

You take the tissues from him to wipe away the tears and blow your nose, it was getting a little hard to breathe from crying, “Thank you… It just hurt realizing that even though I loved him, he never loved me; at least, I don’t think someone who loves me would go out of their way to hurt me like this. Him posting her and rubbing it in my face not even 2 weeks later makes me feel like… I just wasn't worth loving…”

“You’re right, someone that loves you wouldn’t hurt you like he did. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. To us, you’re worth all the love this world has to offer…” Suguru whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder, and he means it. God, does he mean it. Satoru can see it in his partner’s eyes, the same feelings he has.

Satoru and Suguru have loved each other deeply since they were kids, but they always feel something is missing in their relationship. When you walt into their life when they were 15 through the door call “physic group project”, they thought something was wrong with them. They still very clearly love each other, their love is still burning, but their hearts forget how to beat when you smile at them.

How can they not fall for you? You’re kind, so kind you would push aside your shyness and discomfort to help those that need it. You’re intelligent, you quite literally carried them through that physics group project. And dear god, the way you just fit perfectly into their dynamic makes them realize very quickly that they desperately want you to be a part of their life. So desperately, they couldn’t bring themselves to tell you about their feelings in fear of scaring you away from them forever.

“Tell you what? Let’s watch some true crime documentary that you like so much since you’re secretly a sociopath, maybe they’ll give you the inspiration of what to do for revenge?” Satoru said with a smirk.

“If inspiration striked you, we’ll be your executioners.” Suguru added, smiling in relief seeing that you're feeling better after letting it all out. You let out a small giggle and nod. 

Satoru turns on the TV and searches for “Unsolved” while Suguru goes to grab the three of you a blanket. When Suguru comes back with the blanket, you get comfortable cuddling between the two of them on the couch. Between Satoru’s jokes about how if he was the detective case wouldn’t have gone cold, and Suguru’s soft chuckles of ‘sure babe’ at his boyfriend’s comment,you start to feel a lot better. 

You have always felt the most at home with them. It felt natural to be with them, Satoru’s humor brings laughter into your day, Suguru’s gentleness makes you feel safe. They ground you. You’re starting to wonder why you were even with the dirtbag when you have best friends who show you how you should be treated. But before you can think more on that, drowsiness takes over you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. With how hard you were crying and the emotional turmoil you experienced, it would be more surprising if you stayed awake. Satoru looks over to the sight of your sleeping face. He squeezed Suguru’s hand he been holding behind you on the headrest of the couch.

Suguru looks over at Satoru and notices where his gaze was directed at. “I don’t want to see her like that again. She deserves all the sunshines life has got to offer, not heartbreak” Satoru whispered softly. 

“Do… you think⸻” Suguru started

“Yeah.” 

It’s a silent agreement between them. They’re done with watching you on the sideline. They’re done with seeing you in pain. They don’t want to be afraid of losing you anymore if it means they have to leave your happiness in the hands of some other dudes that’s not them. In the hands of someone that doesn’t know how to cherish it like they do. 

Suguru gives Satoru’s hand 3 long squeezes, I love you. A soft and silent affection flows between them. You always joke that they’re each other's twin flames due to how they seem to be sharing the same soul; their ideology, way of thinking, even how they feel. They’re so similar despite different personalities it’s uncanny. But they think that if they’re each other’s twin flame, then you would be their soulmate. 

They let go of each other's hands so Satoru can carry you into their guest’s room. Well, they call it that but the color and decorations they have in it are all catered to your liking, plus no one beside you ever stays the night anyway. 

Suguru opens the door to the room for Satoru. They laid you down and tucked you in. 

Suguru went into the bathroom to get a damp face towel. He softly wipes away your streaks of tears so you can sleep comfortably without feeling the stickiness from your tears. 

They closed the door as quietly as possible so they don’t wake you, not before glancing at you one last time. 

Looking at each other, eyes full of love and determination, they silently vow to each other. They’re going to make you fall, sweep you right off your feet. They’ll treat you like you’re their most prized treasure. You’ll fall for them so hard, you’ll forget you’ve ever loved anyone but them.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

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[bradleybeachbabe]

Ok so there is a serious shortage of Tim Bradford stuff on tumblr and the gasp i gusped when i saw you were taking requests was very big.

So how about him being his usual hard and grumpy self and his pregnant wife coming to the station angry about something and him turning into a big softie. Like she’s almost scolding him about something and the others staring like ‚who is this man?‘. Obviously Angela knows what’s up but the rookie are like 🫨

Thanks so much!!💗

here you go anon <3 hope i did you justice on this! also i really enjoyed writing this!

warnings: pregnancy, not beta read

a/n: i haven’t posted in blurbs in forever, so please bare with me on this!

you have been angry at the slightest things lately, whether it being how hot it is outside, not being able to put on your shoes, not having your favorite ice cream in your freezer, etc. the list could go on, and yet it could be to the fact that you’re seven months and half pregnant, because ever since you entered your third trimester the slightest things have been making you angry. and now you’re even angrier than you have been throughout your third trimester, and it’s all because the air conditioning has decided to stop working in your house, so with that being said you have decided to head down to the station to tell tim, your husband, all about it.

when you arrived at the station, you were lucky enough that you didn’t have to wait in the front lobby of the station for tim to come out and talk to you. the officer who was working at the front desk knew who you were, so you were able to just go to the back where all of the officers’ desks are, to find tim.

when you entered the back, you were lucky enough to find tim sitting at his desk, talking to angela about whatever. when you were walking over to where his desk was, angela spotted you.

“looks like you got some company,” angela nodded her head toward your direction.

tim turned his head and saw you waddling towards him.

“i’m gonna give you two some privacy,” angela said as she left tim’s desk and walked over to where john, lucy, and jackson were standing.

“who’s that?” jackson quipped when angela approached.

“tim’s wife, y/n,” angela answered.

“tim has a wife?” lucy, john, and jackson all asked at the time.

“yeah, they have been married for about three years now. and of course, they are now expecting their first baby in a few months.”

“wow, i did not know that,” lucy said.

“yeah, tim tends to keep his work and personal life separate,” angela said.

“hmm…now i’m wondering why she showed up to talk to tim,” lucy said.

“honestly, whatever it is, it’s gonna look good on his end,” angela smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“what are you doing here?” tim asked with a confused tone when you approached his desk. “is everything okay? is the baby okay?” he added.

“no, everything is not okay. the bright side is, that the baby is okay.”

“well, what’s wrong then?” tim asked.

“what’s wrong is that the air conditioning has stopped working at the house, and now i’m super hot, sweaty, i'm upset, and especially angry because of that,” you explained.

tim just looked at you with soft eyes. he felt bad for you. he hated seeing you angry and upset. he knew how irritated you could get whenever you’re hot.

“i can try and fix it when i get home later today,” tim stated.

“what time will you be home?” you questioned him.

“maybe around five, it all just depends if i can get all this paperwork done before that time.”

“oh,” you frowned.

tim sighed, “you want me to leave work right now, so then i can fix the air conditioning? don’t you?”

“please.”

you already knew what tim’s answer was gonna be. he wasn’t gonna, ‘no’ or anything like that. plus, if he did, most likely he would end up sleeping on the couch for the night.

