#my brain focusing HARD on the thing that brings me happiness. and focusing the Bare Minimum on what doesnt

[orcelito]

ive got an exam in a bit over an hour and im cramming for it bc i spent all of yesterday thinking about trigun instead of studying. whatup

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

Dreams come true - Aespa High School AU - Day two

Hello people, the new chapter of my new Au is here. Reader is slowly getting in confidence with the four girls more. Let me know what do you think, which one of them is convincing you more. And as always opinions and suggestions through comments and DMs are welcomed.

"Bro, second day and you already late?", you asked, walking so fast that it seemed you were training for the olympics. "It's not my fault, blame Johnny and Tae, they convinced me to stay up all night to play Fortnite", Mark justified, his lack of sleep giving him an hard time to follow you. "You're lucky I already got the street memorized", you sighed, gaining even more speed; at this point you were basically running to arrive school in time. Luckily even if you are lazy af, you managed to enter the building few minutes before the start of the lessons, your best friend basically dying on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

Your other best friend was eagerly waiting for you in class instead, in fact the moment you put your shoes inside, she jumped at your neck. "Bestieee, you made me worry, I was afraid you were going to skip school", she complained cutely, pouting at you. "Sorry, Aeri, this idiot arrived late at my apartment and he almost screwed me up. And don't worry about that, it's too early to skip classes...maybe in a week or so", you reassured her, earning a punch on the shoulder. "Well, at least if you really have to, bring me with you", she added, her pout melting in an happy smile. "Sorry to interrupt the moment, but if things keep going this way, I may have to change class soon: I can't stand this bitch acting lovey-dovey", Winter said, feigning to puke. "Shut up, Minjeong, it's not my fault if you have nobody who you can be affectionate to", Giselle rolled her eyes, clearly pissed by the tease of her friend. "Ah no? I don't? Too bad", Winter shrugged, before going towards her seat, but not before giving you a last quick look, and, damn, you felt your heart stopping for a second in front of her smirk.

Soon enough the lesson started, so you barely had the time to greet all your classmates. Of course it was not the case of your deskmate, Ning, who already seemed way more comfortable around you compared to the previous day. "Already late? You're such a bad student", Ning teased you in a whisper, giggling slightly, hidden by her books. "What are you talking about? I arrived before our teacher, so I'm still a model student", you replied, while taking notes of the argument miss Sunny was explaining in the meanwhile. You kinda got Ning already, she was on the surface all cute and shy, but deeply she was this lethal teasing machine. Aeri suggested during last night call to simply ignore her or tease her back and for now it was working. Ning bit her lower lip, almost holding back her next tease, but probably seeing you all focused on the lesson, she must have decided to let it go.

The chance for her was going to arrive really soon. During the mid morning break, Karina cautiosly got close to your desk, before placing a chocolate muffin on it. "Hey...good morning. We have not had the chance to talk at all today", she started the conversation, playing with the hem of her skirt shyly. "Yeah, you're right...is this for me?", you managed to overcome your brain freeze in front of her beauty. "Oh...yes. Giselle casually told me that you often don't have breakfast, so I bought this muffin for you...you know, as a way to thank you for becoming my friend", she admitted, becoming more red on her cheeks at every word. "Well, thank you, Jimin, I have a pit in my stomach right now, so perfect timing", your small joke made Karina chuckle, and it was your first time hearing someone so pretty having such a dorky laugh, but you loved the contrast.

"Look at our model student, already going behind the princess of the school", Ning immediately attacked once Karina went back to her place. You tried to ignore her but your eyeroll was not missed by the younger girl. "Seriously, you just needed a day to pick your target, you didn't even give a chance", she crossed her arms, ready to replicate yesterday scene, but actually her remark produced a different effect on you. "Why? Already interested on me? Such a bold way to confess", you replied, for once teasing her back. Your comeback surprised Ning who got speechless. "No, I...I...ehm, of course I'm not interested, you would like that situation, uh?", Ning tried to gain back the control of the situation, but she was defeated by her own tease. "No need to panic, I'll keer your crush on me secret. Oh, and don't worry, I'm still single...for now", you smirked, messing up her hair with your hand. She didn't expect you to play her like that, and the fact you managed to silence her right in time with the end of the break left her even more flustered. She needed to be more careful with her tease from now on, but she couldn't help but want wanting your attention for some reasons...

"Hey loser, wait for me", you heard a soft voice calling you from behind. You turned your head just to look at Minjeong skipping in your direction. "Why are you following me? You don't even know where I am going", you asked, intrigued by her behaviour. "Right? However I know where you are not going: the cafeteria; it's in the opposite direction", she tried to make you notice, pointing behind her without rotating her body at all. There was incredibly sassy yet cute in her, she really had a different aura compared to the other people of your class. "Yeah, I know, but I'm not hungry right now, so I wanted to explore this building", you explained waiting for her to finally reach you. "Oh yeah? You won't be already tired of your loved bestfriends, right?", why did everyone was so obsessed with teasing in class? Was it the trend of the moment or what? "No, not tired all, simply I ate a muffin before and now I'm full, but I know Aeri pretty well to know she would still force me to have enough protein to make me a bodybuilder", you explained kindly, making Winter nod in agreement. "Well, if you really want to explore, let me be your guide", she said, taking your wrist and starting to show you around.

"-and here we have the rooftop", the girl with bob says standing in front of a metal door. "Are we even allowed to come here?", you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Well...technically no, but I'm sure in this moment the custodian is in line for food as everyone else, so there won't be any problem", she said, taking out of her pocket a small key and insterting it in the door lock, before looking at you again and seeing your doubtful face. "But if you're too scared, we can skip this place", she added, leaning against the wall and waiting for your next move. "Scared? Girl, you don't know me well enough", you snorted, pushing the wall to go out. Honestly this was an unnecessary risk but there is no way someone can think you're a coward. Winter followed you in the open space, a satisfied smile on her face. "You're an interesting one, aren't you?", she kinda praised you, walking toward a bunch of chairs, probably left on this rooftop by who knows how much. "I have always to beg Gigi and the others to come here with me", she explained with a sad smile and yet a bright sparkle in their eyes. "You should give your number, we can have a lot of fun together", she casually added, amusement clearly visible in her expression.

Also the second day of school somehow passed. Lessons were not terrible at all and you were starting to get your classmates and how to get along with them, even the most unhinged. You were putting your stuff in your backpack, when you saw Mark waving hands from the other side of the room. "Where are you going, man?", you asked confused, placing the backpack on just one shoulder, as usual. "Sorry, bestie, today I feel too tired, I need to go to sleep as soon as I can", he explained, standing on the threshold of the door. "But you have spent all the day napping instead of following", you protested, facepalming. "Yeah, but it's not the same as resting on my bed, you know", he justified, stretching and yawning. "Also, you already know the way perfectly, and it's not like I'm letting you go alone anyway", he added, disappearing from your sight, letting you even more confused. "Who are you talking about?", you shouted behind him, and the answer appeared, grabbing your arm tightly. "He's talking about me, dummy!", she exclaimed, snuggling againts your shoulder.

"...I can't believe they really made My Hero Academia end in that way!", Giselle said, wiping her laugh tears away. "For real, and I thought Attack on Titan had the worst ending", you replied, snickering loudly. The two of you walked with your arms linked, talking about some of the manga you were reading those days; it's a costum you two developed since the first days of your friendship and it was refreshing to be able to do it finally face to face. Slowly you arrived in front of the building where your apartment was. "So here we are...", Aeri mumbled, looking down at her feet; you could tell from her tone and body language that she didn't want to let you go already. "Hey Aeri...maybe do you want to...come inside?", you proposed, massaging your neck, a bit embarassed. Aeri was your best friend and you wanted to spend more time with her too, but she was still a really pretty girl and that would have been the first time you two were alone somehwere. "Really? Oh my God, yeah, I was hoping you would have asked me", she cheered, not losing yet another chance to squeeze you in a warm embrace.

"Finally I can see the inside of your cave, yesterday you were able to escape, but today you're all mine", she joked, admiring the really plain interior of your house."Yeah, it's not like there is much too see, I moved here few days before school started", you explained, removing your backpack and launching it on a random place of your small living room. "I can tell, this room is so anonymous that it seems fake", she made you notice, making you shrug, it was not your fault for school had no taste in interior design. "You know what? I will help you to give to this house a touch of style", she announced, nodding, sure of her decision. "I'm on board, as long it's my style and not yours", you teased her, obtaining a middle finger from your best friend. "Thank you for tha...hey, where are you going?", you asked, seeing her going toward the home door. "I told you, I'm going to help to decorate this place, and I'm starting from now. Be ready to work hard tomorrow after school", she told you, her mind already planning on what changement to do. You opened the door for her. "Thank you for letting me come inside, see you tomorrow, bestie", she said, before quickly pecking at your cheek and going on her way, ready to go who knows where. After she was gone, you plopped once more on your couch, closing your eyes and living through your memory the day that has just passed: Ning, Jimin, Minjeong, Aeri...everyone of them made you felt something different. You were not used to feel so much stuff where you lived, but honestly you couldn't wait to experience even more.

[ariesmoontarot]

What Are You Manifesting?

The Piles:

𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘈 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦

Pile One:

Song: Love On The Brain -Rihanna; I Gotta Find Peace Of Mind (Live) -Ms. Lauryn Hill; Let Me Go -Daniel Caesar

Side Note: Man, this pile is heavy on the emotions. I almost cried channeling these songs for you. I hope you manifest all the love and healing you need, take care my love <3.

Angel Number: 7, 77, 777

Channeled Words: Critical, horoscope, behead, flourish, hip, ghostwriter, attract, pipe, replace, difficulty.

Channeled Names: Naila, Yeseniya, Fadhili, Korneli, Göstav, Klara, Hyeon-Ju, Irene, Feidhelm, Kazuhiko, Domingo, Viola, Violetta, Olivia.

So, what I'm getting from your energy is that you're manifesting openness, vulnerability, and honesty. Of course that isn't the only thing you're manifesting, there is a very exciting, passionate, and confident energy you're going to be embracing. I feel like for some of you, you could be manifesting a union with someone you feel very strongly about. They may not come off as socially appropriate or acceptable. I feel like they have a bit of a bad reputation and people have judged them harshly because of it. I feel like this is someone you know from your past and maybe you guys used to link up and casually have sex or don't necessarily intend to have sex, but it happens. I feel like you have a lot of self-control and know when to limit yourself. Sexually, financially, lustfully, even when it comes to fun, drinking, smoking, anything that could potentially turn into a bad habit or addiction. You also know when to limit distractions and set boundaries and I feel like the person who could be from your past, doesn't know how to balance out their time and energy with their responsibilities. They may let their fears, addictions, bad habits, and desires control them more than their heart and mind. I feel like you're manifesting something long term and serious. You aren't playing games and I'm hearing you can "get it" anytime you want it, but you don't care to accept the bare minimum. You've had your fun and fair share of escapism and I feel like now you're ready to build abundance in all aspects. That goes for financial stability, success, a happy family, and wealth. I feel like you're someone who will hold it down for a person you really love and value. This could be how you feel towards someone you may or may not be talking to right now. I feel like loving them brought you happiness and pulled you out of a dark place. I feel like you loved this person a lot and wanted to build a home with them. It pushed you to mature and heal because you knew you had to be a better you in order to be focused and determined on the goals you have. I feel like this person feels like they lose their self-control around you. They're very attracted to you, and they fear how they feel for you because they know if they let you too close to them, you have the ability to hurt them, reject them, or make them feel less of themselves, but you wouldn't do that. They're just afraid of intimacy. Loving them has been a challenge for you, but you said, "challenge accepted". I feel like you didn't take no for an answer, you're persistent, confident, patient, & I'm seeing you've put in hard work and effort into this situation. But not only in this situation, you've worked on yourself, your family, and your priorities. You aren't chasing them or even focused on the negatives. I'm seeing you've manifested so much that you don't even realize. You've manifested clarity, peace, stability, strength, wisdom, & even a new mentality. That's not all spirit is saying, you also manifested a very big opportunity that will bring balance to every part of your life. You may not see this now, but you will very soon. You're in this period of realizing who you are, what you believe in, what you want out of life, & more. It's like things have been moving slow and at a very steady pace for you. It's like this saying, "It's slow to get rich, and fast to go broke". I feel like that applies in many ways. Good things take time. You can't rush success or progress; you build it and watch it grow. This person can have extremely high standards and boundaries. I feel like it's been so hard for you to get close to their heart and get them to open up to you. One of the most important things you are manifesting is freedom and release from this relationship that's held you back emotionally. You've been holding on emotionally and maybe even mentally and physically for others, but spirit is saying to let go. Let the inevitable happen. When a situation is falling apart over and over and just not working, that is a big sign you're resisting change.