“okay, i’ll leave right now,” tim said. “let me go inform sergeant grey that i’m gonna leave early.”

tim got up from his seat at his desk to head to sergeant grey office. and when he did get up, he quickly kissed your temple, and quickly laid one of his hands on your bump, before he walked off.

while you were waiting for tim to get back from sergeant grey’s office, you saw out of the corner of your eye, angela and by the looks of it, three rookies standing with her. the three rookies had shocking looks on their faces while angela couldn’t help herself from smirking. you already knew why angela had that smirk on her face. she already knew that tim has a huge soft side, and that soft side is only reserved for you, and your baby who is gonna be born in a few months. on the other hand, the rookies didn’t know tim’s soft side at all, so of course all of them had shocking looks on their faces.

“sergeant grey is okay with me going home early today,” tim said as he approached you.

“did he ask why you’re going home early today?”

“yes,” tim nodded his head.

“did he think your reason for leaving early was kinda odd and crazy,” you asked.

“yeah,” tim nodded. “but luckily he isn’t giving me a hard time about this,” he added.

“well, that’s good then.”

tim turned off his computer and pushed his desk car in, and you two walked out hand in hand with each other.

“told ya,” angela said as she walked off. while lucy, john, and jackson were still standing there with shocking looks on their faces, trying to gather the pieces together that tim has a soft side.

blurb night!

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined. 

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.” 

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry. 

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.” 

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform. 

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.  

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you. 

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.” 

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close. 

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped. 

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night. 

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk. 

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you. 

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not. 

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of  Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him. 

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes. 

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?” 

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs. 

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat. 

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.” 

Yes.

“Yes.” 

He doesn’t waste any time. 

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.  

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs. 

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down. 

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes. 

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him. 

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder. 

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders. 

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good. 

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite. 

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away. 

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression. 

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in. 

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it. 

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute. 

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive. 

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference. 

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them. 

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.  

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck. 

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you. 

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds. 

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest. 

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.” 

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole. 

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing. 

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.” 

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table. 

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?” 

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you. 

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady. 

“You’re hot.” 

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

 He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs. 

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself. 

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.” 

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there. 

Then he starts moving. 

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.  

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that. 

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive. 

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars. 

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.” 

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk. 

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you. 

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it. 

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you. 

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.” 

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.” 

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.” 

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

[missviviii]

a/n: shsusbsihsw i can’t— this idea has been plaguing my mind 😭

.

“A Duel For Your Hand.”

warning(s): swearing

summary: mizu knew you ever since she was a child. you two were friends, and she grew feelings for you. one day, you had to move. until one day, you saw her again, and complained to her about how your father was marrying you off to some noble.

mizu x fem!childhood crush!reader

——————————————————————————

Long ago, when you were just a young lady, you befriended a child just your age. An outcast, but you still talked to her. Your father was a swordsman, and one that has received a blade from Master Eiji. Your father respected Eiji, often times still visiting the old man for memories and to train with him.

You were never really close to your father, but you were close to Eiji. Often times, when your father was away for business, you’d be staying with Eiji and helping alongside him here and there.

One day, you ran all the way to Master Eiji’s place to show him something cool that your father had given you. You opened the door, only to find another child around your age, a little bit shorter, holding large iron tongs while Eiji was doing his thing.

“Master Eiji, guess what my papa got me!—“ You looked over at the other child, who was staring at you very closely and almost surprised. What’s a pretty, young lady like you doing here? You were dressed nice and seemed to be far too delicate to be around sharp blades.

Eiji held up his finger, then motioned for the child to hand him the tongs. “I see you have ran all the way from your home to show me…let me guess, another hair pin?” You eagerly nodded, running over to his side and squealing about the gift your father had given you after he had returned home from whatever business he had.

“So..who are you?” You curiously asked as you turned around to face the child, who was still looking at you in awe. You noticed her blue eyes, which seemed to be so clear and mesmerizing. They were like the color of the water—so blue and pretty.. Noticing that she was staring, she cleared her throat.

“M-Mizu. Uh, I’m just staying here..” Mizu said as she scratched the back of her neck. Oh god, was she falling for you already? Well, why wouldn’t anyone—you’re so pretty and you look like an angel in her eyes.

Days turned into months. Then months turned into years. Each time that you could go down to Master Eiji’s place, you’d always be a ball of sunshine with something to talk about. Whether if it’s some hair pin your father gave to you, or a new skill you learned, you’d always talk about it to Mizu. That was until you had to move away.

Here you are, mumbling and grumbling in the cold weather while stomping your feet in the snow. Now you were a grown woman, and one that was forced to learn all the arts of being a ‘perfect wife’. You threw the charms in your hair and the hairpins to the ground, frustrated that your father had set you up with a dumb, old nobleman. You had to excuse yourself from the room and immediately ran outside to attempt to calm yourself.

“Damn, angry much?” A voice spoke out from behind you. You turned around, your first instinct was to throw one of your hairpins at the person. But they caught it with two fingers, just inches away from their eyes behind those tinted glasses. The person smirked, pulling down the tinted glasses to reveal their blue eyes. “My god, is this the treatment I get when I finally find you again?”

That voice. It was Mizu! Absolutely delighted, you immediately gasped and ran over to her, immediately tackling her into the snow while hugging her tightly. She chuckled, hand on your back while you wrapped your arms around her waist while wailing. “I missed you so much! Oh my god, you can’t believe the bullshit my father is putting me through!” Mizu only smiled, sitting up against a tree while you sat in front of her, complaining and wailing about how your father’s trying to marry you off to some man! That part made her a tad bit pissed off. A beautiful woman like yourself being married off to someone certainly not worth your time? Fuck no. Is she going to duel this guy to perhaps steal you away instead? Yep.

“Seems like you want out of this, right?” She said after you finally stopped complaining, now just curled up beside her and leaning against her arm. You nodded immediately. You now just noticed she has grown. You used to be taller, but now she’s the taller one! And my god are her hands—wait, are you growing feelings again? “I want to see this man. I’m going to kill him, you’re not marrying some snobby asshole today.”

Much to your annoyance, Mizu had fought her way through your guards and marched on into the estate with ease. You followed after her, trying to get the guards to stand down but they won’t and Mizu ends up knocking a few of them off. More mess for the cleaners to deal with. Until she kicks down the door to the room your father and that suitor was in. “My god, this is the guy? You couldn’t even find a suitable man for your daughter?” Mizu groaned, rubbing her temples in annoyance before she pointed her blade at the guy. “I want to duel you. For her hand, of course. Don’t worry, your loss will be swift and it won’t hurt all that much considering how you have no real talent.”

“You? Some beggar boy against me? Princess, do you have any idea how stupid you are?!” The man yelled, standing up and kicking over the table. Your father glared at you, also yelling at you how unladylike it is so choose white trash over a real man.

Ah, that ticked Mizu off, and you already had a feeling this guy was about to get his ass whooped.

Nothing better than to sit on a rock in your backyard, watching in amusement how your drunk, clearly reeking of alcohol and a snobbish piece of trash of a suitor was holding a sword against Mizu. Mizu stood there, circling the man carefully while her blade was pointed right at him, waiting for him to strike.

One, two, three You counted down, and Mizu strikes just as you hit three. You watched very intently, leaning forward as Mizu absolutely decimated that poor man. “Beat his ass!” You loudly yelled to cheer on Mizu, in which you received a slap on the back of your head by your father, who wasn’t at all happy. Mizu glanced over at you and smirked, determined to win your hand in marriage.