It's important to control what you can control and that's you. You have power over yourself and nothing else. You create the life you want by treating yourself the way you want to be treated and not allowing others to dismiss you and influence you negatively. You do not have to tolerate people who do not want to love you the way you deserve to be loved. You are manifesting so much love in your life and I feel like even if this situation didn't work out as planned, you are manifesting a long term relationship with someone who really compliments you and helps bring in balance just as you do for them. I see you pushing each other to be your best selves, supporting each other, nurturing, providing, teaching, healing, all that good stuff. This is someone you can create a family with.

Pile Two:

Song: One More Night -Maroon 5; Higher -Tems; A Change Is Gonna Come -Sam Cooke

Angel Number: 6, 66, 666

Channeled Words: Crack, disco, microphone, tissue, latest, ally, influence, chauvinist, kidnap, slot.

Channeled Names: Parris, Svetlana, Carlotta, Marcus, Ayan, Samyukatha, Miklo, Fernando, Jason, Olivia, Nazar, Dema, Ahriman, Alijah.

You're manifesting growth, possibilities, answers, awareness, love, & so much more. Right now, things aren't as tangible as you would like them to be. Your manifestations may not be appearing on the surface or showing up right on your door step, but the energy is there. I feel like you're learning very important lessons. There is something you are being called to do and I feel like you've been hesitant about making a decision or a choice. Your emotions were clouding your perception in the recent past and I feel like it's made you feel very confused and indecisive. There's been a lot of temporary situations and I feel like you've made the choice of investing your time and love into the wrong things. I'm seeing you learning from this and managing your ego in a much healthier way. You may have made choices impulsively without thinking of the consequences and this is because you acted on a feeling. You're learning that not every feeling needs to be acted upon. We must know what is right for us and what isn't. Sometimes are own feelings can deceive us, which is why we must learn to be more mindful and trust our intuition when we're feeling a certain way about something. I feel like there was a situation you had a hard time trying to understand, and you may have continuously questioned yourself trying to figure out the truth about why it is you feel the way you do about something or someone. For some of you, you kept going back to a person you had an unstable relationship with even though you felt in your body you shouldn't have. You may have ignored your intuition and allowed this person to come in and be emotionally deceptive and manipulative to you. For others of you, I feel like you just had a hard time making the smartest decisions because of your emotions. You haven't had a peace of mind for a while, but I see you manifesting this energy within yourself. It's like a whole new you. This phase of your life is coming to an end and you're changing in ways you probably didn't think you would. I feel like for the most part, you knew change was inevitable and nothing stays the same forever. I see you getting a wish fulfillment and feeling really inspired by these new lessons you're learning. When I say inspired by them, I mean you're ready to use the knowledge you've gained and apply it to your life. This is a powerful change even if it may seem small to you. I see you releasing your fears of the past and embracing the good times you had. You may be fearful of intimacy and opening up to people because you've been betrayed, deceived, and hurt. It's hard sometimes to learn how to trust in love again. I feel like you will be overcoming the things that hold you back from being your best self and stepping into a more disciplined, stable, hardworking, and passionate energy. You know when to use your logic and when to set boundaries. It took you some time to gain the self-control you have now, but you manifested this for yourself and because of that you will be able to create long term success, relationships, and build a home for you and your family. People from your past will try and pop back up into your life but use your discernment. For those of you with someone you are struggling with romantically, I feel like this person tries to be very kind, lighthearted, and maybe even flirts with you. I feel like they really like you they just have a hard time being confident, secure, and in their best energy. They've been feeling really insecure and doubtful about themselves because they've hurt you and disappointed you because of their ego. I know you might be upset with them, but spirit is saying to have compassion and understanding. We all make mistakes as humans and we shouldn't change ourselves because someone else hurt us. Even though pain can change us, it doesn't have to be negatively. I feel like this person was very depressed and pessimistic about love. They had a bad attitude when it came to seeing the bigger picture.

They may have lied to you, didn't express how they felt emotionally, played games with you, and maybe even rude towards you when you didn't do anything. I feel like you've been doing your best to understand them, have compassion, patience, and be supportive but they still weren't satisfied. Conversations with this person may have turned into disagreements, conflict, arguments, and them just wanting to be right. They didn't even understand how they felt and why they acted the way they did because I feel like they were acting from a place of insecurity and fear. They let their ego get the best of them and I feel like they're realizing it within themselves, but this isn't something they talk to you about often. I do see you that you guys have discussed it before, but not in a healthy way. They may have come off very rude about it and hurt your feelings without any consideration of how they made you feel. It's like they use honesty to be malicious. They act like if they are honest with you, then it's okay for them to be prideful and arrogant. Anyways, they know your worth. They know the type of person you are and they see you in a positive light, they just don't feel like way about themselves. They could be jealous. Jealous because they don't feel as good about themselves as you do. You're loving, compassionate, nurturing, healing, smart, patient, abundant, self-reliant, and to them you have it all together. Even though they have all of these qualities, they compare themselves to you. I'm seeing that right now you're feeling this energy of very deep emotion and love. You could feeling particularly empathetic and intuitive. It's a heightened sense of spiritual awareness. Spirit is saying that mentally you haven't come to this awareness of how you feel. It's like you don't understand the lesson or message you're supposed to be receiving through your mind. It could be that all the hard work and effort you've been putting into your manifestations are coming to fruition and it has to do with love as well. You're healing and overcoming hard times you thought you'd never get over. I see someone from your past that took advantage of your time and energy wanting to communicate with you about how they've been feeling. I see them bringing up old memories and past moments you've shared when times were good between you and wanting to move forward with you in some way. I see you feeling stuck in your head about this person and not really knowing why you feel the way you do and it's because there is an opportunity you manifested with this person to be able to start something long term together. You're having a difficult time letting go of the past memories and experiences that hurt you and that's why you aren't seeing this opportunity, but you will. I see them speaking their mind to you and helping you get clarity over how you feel. Right now, is a good time to listen to how you feel and trust your intuition. Don't listen to your fear. Open yourself up to love and opportunities coming your way.