“Got you,” Mizu casually said as she swung her leg out and tripped the man, making him fall face first into the snow while the tip of her blade rests right beside his head. He groaned in pain as his body collided into the snow and grunted, yelling about how Mizu was no man, but a monster from hell.

“You did it! I mean, of course you did!” You loudly shouted as you ran over to her side, pulling her into a big hug while she wrapped one arm around your waist. You looked up at her, finding a small smile on her lips before she kissed your forehead.

“You’re mine now, Princess.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: sishwjsibesjhsbs

[jishyucks]

Crayon Confessions – njm

‣ pairing: na jaemin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, f2l/co'workers'-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids… and you guess, Jaemin. That would make it three, but he falls under that second category; alternatively, in which you weren’t really planning on developing feelings for Na Jaemin but seeing him work with kids all the time at the local community centre is making it damn hard not to.

‣ warnings: genuinely don't think there's anything, low-key rushed ending

‣ an: this is honestly not my best but FINALLY MY LAST PART OF THE SERIES IM CELEBRATING YIPEEEEEE—yes i know this is set in december and its now may but it's bc this was supposed to be posted during the holidays 😭 my dumbass overestimated my capabilities and school got in the way but all that matters is that i actually finished a 12 part series?? patting myself on the back,, ANYWAYS to those who actually followed my series I thank you so much. PLS ENJOY THIS! <33

Series Masterlist

You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids. And within the past few months, Na Jaemin has been fighting his way to the top of that list despite (technically) fitting under that second category. 

The more time you spent with him, the more you were able to make out that Jaemin obviously wanted to make a name for himself rather than being lumped into a handful of men—and you didn’t like it.

You’ve only known the guy just shy of six months, having chosen to volunteer at the community centre since July, and he’s managed to shimmy his way into your life like it was his purpose. And it makes you angry because he was perfect—perhaps as perfect as the dozens of fictional men you’ve crushed on.

Only Jaemin wasn’t fictional. 

In fact, he was sitting two tables away from you, helping the kids spell out the words they needed to include in the holiday greetings cards. 

“You’re staring again.” 

Giselle presses her lips into a tight line to keep her laugh from bursting out. 

Your eyes widened, trying to recollect yourself when you realized that you were, in fact, staring at Jaemin, “Was I being obvious?” 

Giselle hums, tilting her head to muster up an answer, “Mm… a little?”

“Not a little. A lot.” 

You and Giselle turn to Lily, one of the kids you’ve both grown close to over the past few months. You raise a brow at her, “Aren’t you supposed to be making these cards?” 

Lily snickers and goes back to her given task of colouring a poorly printed Santa Claus. You turn back to Giselle, who’s already offering an apologetic look because kids are blunt. 

“Okay, you were more than a little bit obvious but that boy was too oblivious to notice,” she shrugs, “I think, at least.” Giselle taps the pile of finished cards against the table to line them all up before placing them again at the centre of the table.

You groan, tempted to bang your head against the shared table in front of you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” Giselle snorts, “But I really don’t think he saw you. He’s too busy with the kids.” She nods her head in Jaemin’s direction and your eyes follow without a second thought.

The sight was one you’ve seen countless times yet it still makes you swoon every time you lay eyes on the scene. Jaemin’s perfect smile is etched on his face as he leans over one of the youngest kids, fixing the way the boy is holding the marker. The boy lets out a little giggle, reciprocating the smile on the elder’s face.

“Look away before you lose yourself again,” Giselle teases, using her index finger to turn your face away from Jaemin’s direction. Giselle immediately notices the way a look of sheepishness replaces your charmed expression. She pats your shoulder, almost coming in the form of a push, “I bet if you asked him out he would say yes.”

“I’ll only ask him out if I’m sure he likes me back,” you whisper. “I have literal receipts of clues that he does like you back,” Giselle threatens to pull her phone out despite your organizer discouraging the use of any devices during the shifts. 

You shake your head, head mentally raking through all the times you Jaemin had made you feel like sinking into the hard cold cement. “Those were just times I was overthinking everything… I’m sure he’s just naturally nice.”

“Well, he is naturally nice,” Giselle nods, “But you can’t tell me that all the things he’s done were done solely to be nice.” Giselle leans back on her chair and narrows her eyes at you, “He’s too old to be on Santa’s list anyway.” 

“I don’t consider holding the door open for me and bringing me hot chocolate that one time as clues.” 

One of the other little girls pushes an unfinished piece of paper and the small baby safety scissors your way. By reflex, you pick it up from where she started having trouble, snipping away the excess paper before handing it back for her to glue onto construction paper. 

“How about that one time he walked you home?”

“He said he was going to his grandma’s—” you counter.

“Could’ve been an excuse,” Giselle shrugs, “Real reason could be he wanted to spend time with you without having to ask for it.” 

“I was wrong. I think you’re the delusional one here,” you narrow your eyes and tap your feet against the floor underneath you. Jaemin was Jaemin. Soon after meeting him, you caught on to the fact that he was naturally playful, almost coming off as a flirt to everyone he encountered. 

“I’m not being delusional,” Giselle rolls her eyes and leans in closer to you so that whatever comes out of her mouth next can’t be heard by anyone around you, “Do you want me to list everything that’s happened between him and you over the past few months? ‘Cause you’re asking for it.”

You shake your head, already knowing which ones she’d list. Giselle already told you that if she could, she’d make a PowerPoint presentation of Top 10 Jaemin and Y/N Moments for fun, but you were lucky that she had been swamped in both school and volunteer work to even start it. 

“You’re acting like I’m not the one who’s told you these things,” you blink, “And like I said, any of them could be a product of delusion.” 

Giselle peeks over at you through the corners of her eyes and smirks, “Oh, but there are ones that you haven’t seen that I have…”

And just like that, Giselle has all of your attention. It’s like she’s grasping it with the tips of her fingers, playing with it to tease you. 

“Like?” You gesture for her to begin, not wanting to waste a single passing second.

Another kid at the table holds up her card for Giselle to see, “Miss Giselle, how does it look?” 

Giselle’s eyes light up and she smiles, “I love how you coloured the tree, Nari! Do you need help cutting it out?” 

Nari shakes her head, “I’ll try myself first.”

Giselle nods, “Sounds good to me!” Then once she’s sure that Nari is back and busy with the paper tree, she turns back to you, “Do you want it in chronological order?”

Your brows furrow, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

She hums and begins, “You know how you came when me and Jaemin have already been here for a little while?” 

You nod.

“Well, Jaemin, every single day since we both started, kept his things in that one corner locker. He told me once he hated the other lockers with a passion but never really told me why. It was actually hilarious because there was one shift when Jisung came earlier than he did and he snatched it before Jaemin and Jaemin told him off,” Giselle snorted, recalling the memory, “It was stupid. I remember telling Jaemin to let the boy be, but he was… territorial? I don’t know how to word it.” 

“Where are you going with this?” you say impatiently.

“I’m getting there,” she huffs, “Anyway, when you came, you were stuck with that one locker at the top, right?”

You nod again.

“I remember you kept complaining to me about hating the locker—”

“It was too high for me to even reach the hook!” You say.

“I know, but that’s beside the point,” Giselle laughs, “My point is the very next day, Jaemin came early for the shift and instead of taking that corner locker, he claimed that top locker despite his usual one being free. It’s been that way ever since. Now you always take that corner one.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘And?’” Giselle’s jaw drops, “Don’t you see? He was territorial over a damn locker and when you came along, he went out of his way to move lockers just because he saw you were struggling with the top one.” “He’s just being ni—”

“Do I need to remind you that Ningning, who’s shorter than you, literally complained about the same thing and he didn’t do shi—” Giselle catches herself from swearing, remembering the setting, “—Anything to help her?”