Pile Three:

Song: November Rain -Guns N' Roses; Here Comes The Sun -The Beatles

Angel Number: 4, 44, 444

Channeled Words: Soft, sofa, flexible, X-ray, single, spit, flush, condition, flood, extort, pain, carnival, octopus, sing, candy, tattoos.

Channeled Names: Polya, Simon, Raheim, Bhaskar, Achaikos, Krastyu, Gabriella, Alicia, Nathan, Eva, Gabriele, Alejandro.

I see you coming out of a period of solitude. You've been spending time alone trying to calm your mind and connect with yourself. I feel like you've also been using this time alone to heal and overcome this heartache you felt. It made you feel insecure and unworthy of happiness, and I feel like you're manifesting many opportunities to create abundance and happiness for your life. You've grown self-reliant and emotionally content with yourself and where you are in life. If you don't feel this way, I see this coming in for you. You're going to be starting something new and venturing off into new horizons, seeking adventure and fun. I feel like your life has been a bit mundane and routine and you're wanting to do things differently and open yourself up to joy and feeling more of a free-spirited energy. Something very unexpected is going to happen very quickly is what I'm hearing, and I feel like intuitively you may have felt it coming or just had this inner knowing, but whatever it is it's going to be an outcome that you are happy with. It is divine intervention and I feel like God is doing things behind the scenes to help a situation come into fruition for you. For some of you, it is a long-term relationship with someone you know or been with and have shared very deep sentimental experiences together. For others of you, you're deepening your spiritual beliefs and your faith. I'm seeing that God is going to do something that will help strengthen your faith even more. Continue being generous and giving to those in need. Whether it be words of wisdom, love, time, money, whatever it is you're doing to help someone else. In terms of love, I see you or someone else making a decision to communicate. There has been distance emotionally, physically, maybe even all together and I see that for some of you, you're going to see this person face to face, for others maybe over text or the phone, it could even be at a social event. Some type of apology will be made, and I feel like it'll have something to do with how you guys' left things or treated each other in the past. I see there is a very good chance you two can end up together for a long time. Don't rush anything or be impulsive. Take your time and be patient with the way things progress. In general, I see you've manifested this whole entire spiritual rebirth and a lot of things in your life are going to be changing. I see that when you get to this place in your life when you're financially and/or materially abundant, spirit is saying to be wise on how you spend your blessings. This goes for your time, energy, money, love, all that stuff. Don't be impulsive and let bad habits put you in a place where you may lose your abundance or take it for granted. I feel like it could go good or it could go bad. It'll be different for everyone, but the chances of things going well are really high as long as you allow them to be. Take care of yourself. Manage your time, energy, and resources in a practical and diligent way.

[rustingcat]

Chapter 3 Kara

"For years I felt the weight of Krypton, its legacy and history laid on my shoulders, and I felt like a failure for never having the chance to educate Kal. But after learning about Argo, it's like some of this weight was lifted off my shoulders, knowing I'm not the only one out there who remembers, that it's not on me. Yet, I feel detached? I don't know, it feels different from what I remember. I mean it is different, it's nothing like how Krypton was, but they are all Kryptonians. You know what I mean?" Kara turned to Lena, she wasn't sure what she was hoping to find in her eyes, but it softened the moment they met.

"I think so." Lena nodded. "Although, considering that you were barely a teenager back then, it would make sense."

"I suppose." Kara swallowed hard.

They were sitting on Kara’s couch with the plans for the machine laying in front of them.  It was two days after they had come back from Argo. Kara had managed to translate most of it, enough for them to at least start.

"You mentioned that you can basically control how the child would turn up with the matrix, right?"

"Not exactly, you can't control your child's every decision, but essentially yes. You can choose how they look, and you can choose their um… brain type? We had a name for it in Kryptonese."

"So did your parents choose what you would be?" Lena finally asked.

"In some ways, yes." She said a bit distanced. "They didn't care much about my appearance or gender, but they made sure my mind would be sharp, curious and analytical. Basically creating me to be a scientist before I was even born. And it worked, you know? I grew up loving it. As my dad said, I was the youngest person to be considered to join the science guild, and I bet I would've gotten in too."

Lena remained silent. Not that she expected her to say anything, but she wasn't sure what to do nex.

Kara took a sip of her water. Staring intensity into the plans, yet not really focused on them she continued talking. "I thought about it a lot, you know, how my life would look like had I grown up there. What could I have created, how many lives I could've improved, how much I could've advanced our species. But the more I think about it the more I realised how lucky I was to escape that fate." Kara finally dared to raise her head, meeting Lena's gaze as she felt her eyes fill with water. "Am I a bad person for thinking that?" Her voice broke as the tears started running freely down her face. 

Lena scooted over, engulfing her dearest friend in a tight hug. "Not at all." She whispered in her ear. "There's nothing wrong about finding happiness. But we'll make sure that if we ever make this public we'll do our best so that no one could use it to put more pressure on anyone." She combed her fingers through her hair to ground her.

Kara exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. The reason the plans were not yet fully translated were not because of language complications or any math difficulties, but because she couldn't bring herself to complete it. It felt too heavy of a task.

"It's just- that I love my job. I love singing, painting, and playing games with my friends and I know that I would've never gotten to do any of that had I lived on Krypton. It was all about doing your part, and not much else. And there are still many many good things that I loved about Krypton and many problems I have with earth. But I still prefer to be here, and I feel awful about it. Like I failed everyone, I failed my purpose in life."

"You are Kara Zor-El Danvers. Your name tells a journey and your journey is not yet over. You are not a bad person for having emotions. You've been through a lot and you still came out on top. You are still so full of kindness, love, and hope. How can that be a failure? How can it be anything but the greatest thing in life? You are amazing Kara and I'm sure the rest of your journey would be just as amazing."

"Thank you." Kara whispered into her neck in a sob.

"How about we order another pizza and watch a movie instead?" Lena suggested, whispering quietly in her ear.

"Yeah," Kara smiled weakly. "That would be great."

[tokkishouse]

heyyy, okay so I read the cute lil Tighnari post and I died a lil (a lot actually, it was so cute pls my heart can't take it) If you have the time could you pls post more abt him 👁👁

I physically need more of that man, it doesn't really matter if it's sfw or nsfw or both. I just need more posts on this man or I will fall over and die 🛐

You 🤝 Me --> Needing more Tighnari content Say no more babes.

(Sfw) Tighnari as a Boyfriend

Characters: Tighnari x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, subtle yandere themes

WC: 0.8k words

Fennec foxes mate for life. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Tighnari is loyal to a fault. Some of the villagers and even fellow rangers may try to woo him, but his eyes are focused on you and you alone

This also applies in the opposite direction-- if anyone flirts with you, he's by your side and growling at the offender, canines bared and ready to bite. Poor Al-Haitham got a bit of a shock when an off-handed, semi-flirtatious statement earned him a bone-chilling glare from Tighnari and the feeling of claws around his neck. Please give this man all of your attention

Gets very excited if you groom his ears and tails-- he likes to keep them nice and presentable for you and what better way to do that than to have you preen as you see fit?

Speaking of grooming-- if you do a particularly favorable job at it, he'll purr. Idc if foxes cant purr, Tighnari can. It's barely audible, trading sound for power as it's strong enough to be felt all over your body. Once he's purring you've won-- you could ask him anything and he'll probably say yes to it

Always brings you something from his expeditions-- from flowers to unique plants and strange creatures-- as long as he's vetted it to be safe, Tighnari will bring it home for you to keep. His tail curls up in anxiety as he watches you carefully inspect the gifts he brings home, but it always relaxes when he sees your delighted smile and you look at him with such adoration keep your eyes only on him

Speaking of his tail, it's the biggest indicator of his mood. If it's still, he's either in a neutral state or very focused. If it's swaying back and forth, he's calm and perhaps happy-- the faster it sways the happier he is. If it drags behind him on the floor like it has no life, he's upset. And if it curls up very tightly he may be a tad excited.

It also naturally seeks you out. If you stand next to him, it automatically wraps itself around your leg, waist, or just all over your body. You're familiar and safe, and it's a way of staying as close and connected to you as possible. It does make for some unfortunate moments when one of you decides to move abruptly, tugging the poor thing hard and lightly spraining it.

He will lecture you if you get in trouble or hurt yourself, but not out of anger-- only frustration and worry. He loves you very dearly and he doesn't want to think of a world without you. Tighnari's lectures are just another way of him expressing his concern for you and your safety. This also means that before you go anywhere, even if it's down the road to a local merchant, he'll make sure you have an emergency pack fully stocked. He can't have you tripping over a root and injuring yourself, and without anything to self-treat, now can he?

The cooler seasons are the best time to cuddle with him-- the fur on his ears and tail get slightly thicker to adjust to the falling temperatures, which makes sleeping curled up against the tail all the more comforting. Its extra warmth makes cool breezes and nightly chills a thing of the past.

While he does have a nickname or two for you, he doesn't call you by it often. Saying your name is loving as it is-- it's your name. It carries the weight of your history and how far you've come-- who you are. To him, that is the most precious thing and every time he says your name, all that information floods his brain as he conjures up the image of you, his lovely partner. During more sappy and romantic moments though, he will throw in a nickname for you here and there.

He may tease and be sarcastic with you, but if you express your discomfort, he'll stop immediately. However, if you can match his snarkiness and shoot back your own witty retorts, you'll have him completely ensnared. An off-handed comment turns into a full-blown snark fest with neither of you willing to give up until you leave the other completely stumped. It makes those around you either annoyed or amused. After all, anyone that can keep up with Tighnari's wit is sure to make a worthy opponent.

All in all, Tighnari is a very caring boyfriend with his own quirks. If you're lucky enough to be chosen by him, you'll have quite the satisfactory relationship-- one that only inspires joy and free love. Just be mindful not to set off one of his more fox-like instincts. It often can get...messy.

Requests (both sfw and nsfw) are open~! If you want a nsfw version of this lmk

[fluffyprettykitty]

glorification

Pairing: Sam Wilson x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 900 words

Outline: Your professor wants to thank you for your stellar academic performance.

Warnings: riding, penetration, spit play, breast play, finger sucking, daddy kink, age gap, praise kink, biting. if i forgot anything major let me know!

Author’s Note: thanks to my lovely lia for coming up with thots for this one, all sam aus I promised will be coming ahead! any thots about sam are much welcome!

PS: dividers & banners by @saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

"That's my good girl!"

Sam smiles as his hands move further down your hips gripping your ass as you begin to ride him harder. Still wearing all of your college clothes, your hands on his shoulders helping you to hold on down his thick cock.

"Hmmm, daddy." You moan digging your nails into his vest. "T-thank you."