You don’t reply and Giselle takes this as a sign to continue, “Then, there have been those days you come to a shift tired because you’ve been awake since dawn because of your eight AMs, right?” You don’t do anything but blink and Giselle continues, “I’ve seen that man go out of his way to take up some of your harder tasks just so your shift is easier and you can relax. But when I come to the shifts tired and you’re not there and he is, he just laughs in my face!” 

You laugh because it just sounds like Giselle’s taking this as an opportunity to rant to you about her playful rivalry with Jaemin. 

“Don’t laugh! Can’t you see where I’m going with my examples?” she whines, “I know you’re smart, Y/N!”

You shake your head, “I need you to explain it more bluntly, Gi.” 

Giselle facepalms, a sigh flying out of her lips, “What I’m saying is that Jaemin pays attention to you more than you think… he treats you a hundred times better than any of us but, obviously, you’re too blind to see it because you’re still hung up on the idea that he’s just ‘being nice’.”

You swallow a pool of spit you didn’t even know was sitting in your mouth and you process your friend’s explanation. The idea of the possibility of Jaemin actually liking you back was something you thought about once in a while, but it was usually in your bed right before you went to sleep giggling. Never did these thoughts appear in broad daylight, much less with Jaemin sitting just yards away.

The thought tickles your stomach and you wanna say something to Giselle, though you’re unsure what. And before you could bring yourself to open your mouth, you felt a light tap against your shoulder.

“Miss Y/N?” 

You’re punted out of your thoughts when one of the little boys from Jaemin’s table appears to your left, entering your line of sight.

“Hi, Junnie! What’s up?” you bend down slightly at the waist, eyeing the card and the crayon he’s holding in his hand. 

He makes no effort to say anything else. Instead, he holds out the two items in his small hands, waiting for you to take them. When you gently do, he takes a step back, holding his arms behind his back to watch you read the card.

The front of the card was just a normal card, the greeting ‘Happy Holidays’ written on the front in a child’s handwriting in red and green crayon. Underneath the words was a Christmas tree, glued on there by, who you assumed was, Junnie. 

Then, when you open it, your heart skips a beat and a half. 

In crayon, in messy yet very cute writing you read: 

Are you a Christmas tree? 

Because I'm really pining fir you!

Dinner date?

“It’s from Mister Jaemin,” Junnie says from behind the card. He’s teetering on the balls of his feet, cheeks being pushed up by his smile.

Your heart is now pounding against your chest because it is all playing out perfectly, like how it would in a movie. With Giselle telling you things you’ve never noticed before, to you denying, and now Junnie was just sent by Jaemin to send you this cute little letter to confess to you—you’re not sure how to react.

“Oh, really?” you question.

“Really?” Giselle gasps from next to you. 

Your eyes immediately dart across the room and to the mentioned boy, who’s awfully pretending to busy himself with the scraps of paper littering the table.

“What’s your answer?” Junnie questions.

Embarrassingly, you don’t even hesitate to scribble down your answer underneath the question. Handing it back to Junnie, you wave for him to come closer and you bring your mouth up to his ear, “Can you help me play a small trick on Mister Jaemin?” 

Junnie nods, a mischievous smile appearing almost instantly on his face.

“When you go over there to give him this, I want you to pretend to be sad, okay? Make him think it’s not a yes.” 

Junnie struggles to contain his smile before nodding once more, then turns to make his way back to Jaemin.

You follow the young boy with your eyes, watching as he does his very best to maintain a poker face. You watch as Jaemin turns to him, a look of confusion surfacing his face when he sees that Junnie is not smiling like he had anticipated and you can’t help but snicker.

The moment Junnie’s within hearing vicinity, Jaemin says something to him that you obviously couldn’t hear. Junnie glances back at you and then reveals your answer to Jaemin and you know he’s done it the second Jaemin’s face lights up. 

You chuckle as Jaemin looks up at you, his face breaking into a wide smile. He waves at you shyly, like a bashful kid, before silently mouthing, "Tomorrow?"

You nod, warmth spreading across your cheeks. Giselle makes a comment over your shoulder but you don’t quite catch it, the cells in your body buzzing in excitement. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: 12/12!! This was poorly proofread so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes but I wanted to finish this so I can work on other wips!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS,, THANK YOU!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

You

pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: oh death babes, depression, mentions of drugs, mentions of ODs, gun violence, blood, four out of the five stages of grief (there’s no acceptance here)

a/n: Guys, I was feeling something, and spewed this out. Enjoy the pure grief and pain I just poured out onto a page. Also spot the little references throughout hehe. 

Spencer Reid Masterlist

“Spence, you did everything you could. It’s not your fault.” 

He shook his head and pressed you up against his chest, ignoring the blood seeping into his pants, his vest, his hands. 

“You can’t—hey, hey, hey, look at me. Y/n, please.” His voice cracked on his plea as the two of you crumpled to the ground. He screamed out for a medic as he cradled your body against him. 

Your eyes floated in and out of consciousness, focusing on him when they could. “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”

“N-No.”

“I-I…I love you…” Your chest heaved up and down. 

“Stop it. Stop.” 

“So….much….” 

Spencer just shook his head and yelled at his team to do something, but they all stood back, none of them wanting to ruin the goodbye he never got to say. 

Spencer snapped into focus, realizing he was sitting on the jet, staring out the window. There was no one sitting next to him, they had all taken the physical seats, leaving him to the couch. And while this was nothing out of the norm, the only difference was that you weren’t sitting on the couch facing back at him. 

Spencer was alone, in his head, and on the couch. 

Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n passed away on May 17th, at the young age of thirty. She had been an agent of the FBI for over seven years, and a member of the BAU for almost five. She had become an integral part of the team and was a valued member of the team. She was survived by her fiancé Doctor Spencer Reid, her Mother and Father, her younger brother and sister, as well as two nieces and one nephew. 

Spencer thought about you every single day. 

He would think about you when he went to make his coffee, adding a scoop of sugar since that’s how you took yours. He thought about you when he took the train into work, listening to songs that you loved, over and over and over. He thought about you when he would sit alone on the jet, trying to ignore all of the pitiful stares as everyone tried not to take your spot on the couch. 

He liked to replay your death over and over and over, making it so that he was in the other car, he was onsight to say goodbye to you. 

Derek told him that you waited for as long as you could. 

Spencer didn’t know if that was comforting, knowing you willingly suffered longer than you needed to, just to see him one last time. But it was in vain since you died two minutes and forty-seven seconds before the car arrived. 

In his head, he was the one who held you, who told you how much you were loved and adored, and maybe that could’ve made you stay. 

It wasn’t Derek holding you as you choked on your own blood, watching you struggle to survive long enough. It wasn’t Derek holding you telling you to breathe and just let go. It wasn’t Derek being the last person to hear your voice. 

Tell him that I’m so sorry, and I love him. So. Much.

Spencer realized about a month after the funeral, that he never saw your wedding dress. You were about seven months away from your wedding when you died, but you had been engaged for over a year. 

Emily, Penelope, and JJ have the pictures, but he column’t bring himself to see you in something that was supposed to signify your forever, when instead it was cut short by an ambush and the carelessness of the local cops. 