"Oh baby, you don't have to thank me. If you weren't so brilliant and smart then there wouldn't be much to do." Sam continues shining a gold smile at you as his one hand holds your chin caressing your cheek with the thumb. His other hand is on your waist pushing you closer to him.

"No d-daddy!" You moan as you roll your hips. "It's you. I wouldn't have made it without you."

"Oh baby, let's just say I helped put you on the right road. Alright? Pushed you right where you needed to be."

You opened your mouth to protest more but he only pushed his finger inside your mouth forcing you to suck on it and shutting your insecure thoughts. Sure he was your professor, but he only taught you one class while you had achieved straight as across all of your classes, that's not something he could solely take credit for, this was all you.

"Look at you." He smiles more pushing another finger inside your mouth as you are using your tongue to lick around them, your brain getting a little fuzzy. "Speed it up, baby. Show me how happy Daddy makes you." He chuckles knowing you are going to eat that shit right up, pleasing him was your favorite thing in the world and you wanted nothing more than to prove yourself to him again and again.

"Mmm." You try to mumble something but it's impossible to speak and you start riding his cock again, bringing your body up and down his shaft while your hands hold onto his strong shoulders. He feels so full inside you that you can feel him everywhere making your knees fall further as you push your body towards him.

Sam finds his opportunity to nuzzle his face across your contained chest and using his teeth pops a couple of buttons of your dress shirt open. He uses the flat of his tongue on your bare skin above your bra and slowly he reaches his target pushing the fabric of your bra away. Taking his free hand to hold the base of your breast he takes your nipple between his lips and starts circling it with his tongue.

You try to speak as you moan more, wanting to chant his name but he only pushes his fingers deeper inside your mouth causing you to clench hard around his cock. He doesn't seem to mind as he continues to suck on your nipple with his eyes closed. You decide to pick up the pace, hopping up and down his cock faster, your wetness mixed with his precum and the copious amount of spit you provided allowing you to move much more freely.

Sam lets go of your nipple only to sweetly kiss around your breast and up your collarbone. You eyes stay focused on him as you try to breathe around his finger and he chuckles at you with glee. "Look at my good girl, look how good she makes me feel. Where did I get so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the world here in my lap acing her tests and watching her bloom into her finest self?"

You want to kiss him and you move your head and he immediately understands, slipping his fingers away and crushing his lips against yours, until your lips become so entangled into one another breathing inside. You switch it up from up and down to side and side wanting him to feel all of you and take him as much you can, you are aware of how much he loves but he wants you to feel just as good as well.

It doesn't take him to long for his breaths to get shorter and you know what that means, so you roll your hips in a way that allow your pussy to clench hard on his cock, trapping him inside and making sure he'll cum right there. He chuckles as he kisses down your throat and once he can feel his orgasm reaching him, he bites down your throat to supress his moans -it's his office anyway and even if the doors and windows are locked you can never know you could possibly be passing by.

Sam shoots his cum inside you, slowly but gloriously at last and you try hard not to shout your own as you bite down your lips to keep yourself quiet. Reaching your pleasures together was your favorite thing and you almost could never finish unless he did, something that he wants so much to change deep within you.

Your arms wrap around his back and pull him closer as you collapse on his chest and he embraces you into him trying to catch his breath. He begins to overuse your name in a low chant as you are both breathing into each other.

In a couple of minutes when you will both be getting ready to leave your private tutor session, Sam will be promising you a date to remember and you know that he always keeps up with his promises.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[deathblacksmoke]

take me as you please

pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo

cw: oral sex, cum swallowing, lovey dovey boys, so much kissing (these birds are in love), fluffy n smutty

author’s note: follow up to aphid attraction but can be read on its own. this took me long enough to write that i’m sure it will haunt me. my brain’s gone rotten.

title from “take me as you please” by the story so far.

**************************************************************

“Are we going to talk about it?” Noah asks, the silence between him and Nick having dragged on for too long.

They’re on the tour bus, the others squeezing in naps before tonight’s show, so he figures that now is as good a time as he’ll ever find to bring it up.

At the sound of Noah’s voice, Nick doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Talk about what?”

It’s been weeks since Nick walked in and everything should have changed. That’s what Noah had assumed, at least, that there was no coming back from a moment like that.

Yet everything has remained exactly the same, not a hint of anything different, and he knows he should be relieved. As grateful as he is to still have his best friend, Nick’s promise of a next time has been replaying in his head since that day. On a loop, haunting him. He can’t let it go.

“I’ll touch you next time.” Noah says, repeating Nick’s words back to him and watching as his eyes widen. Nick’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he settles on keeping it closed, placing his phone on the couch beside him and staring at his shoes.

“Did you forget you said that?” Noah asks, feeling suddenly cocky upon seeing Nick so shy. He could take advantage of the sudden shift, having a leg up on Nick for the first time in ages, but he decides against it and goes easy on him. Nick shakes his head and Noah grins, scoots closer to him, their thighs barely touching. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“Sure.” Nick says, but he’s fidgeting worse than Noah has ever seen, his voice soft and wavering. Without thinking too much of it, Noah grabs his hand to stop him from continuing to pick at the skin of his fingers. “Or we can forget I ever said that.”

The thing is, Noah really doesn’t want to. He’s happy to pretend it never happened if that’s what Nick needs, if it will salvage their friendship, but he can’t get it out of his head. He’s tried. He’ll pretend for Nick. He’ll let it go. Forgetting just isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.

It’s burned into his brain, the way that the mention of a next time had made his heart race. The way his grip on his cock instantly tightened, chasing that feeling. The way the thought of a next time with Nick had made his vision blur as he came over his fingers with Nick’s name on his lips.

“If that’s what you want.” Noah says. With Nick’s hand still in his, he can’t ignore how the fidgeting has completely stopped. He‘ll let himself take the credit for that but he won’t comment on it. “I‘ve been looking forward to my next time, though, if that’s okay with you.”

Nick looks a little shocked and Noah wants to feel smug, but he’s more focused on getting what he’s been wanting for all these weeks. If he’s being honest, he’s been wanting this for a whole lot longer.