Apparently, it was perfect. But Spencer didn’t have perfect. He wasn’t lucky enough to have perfect. He wasn’t privileged enough to even be allowed to think about perfection. 

The anger would take over after thinking about it for too long. He always found himself angry with you for leaving him—abandoning him. How selfish could you be? Spencer believed he wasn’t worthy of you, he never had. You’d always take your lunch breaks with him, so he always had someone to sit with since he told you about how he would eat alone when he was younger. Every Time he’d come in with his tie crooked or his hair a mess, you would casually let him know. Eventually, when you worked up the courage to kiss him one night, you just started fixing it for him. Every morning you’d make him coffee as you both got ready for the day. You’d leave him little notes hidden in his desk, in his pillowcase, in his wallet, in his pockets.

It didn't take anything to make him think about you, but when he reached into the pocket of his jacket to find his phone as he got onto the plane, he found one. 

Hello Darling,          I hope today is a good day for you. You deserve         good things Spence. I hope you one day believe        it as much as I know it to be true &lt;3.      With all the love in my heart,             Future Mrs Doctor Spencer Reid P.S. you owe me the dishes tonight…

It shattered what little resolve he had left this morning, causing him to sit alone, on the couch, the note pressed against his lips as he stared out the windows of the plane. 

It was ironic that the one good thing he had left in the world was suddenly gone, and how you leaving made him feel as though he deserved nothing. The Bureau gave him a maximum of six months off, Grief Leave, they called it. But he ended up getting restless around month four, asking Hotch if he could come back periodically. That was how JJ found out that Spencer had been sleeping on the couch, unable to bring himself to sleep in a bed made for the two of you when there was only one left. 

It’s also how JJ found out that Spencer had relapsed. 

She had been the one to find him on the bathroom floor, a few days after your funeral. And spencer fucking hated her for it. He kept asking himself why she would keep the two of you apart? Two souls that were meant to forever be intertwined suddenly ripped apart. It felt like some sort of cruel joke. 

But he didn’t use it after that. One and Done, as he stated to Garcia over the phone one night while at a rehab. They let him out a week later since they couldn’t prove he was a harm to himself. 

The team would take their turns, feeling like he was twenty-three again, watching as they felt obligated to babysit him, watch out for him. Made him feel more like his friendships were chores than acts of love. Spencer didn’t feel much love anymore, only pity. 

Spencer looked over as Derek cleared his throat, silently asking if he could sit down, in your spot. He nodded once, an invitation he wasn’t really in the mood to repeat. 

The plane ride was going to be a long one, six hours. And Spencer had only been overthinking everything for one of them. 

“You found another one.” Not a question, an observation. 

Reid nodded, his gaze had shifted back to the window, the clouds, the slight rain streaking horizontally across the sky as they flew. 

 You loved the rain. It was refreshing, something cleansing. Rebirth, as you would say. 

It gives you a new beginning everytime it rains, which is extremely kind of the universe considering how many times we manage to fuck up. 

Spencer had once laughed at that, listening to you rant on about the perks and importance of rain. But now? He fucked hated it. He saw glimpses of you in every rain drop, reflecting you millions of times, and he would hear your laugh every time it thundered, taking up sas much space as deserved and echoing through your empty house. 

It rained for a week straight after you died. The world weeped at the loss of your soul. Spencer couldn’t tell if it was a cruel joke from the universe, or if it was you trying to tell him to try out that whole “rebirth thing”. 

Either way, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you would have. 

“Even when she’s not…” Spencer closed his eyes and swallowed the words, still unable to say them outloud. “She still manages to, uh, render me speechless.” 

Your favorite pastime was getting Doctor Spencer Reid to become speechless. You learned how to play chess, without his knowledge, and managed to beat him the first time you played. At somepoint, you had learned enough Russian to go and see one fo those movies he enjoyed so much, even though he knew that deep down the whole thing was not remotely in your wheelhouse. The team had never heard Spencer go as quiet as often as he did when you were around. 

Except for now. Spencer would state a fact, make an observation, point out something the team was missing, and that was it. He never spoke more than a few sentences at a time. Gone were the days of rants and backstory and additional context, that you always argued were important. No one listened to Spencer like you did. Instead, now, the world settled into an uncomfortable silence where laughter and rambling and teasing should have been. 

“She’s good like that.” Derek looked down at his hands. The two of them barely spoke because it was ahrd, for both of them. Spencer knew that Derek could still see your breath stop when he closed his eyes. Derek once drunkenly told him that sometimes, he could still see your blood over his hands–He couldn’t wash it out with water, so some nights he’d wash it out with whiskey, or bourbon, or scotch, anything to make the stains go away. 

The two of them looked at one another before opting to not say anything further, at risk of causing them both even more grief at the subject of you. 

I swear Spence, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I know you will.

It was funny to him that in his day dream, you always ended up comforting him. You always ended up being the one to make sure he was okay before you died. 

I love you so much Spence. 

And he would just whisper how much he loved you back, hoping to god that somewhere, somehow, you could hear him. You could hear his misery and come back, having pranked him. He’d forgive you, if you came back. 

But instead, while he thought about you at 43,894 feet above the earth, you lay six feet under, permanently grounded. 

[chaoticbardlady99]

Twists and Turns (Astarion x F!Reader)

Synopsis: Astarion initially rejected you and you turn your attentions elsewhere- to his surprise.

By the time Astarion realizes his feelings for you- it’s too late. You and Gale are happy together and Astarion would never ruin that for you, but sometimes fate surprises us. Especially Astarion- who never thought he’d see Gale as a hero.

CW: Character death, angsty?, fluffy, crotch goblins (children)

Pairings: Gale Dekarios x F! reader and Astarion Acunin x F! reader- also some dadstarian

✨lightly edited✨

Author note: I was inspired by @thedomesticanthropologist post regarding an unconventionally attractive Tav. I didn’t really touch on it too much, but it is apart of the story to an extent. Please be kind because my writer’s anxiety has been so bad I almost deleted my blog entirely 🫣

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Photo belongs to @venenum-cadaverinus on Tumblr

By the time Astarion had fallen in love with you- it had already been too late.

Oh he flirted with you, called you beautiful when he believed you weren’t much to look at, and then you had come up to ask if he would want to go look at stars with you the night of the Tiefling party. Astarion couldn’t get himself to even pretend he wanted to indulge in you. He assumed you were only wanting to sleep with him and he was not about to sleep with you just because you asked. Astarion no longer has to do anything anyone asks of him.

“I have standards.”

Your face falls and the book of Astronomy in your hand nearly slips.

“Oh- I,” you clear your throat, “I’m sorry to have bothered you then.”

He had rolled his eyes when he came back from being with whatever Tiefling woman he had approached- you had been crying quietly in your tent.

Astarion found the whole thing unattractive and well, really he found you unattractive. Astarion has a preference for traditionally beautiful people and you would never be that. You would surely get over it eventually and if he’s lucky, you’ll just be an annoying kicked puppy who will do anything for him like you have been since he met you.

So, for whatever reason, Astarion assumed everything would go back to normal the next day and the two of you would fall back into the usual routine- he sits and reads while you eat breakfast in the mornings, he talks about whatever book he is reading, you ask him questions about himself, and then you go about your days separately until going through the same motions for dinner. Astarion fights next to you and you protect each other. You are smitten with Astarion and he has you wrapped around his pinkie finger like he wanted.

So imagine his surprise when you don’t come out for breakfast or dinner at all- at least not to sit with him. All of a sudden, Gale is with you all the time. He had seen the man come up to you while you were holding your book and he hugged you- the wizard even glared at Astarion while he was doing it.

Astarion upped his game after that, but nothing he said ever reached you anymore. He’d call you beautiful and he’d watch you visibly flinch. He asked you to go to bed with him and you told him no- you wanted to be with someone who thought you were special and beautiful. Astarion said he does think that. You got angry with him and told him to stop lying- go back to “having standards”. Your anger stung and he knew it was justified, but the little pieces of your trust he could get eventually blossomed into a friendship. Only, now he wanted more and Astarion was entirely infatuated with you.

He had decided to tell you how he felt one night before the descent into the Shadow Cursed Lands, but you were quickly swept away by Gale the moment Astarion tried to come talk to you.

Gale was dragging you off somewhere very specific and when Astarion let his nosiness get the best of him- it dawned on him that he had truly lost you 2 months ago when he had said what he said.

You peer through a telescope excitedly, telling Gale about all your favorite constellations and why. He shares his own knowledge with you and you are wide eyed, fascinated- leaning in to hear more. Gale’s own lips hover over yours and the two of you are smiling at each other widely. Astarion thinks he’s going to throw up when Gale kisses you- not because he’s disgusted, but because it occurred to him that he might have thrown away the only person who actually gave a shit about Astarion enough to love him and he broke your heart. Fitting that he is the one hurting now.

Maybe that’s really all you had wanted- to share something you love with Astarion. You wanted to feel like he gave a shit about you too and he said, “I have standards”!? What in the hells is wrong with him!?

The part of him- the less prideful part- wishes he had gotten to see you this way for him. Why did he spend so much time focusing on you knowing him? Why didn’t he take the time to see you this way? Know you this way when you wanted him.

Gale said something that made you laugh heartily as he brushed stray hair from your face, his hands gripping your hips, and you gasped when he kissed you again. The sound fills Astarion with warmth, but makes him feel sick at the same time. That should be him with you, not Gale.

You went from being plain, unattractive and uninteresting to the single most beautiful individual he has ever met. Astarion found himself hanging onto your words (even the angry ones) and yearning to be next to you.

You continued to do your dance with Gale while Astarion continued his own dance with you. When you threaten that horrible Drow on his behalf, Astarion has to accept it- he has well and truly fallen for you.

Astarion decided he would tell you when you got back from whatever excursion you were on with Gale. He had to at least try. Besides, what could Gale possibly show you in the Shadow Cursed Lands?

Only it had been too late- neither one of you came back for hours and when you did, the two of yours’ scents were mingled so closely together he could barely distinguish you from Gale. You began sleeping in the man’s tent, holding his hand during meals, exchanging kisses, etc.

Astarion, on the other hand, had taken the unofficial title of ‘best friend’. It had stung quite a bit, but he happily took whatever scraps you could give him. It was hardly scraps though- Astarion feels emotionally cared for, protected, and respected by you at all times. Besides, Astarion has a feeling that, if anything happened between you and Gale, there was a very good chance for Astarion to take over that space in your heart again.

The love test at the circus proved it- you had been more compatible with Astarion than Gale. Thankfully you had gone at separate times (Astarion and Gale have since become friendly enough so Astarion doesn’t have to worry about losing you). You had avoided Astarion’s eyes while Gale boasted about the Love Test results.

You had been the first one to wake up and attack his siblings when they had tried to kidnap him. Astarion had never seen you look that angry before in the entire time he has met you- you were even angrier than when Araj had pestered him.

You admitted to Astarion later that day that you hadn’t been sleeping well- you were worried about Cazador or his siblings showing up and that you wouldn’t get there in time. It had been haunting you since the minute you stepped foot in Rivington.

When he finally did face Cazador, it was with you at his side and when he finally killed the man- you didn’t deny Astarion the hug he begged you for telepathically. You held him up as he sank against you and you said soothing words- you told him how proud of him you were. You still reminded him everyday after when he expressed doubt.

Astarion was certain he would watch you grow old with Gale and have a family. So Astarion promised himself that he will love you dutifully regardless and protect you and your family like you have protected him. When you pass? He isn’t sure what he will do then, but he has eternity to be without you and Gods only knows long to be around you.

Until the Wizard of Waterdeep just had to throw him a curve ball the night before the battle against the Netherbrain.

Astarion was sitting by the roaring fireplace as he tried not to make it obvious to Gale that he’s silently pining for you. You were laughing and telling jokes with Karlach and Wyll- Shadowheart joining in and eventually Lae’zel. Your laughter is probably one of Astarion’s favorite sounds.

Only because he doesn’t know what you sound like moaning underneath him.

“You love her.”

Astarion’s train of thought broke and he gawked at the Wizard.

“I-um,” Astarion cleared his throat, “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Obviously I’m looking at…”

Actually now that he’s looked over there, none of them were believable enough for him to get out of this one.

“Yes- yes fine. I love her,” Astarion scowls, “you won, I love her and get to watch you live a whole life with her. Congratulations.”

“Astarion- I didn’t say that because I want to rub it in your face. I’m saying it because I have a favor to ask- for Tav’s sake.”

Astarion felt himself freeze. He was silently praying that Gale wasn’t going to tell him to stay away from you- to walk away and never come back after the events of tomorrow. It would be the thing that kills Astarion.

“Okay,” he says wearily, “I’m listening.”

“We all know it’s possible that some of us won’t be leaving this journey alive tomorrow.”

Is he suggesting you might die tomorrow? Astarion still stays right next to you during fights- no one even gets within an inch of you if he can help it.

“If it comes down to it and I need to use my orb,” Gale says solemnly, “I need you to take Tav and run- I don’t care if you need to drag her, cast sleep on her, anything as long as it’s painless.”

Astarion stared at the man blankly. He’s asking Astarion to drag you away as you watch your boyfriend sacrifice himself for the sake of the greater good of humanity.

“Why- why are you asking me? And not Karlach or-“

“Because I know you won’t tell her that I’m considering it as an option,” Gale said before adding, “and I am very aware that she loves you too. She’s going to need you if I die.”

“Need me?,” Astarion laughs in disbelief, “Gale, I broke her heart and I’m about to lose the only way I can walk in the sun tomorrow. It would be stupid of her to-“

“No, it would not,” Gale frowns, “she loves you, Astarion. Stop pushing her away.”

“You aren’t dead yet, Wizard,” Astarion said with an edge to his tone, “there is still a possibility that there is a Dekarios wedding in the foreseeable future.”

Gale smiled sadly at Astarion.

“That is the hope- is it not?” Gale got up to join you and the others, “you’ll remember that you deserve to be loved for her- won’t you?”

Astarion watched the man walk off like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bomb onto Astarion’s world. He watched as you smiled brightly at Gale and your hands intertwined with his.

But he also caught you looking over at him with a welcoming, pleading smile. Astarion smiles back and joins- hoping that he won’t be part of the reason that smile fades ever again.

*******************************

Gale looks at Astarion- they are losing. Tav is hurt, but still trying to sling spells and cantrips. Karlach and Wyll are becoming cornered quickly, Shadowheart and Lae’zel too. Even with all of the support they brought and it still wasn’t enough.

You bastard, Astarion telepathically says to Gale, you really are going to make me the bad guy, huh?

Ha!, Gale thinks sadly, you have it turned around. It has been a privilege to know you, Astarion. Take care of Tav for me.