“Does that surprise you?” Noah asks and Nick nods, so shy. It makes Noah want to swallow him whole. “I don’t know why. You caught me jerking off to you. You saw how hard I came when you mentioned it.”

Nick’s cheeks turn beet red and Noah needs him.

“Can I kiss you?” Nick asks suddenly, catching Noah off guard, but he’s nodding before he can think better of it, moving in to close the distance between them.

It’s not at all how he remembers their kisses being, years ago when they were young, drunk, and bored. The rushed and sloppy little nothings they shared in the back of the van, dark bars, Nick’s living room. Those were nothing like this. Now, he’s aware of everything. Nick’s lips - the irresistible softness and how he wants to kiss them forever. The slide of Nick’s tongue along Noah’s bottom lip and how easy it is to open up and let him in. How natural it feels to thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Nick’s head and tug a little. The soft sound Nick makes into his mouth. The way he would kill to hear it again.

He swears he can hear Nick’s heartbeat. He can feel it. He swears his own will beat out of his chest.

It’s nothing like the way it used to be.

“Can I touch you?” Noah breathes into Nick’s mouth. Nick doesn’t answer with his words, but a hand landing high on Noah’s thigh, and it’s enough to make him gasp and squirm closer, but not enough to calm away his bubbling nerves. “Nick, tell me I can.”

Nick takes Noah’s hand in his own, placing it high on his thigh, mirroring his own. Nick’s hands aren’t shaking anymore, growing confident. Noah’s shaking like a leaf now, ego dying, cockiness completely gone.

Nick notices, because he’s always been able to read Noah better than anyone. He takes it easy on him.

“You can touch me.” Nick says, cupping Noah’s cheek and pressing kisses along his neck. Noah’s hand moves higher, to where Nick is growing harder in his jeans. Noah grins when Nick gasps. Their eyes meet. “Of course you can, Noah. I’ve been waiting.”

With the permission finally given, Noah finds his hesitation gone. It’s only moments before he has Nick laid out on his back and he’s covering his body with his own, kissing him until they’re both breathless.

Noah can’t remember a time before he first started dreaming of this, slotting himself between Nick’s legs, grinding against him slow and filthy, breathing into his open mouth and tasting his breath. He can hardly believe he gets to have it. He can only hope he’ll get to have it again.

He’s taken out of his thoughts when Nick’s hand moves from its place in Noah’s hair, moving between their bodies to reach down the front of Noah’s sweats, palming him. Nick’s smile is wicked when Noah groans and he wants to kiss it off his pretty face, but he’s too distracted to do fucking anything. It feels too good. He’s been waiting for this for too long.

“Shit, Nick.” Noah gasps, resting his forehead against Nick’s shoulder to try and catch his breath. He feels so much. Nick’s hand is sliding into his underwear to grip his cock but he feels him everywhere.

“Come on,” Nick says, his other hand moving to the back of Noah’s head, fingers threading through his hair as his hand moves over his cock. He tugs, trying to lift Noah’s head but Noah fights it. He can’t stomach meeting his eyes right now, not when he’s a mess like this. “Come on, Noah. Look at me, please.”

When Noah lifts his head to look at him, he wants to be embarrassed by how wrecked he knows he looks, but he can’t when Nick is cupping his cheek and smiling, gaze soft and comforting. Grounding in a way that only Nick can be.

“Is this what you wanted?” Nick asks, grip tightening, and Noah is nodding, because of course it is. “Yeah, me too.”

Noah groans, closes his eyes. The admission overwhelms him, although he supposes he already knew, with the way Nick is touching him. He’s so surrounded. He didn’t know it could feel like this. He was waiting for Nick this whole time.

He’s nipping at Nick’s neck when he slides his hand between them, popping open the button of Nick’s jeans and reaching in to take him in his hand, too. The angle is uncomfortable, cramped, but he can tell he got the grip right when Nick gasps, rhythm faltering for a moment.

“Fuck,” Nick groans, breath warm in Noah’s mouth when their lips meet, just barely, more resting over each other than kissing. Nick gets his rhythm back quickly. Noah finds his determination to get Nick there first, tightening his grip and speeding up, until Nick is speaking again. “That’s it. That’s good, baby.”

The pet name alone would be enough to send him over the edge, with or without Nick’s hand moving over him expertly and perfect. Noah is spilling over Nick’s hand with a desperate gasp before he has the chance to realize he’s doing it.

He buries his face in Nick’s neck to catch his breath and calm down, placing kisses there. Nick’s breath is still labored when he removes his hand, wipes the cum on his jeans, which he would find gross with anyone else but endearing with Nick.

Noah’s own hand has stilled and Nick immediately tries readjusting when Noah takes his hand out.

“No, wait,” Noah says, placing a hand over Nick’s to stop him. He’s scooting down on the sofa, even more cramped than before, face to face with Nick’s cock. “Let me, please.”

He knows they don’t have much longer to be alone together. He’s not sure how much time has passed since they started, but he swears he heard Jolly moving around in his bunk. He would rather have the chance to tell them, instead of them finding out by getting an eye full, but he can’t let the day end without getting Nick in his mouth.

Now that he knows he’s allowed it, he wants it now.

He’s surprised by how much he likes it, immediately, on the first slide in. Maybe it’s just because it’s Nick, but Noah thinks he tastes like absolute heaven.

He doesn’t have any tricks, just what he knows he likes. He may be inexperienced in this realm, but pulls out all the stops he knows, anyway, cupping Nick’s balls in one hand, working what his mouth can’t reach with the other, sucking on the head, pointed tongue dipping in.

He knows he’s doing a good job when Nick gasps, tightens the grip he has on Noah’s hair.

“Fuck, Noah, how did you get so good at this?”

From thinking about you, he thinks but doesn’t say, just moans around Nick’s cock and giggles when the grip Nick has in his hair tightens even more.