Same to you, Gale- I promise she’ll be safe.

Gale announces to everyone they need to leave. You run towards Gale screaming for him to stop- that he doesn’t have to do this, but Astarion intercepts you.

“ASTARION- PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW,” you scream while slamming your fists into his back, struggling to make him release you, “PUT ME- GALE PLEASE- I LOVE YOU!”

Gale smiles at you with all the love in the world.

“I love you too, Tav. Always and forever.”

Gale casts a spell and like that- they are on the docks. You are screaming and throwing magic- desperate to get back to Gale as Astarion holds you close to his chest.

“I hate you!” You scream as you push Astarion weakly, “ I… I-“

You look at him pitifully and Astarion’s heart aches with yours. Astarion pulls you back towards him in a tight hug and holds you. You sob into his chest and hold him back with equal ferocity.

Astarion’s ability to comfort you only lasts about five minutes before the sun begins to burn him again and Karlach is dying- Wyll convinces her to go to Avernus with him. Astarion races to the shadows- certain that he is about to go into the darkness alone as he hides behind the crates.

He cradles his burning hand to his chest and hisses through the pain. Astarion doesn’t register the frantic footsteps approaching him.

“ASTARI- oh my Gods.”

He looks up at you in disbelief as you get down to your knees next to him and begin pulling out healing scrolls, potions, anything you can think of that might help.

You stay next to him until it’s time to move to a different set of shadows and you stay with him every moment afterwards.

You spend the next 6 months together starting your search for a Ring of the Sunwalker in the Underdark- successfully assassinating a very powerful Drow Priestess for it right before Wither’s party.

When you head back to Baldur’s gate together- Astarion sells all of Cazador’s shit and his castle. He invites you to live with him and you pick a house together.

Your emotions have been foreign and not easy for Astarion to handle over the last 6 months and even a year after moving in together, but he thinks about how crazy he would feel if you had also died that day and so he has weathered every storm you throw at him.

Astarion sits as you angrily rant about how unfair it was for him to make that decision without you. You wanted a choice, some kind of say, and you even occasionally just screamed at Astarion for preventing you from staying with him.

This continues even after the party that Wither’s throws. Tara adored you just as Gale had predicted and his holograph healed a piece of you, but now your grief is all consuming. You lay in bed for days on end and you stop eating or even coming out of your room. Scratch lays next to you dutifully until Astarion takes him out to use the restroom. They have to disguise the poor dog as a cat, but he doesn’t seem to mind very much.

Astarion lets you sit and do what you need to do, but after day 10, he finally needs to help you feel like a person again- in whatever way he can. So he runs you a bath and he helps you numbly walk towards it. It’s been about 30 minutes since he left you upstairs. He considered offering to help you, but he wasn’t sure if that would be crossing a line.

You walk downstairs moments later and quietly say his name. Astarion looks up at you and smiles- you took a bath.

“Well, well, look at you,” Astarion teases, “you sure clean up nicely.”

You laughed hoarsely at his joke and sat next to him. Astarion doesn’t move- he wants to pull you into his lap, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.

“Can- would you-,” you choke on the lump in your throat, “would you hold me, please?”

Astarion’s face softens as you begin to sniffle and your shoulder begins to shake with the sobs you are trying to hold back.

“Of course, Darling.”

You crawl into his lap and you lean the side of your head against his unbeating heart. Astarion just goes back to reading his book, enjoying the comfortable silence and how your body finally seems to have relaxed. You’d been so tense for the last two years- constantly on the verge of breaking in half, but he knows how resilient you are. He knows your strength and he knew you would get out of it eventually- even if only for a little while at a time.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice sings through the air and is like music to his ears. You sound like you again- tired and still a little melancholy- but you nonetheless.

“Well, Darling, I thought it might be worth learning about some of this astronomy nonsense a little over a year ago so we could talk about it when you felt better,” Astarion says, trying to say it as nonchalantly as possible, “I’ve come to really enjoy the topic.”

You beam at him and it’s the first time he’s seen a smile reach your eyes in what feels like eons. You quiz him, correct him, you tell him everything over the ‘stars’ and then some as you so horribly said. Astarion can’t help but find the moment to be so bittersweet.

He finally had the moment he wanted with you, but he didn’t think a single moment would cost a life.

************************************

“Elanora! Gale! Get back here you little-“

The twins giggle as they run from Astarion around the house. He understands what people mean by terrible twos now.

It’s been a little over 10 years since Gale died. In that time- Karlach had her engine fixed and five years ago, you found a Wish scroll for Astarion. Being a living breathing human again was a very difficult adjustment for the first two years. It’s been 3 years now and it’s not as difficult, but he did forget about the whole pregnancy thing.

It had been a massive shock when you fell pregnant a few months after you and Astarion had gotten married a little over two years ago. Astarion had been so focused on the proposal being perfect that it took longer for him to ask than he wanted.

You giving birth was probably the most terrifying experience of his life and you very well almost died, but by some miracle, you lived through the gruesome endeavor. He gives his thanks to Shadowheart, Isobel, and Dame Aylin. Astarion suspects Gale might have had a hand in it too because you had been out cold, but woke up with tears in your eyes and told Astarion that A. Gale says hello and B. how dare he think you’d just abandon two children with him like that. You are responsible “dammit!”

Astarion is so grateful you didn’t die giving birth to his children. He loves the little crotch goblins to death, but you are the only one they really listen to. You always tell him it’s because he gives in- Astarion argues “how could I not!? Have you seen them!? They are adorable!”

Scratch tried to help him initially after you left to go spend time with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel at Elfsong Tavern. The poor dog didn’t last much longer than Astarion- hiding under the bed from the monstrous toddlers that are definitely from his gene pool.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind saying n-“

“They are my children, Darling,” he said all too confidently, “I can handle time alone with my children!”

Evidently there is a difference between handling and surviving- Astarion would consider himself trying to survive. He should have taken Halsin’s offer to hang out- maybe the twins would listen to their Uncle more than him.

Astarion eventually caught them, bathed them, read them a book, and got them to bed. The minute Gale fell asleep around 11:30 pm was the same time you came home.

Astarion came down the stairs and you began to laugh as quietly as you could behind your hand. He leers at you playfully.

“Did you have fun, my Star?” You tease.

“Once I finally caught them- yes,” he says flatly.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.

“Let’s go to bed- then you can tell me all about it and I’ll tell you all the hot gossip Karlach has heard from Wyll about the upper class in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Will it be in the paper tomorrow?”

“Oh yes,” you grin widely, “ oh yes it will.”

Astarion loves when you come back from meeting with Karlach- he always knows what’s happening before it even happens. It means he gets to watch everyone else be scandalized which is usually 1,000 times more entertaining than the gossip itself. One time- the paper had been so explicit that the next door neighbor (an elderly woman) quite literally died of shock after reading about an affair the Magistrate had with the Duke. Apparently she was a hard core supporter of the wives and never anticipated such ugly men to cheat on their wives (you may have found him using a talk to the undead spell on the poor woman).

You fall asleep faster than you anticipated- at least that’s what Astarion thinks. The moment you lay your head on his chest is the same moment you slowly, softly begin to snore as he tells you about the evening. You chuckle when he says he is going to need help cleaning up the water in the bathroom tomorrow.

These are the nights that Astarion finds himself looking up to the heavens and smiling sadly- thanking Gale for his sacrifice, for giving Astarion a life he never thought he would ever have.

Most importantly, he thanks Gale for you. For letting go of what future he could have had with you. For not asking you to stay and die with him.

Gale Dekarios is the only reason Astarion Acunin believes in heroes at all.

[a-soft-hornytiny]

False accusation.

Summary: They accuse you of betrayal. Little did they know they were making a big mistake. 

Word count: 1.5k+

Genre: Angst (good? ending)

Pairing: Ateez x neutral!reader

Warnings: Mafia!Ateez, toxicity, distrust, mention of a gun, slight violence (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: my first ever mafia!ateez fic! The request was for a female reader but the gender is not mentioned. I hope that's alright! And the fluff fell really short, like almost non existent but this is how it felt right so it is what it is.. and yeah idk this feels rushed but I’m way too insecure about writing angst so feedback is very welcome. 

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Come on come on come on Your back was turned to the door as you nervously fiddled with your hands. It had already been a few months since you had found out about your boyfriends‘ jobs and at first you were shocked but it was them or going back to your boring everyday life. And even though it was morally questionable, you decided to stay with them.

It didn’t take long until they decided it would be best for you to live with them, to protect you. And although they never told you directly, you knew it was to control you as well. 

You had worked hard to gain their trust but recently they grew more suspicious of you. It was that you flinched when they came near you, that you always seemed to hide something and how nervous you were when they asked you what you were doing. You knew it would be troublesome for you if they found out but you were bad at hiding your emotions. Which was not ideal for the partner of eight highly experienced criminals.

Steps were heard in front of your door and you barely managed to hide what you were doing before Yunho entered your room. You turned around, sweat running down your forehead. 

“W-whats up?” You asked, nervously stepping forward before taking a deep breath. You needed to calm down, if you told on yourself now it would ruin everything. 

“Come outside.” Yunho’s voice was cold, giving you the shivers. He was scary. When you first met him, obviously outside of their work environment, you got to know him as a sunshine, but when you saw him angry for the first time, he was your personal nightmare. 

You stared at the ground as you followed him out of your room. You didn’t know where he was leading you but before you could ask, you were pressed face first against the wall. Your heart was beating up to your throat. 

“Do not dare to resist.” You whined quietly. You could recognise that voice anywhere. Another member that you rarely knew angry. He had pinned your hands against your back, pressing his whole body against you to fixate you against the wall.

“I promise I won’t!” Seonghwa’s face was right next to yours so you could feel his breath on your skin. “You better keep that promise.” He responded before pulling you away from the wall and guiding you into a room. But it wasn’t just any room. It was the room you had never been allowed to enter. The room out of which you sometimes heard loud voices in the middle of the night. 

Seonghwa harshly sat you down on a chair before leaving the room again. You were still in shock, unsure what was happening. It was an interrogation room. The chair you were sitting on was connected to the ground, just like the metal table in front of you. The gray walls were empty and the room generally felt cold. 

It didn’t take you long to recognise more familiar faces. One two three…. seven eight. All of them were here. Seonghwa and Yunho were standing right next to the entrance, Yeosang and Wooyoung covered the wall right behind you. Mingi, Jongho and San stood at the opposite side of the room. 

Before you could further inspect the room, hands slammed onto the table in front of you.

“Eyes on me.” Hongjoong growled, making you flinch. Fear was filling your body as you looked up to him. He stared right into your soul. This was the room where they uncovered all secrets, where they had no scruples. You were shaking.

“What is it.” He asked, although it sounded more like a statement. You had question marks in your eyes. “You’re hiding something from us. What is it?” You looked down onto your hands, all your nerves were overloaded with impulses. Too early. They couldn’t find out yet. Your plan would be ruined. 

“I-I’m not hiding anything.” A lie. A straight up lie. And you could feel that they knew. Suddenly you felt warm air on your neck.

“Don’t lie to us. We’re not dumb, little one.” You hadn’t even noticed how Wooyoung creeped up to you. You didn’t dare to turn around and look at him. His voice shook your soul. Little one. That cute nickname he had given you at the start of your relationship, usually making you feel precious, was now making you feel helpless. 

You felt tears swell up in your eyes. Don’t cry, you can not cry. You tried to tell yourself but it had no use. You felt horrible. You had let them into your heart and their distrust was hurting you deeply. But you couldn’t even be mad at them. You were hiding something. And they had made themselves vulnerable too.

“No need to cry love.. just tell us what you’re hiding.” San was kneeling down next to the table, resting his arms and head on the cold metal plate. He was smiling at you. But his eyes were cold. You felt a sting in your heart.

“I-…” Tears were uncontrollably running down your face now. “I’m sorry!” You cried out before burying your face into your hands. You didn’t want it to turn out like this but you should’ve known that they would misunderstand it. That they would think you would betray them. 

There was only one way out of this. You had to show them. But reaching into your pocket was a mistake. You heard a gun being armed. 

“Don’t move.” You froze immediately, only to look up and see Jongho holding his gun, pointed to the ground. 

“Please.. I just want to show you! You need to see it to understand.” Your voice was cracking with every word you were saying. Yeosang appeared behind you, putting both of your hands onto the cold table. “Where?” He demanded deeply. You shivered. “In my back pocket.” Your whole body was tense as Yeosang fished something out of your pocket and put it on the table. 

You let out a deep breath of relief as you saw them realize that the object wasn’t meant to harm anyone. 

“A bracelet?” Hongjoong asked, obviously taken aback. You nodded hesitantly. You felt the tension in the room slowly disappear.

“It’s for Mingi.” You said, causing him to look up curiously. “It’s the last piece of my.. my present for you. The rest is in the little casket under my bed.” You confessed. Yunho immediately stormed out of the room to see if you were telling the truth, leaving you in an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

But as you looked into their eyes, one after another, you saw the instant regret take the place of anger.

“I thought about it for a long time.. I can’t gift you anything that would be obviously linked to me or would connect all of you.” You slowly regained confidence to explain your behavior. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Yunho came in, putting the open casket onto the table. Their shock grew as they realized that you were telling the truth. 

A belly chain, a ring, a necklace, earrings, a choker, an anklet and a belt buckle. With the bracelet that was eight pieces. All of them were obviously self made. 

You forced a smile as you saw guilt forming in their eyes. The first one to apologize was Seonghwa. He stormed forward, embracing you into a hug. You were still tense but you slowly felt your fear fade away. 

“Put that damn gun away Jongho!” You heard Hongjoong whisper aggressively before you were let into the living room. You were now sitting on the couch, all eight of them in front of you, looking at you as if they just commited the most horrible crime. And in their minds they did. 

“Listen Y/n, there is nothing we can do to make this up to you.” Hongjoong started talking but you interrupted him. “Just take them.” You tried your best to forget the fear you felt and put all your love into that smile. 

You stood up, all your self made gifts in your hands. You stepped forward. The belt buckle for Hongjoong, the choker for Seonghwa, the ring for Yunho, the belly chain for Yeosang, the anklet for San, the bracelet for Mingi, the necklace for Wooyoung and the earrings for Jongho. 

Looking at them you wanted to feel love but the shock and pain was still sitting deep in your bones. The atmosphere was awkward, uncomfortable. You didn’t know how long it would take to work through this, the sound of a gun being armed still echoing in your brain. You had never realized how much danger you were in all the time. 

But you were willing to forgive them, no matter how much time it would take to heal. 

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Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @hoshischeekss @yeosangsbiceps @euphoric-emily16 @anyamaris @shinestarhwaa

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