He can tell he’s close. From the shaking of his thighs, the groans getting more and more frequent and harder to keep quiet. He would pray Jolly and Folio don’t hear but right now, he couldn’t care less. Right now all he cares about is Nick’s hand tightening in his hair, and the tiny little moans of his name.

“Noah,” Nick says, cupping his cheek, so gentle for the position they’re in and he basks in it. “Noah, I’m gonna cum.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s taking in as much as he can, eyes brimming with tears but it’s worth it for the sounds Nick is making, thrusting shallowly into Noah’s mouth before stilling, cum spilling down his throat.

He swallows every drop. He knows Nick would like it and is proven right when he looks up at him, eyes as blown as he’s ever seen.

He’s tucking Nick back into his pants and crawling up his body. Nick doesn’t hesitate before cupping the back of his head, bringing their lips together, licking into his mouth.

“You did so good, baby.” Nick says and Noah glows.

He wants to talk about it. They will talk about it.

They don’t have the opportunity before they hear the sound of a curtain sliding open.

[loverboy-havocboy]

Hi! From the WIP ask game, would you elaborate on / gives us a share of the "omegaverse pack" ? :D

i gave the gist of this one here - but i'm happy to expand on it (with what little i have haha)

~ 1 hour later ~

you sent me on a spiral, bestie. i opened this ask to answer it an hour ago and have been ironing out a real outline/first draft since then. so now you get more.

also, i think i forgot to mention on the first post that this was born in @babygirlbridger's dms and fed by her freak brain <3

outline snippet:

Boost sequesters them away, but Wolffe comes to their quarters to check on them and what he finds is the three of them curled up in one bunk in just their lower blacks. Boost is holding both of them against himself because the only thing he can really offer is skin-on-skin contact. There’s nothing he can do for their heats. But they’re in a shitty nest Boost made for them with their combined three pillows and blankets. Comet and Sinker look like hell - their skin is flushed and shining with sweat, their curls stick to their foreheads, and the strength of the omega scent in the air nearly knocks Wolffe on his ass as soon as he steps into the room.   The situation he walks into has Wolffe’s scent flaring, his own hormones and instincts rushing to take over, but he holds himself back because as soon as Boost sees him he’s out from under his batchmates - standing between them and Wolffe.  Wolffe is like a shark smelling blood in the water and Comet and Sinker immediately whimper when they hear him growling, "What's going on here?” Boost tries to block his view of them, but with the scent in the air it’s painfully obvious what’s going on - not to mention, as soon as Wolffe’s scent thickens, the omegas are whining and weakly pulling at their lowers, begging for the alpha to help them. Boost is cycling back and forth rapidly between snarling at Wolffe (“I’ve worked so hard to protect them and I’ve lost everything, I’m not losing them too. You’ll turn them in over my dead fucking body.”) and trying to calm Comet and SInker, telling them to be quiet and lay still.  Boost’s protectiveness is in overdrive - he’s never felt this amped up in his life. He’s going to protect his batchmates even if it means fighting Wolffe off with his bare hands. He’s shaking with the effort of it. It’s engineered into his DNA to back down in the face of an alpha AND a commanding officer, and Wolffe is both, but Comet and Sinker are also written into his DNA and they’ll always win out over any other instinct, even if Wolffe’s scent flaring threatens to bring him to his knees.

He steps further into the room, but doesn’t go for Comet or Sinker. He stops at Boost - comes up so close he’s almost chest to chest, nose to nose with the man, and brings a hand up to his cheek. Boost can’t help but push into the touch with a choked whimper.  Wolffe murmurs to him, “It’s alright. You can rest now, pup. I’m here, I’ll take care of you - all of you. Please trust me, Boost.” The thing is - Boost does trust Wolffe. He kept a level head while they were sitting ducks in a field of debris and bodies, he calmed all of them and helped them keep focused. He believes Wolffe will take care of them. That’s all it takes for him to finally fall to his knees, head on Wolffe’s thigh. Wolffe runs his fingers through Boost’s curls and shushes him gently, then looks over the two omegas whose eyes are glued to him.  His instincts scream at him to take them - to fuck them and fill them and make them his. But he fights the urge because he knows they’re out of their minds with need. They can’t really know what they want - if they really want him to touch them or if they’re just desperate to be touched.  But then Sinker finally manages to get his lowers off and fucking presents for him, thighs shining with an abundance of slick and shaking with the effort of holding himself up and fuck, that’s a sight.  Pressure on his codpiece - torturous against his already hard cock - draws his attention downward, to where Boost is nosing at it tentatively.  “Help them, sir, please,” he beseeches mournfully, “I can’t help them.” Comet and Sinker whimper in agreement.

draft snippet:

so. yeah. :)

@brokenphoenix99 @insertmeaningfulusername @babygirlbridger pspspsps

[faundlydreaming]

Sweetly Wicked Dreams

Ao3 Link

Characters: Spawn!Astarion x Named Tav (Fi, female) Rating: Mature Warnings: Mental Illness, Psychosis (Tav), angst, psychological hurt/comfort, trauma, tragic romance Word count: 1978

Summary: What happens when you finally find the love of your entire soul and you both are finally happy? Sure, things may not be perfect, but what's important is that you both have found home in one another. That, in itself, is a form of freedom, isn't it? What happens when that happiness slowly slips away in the form of mental illness, when your love no longer recognizes you, and neither of you can do anything about it? Author's Notes: This takes place about 10 years post game :) Spawn!Astarion and Fi have been together since then, but unfortunately they're not out of the woods yet with Astarion still not being able to walk in the sun and Fianna slowly losing her sense of self.

“Fianna?”

“Hm?”

Fi sat on their shared bed, unaware of the hours she spent staring into the elaborate patterns painstakingly sculpted into the ceiling of their room. Astarion’s voice sounded hard, eager, with a sorrow-filled hint of desperation that was beginning to become all too common. It sliced through her delirium like a blade through smoke, but just like smoke, it settled back into place with nary a sign of ever having been disturbed.

Once again, her brain was filled with a fog that made the world slow, her head pulsing with something akin to a headache without the pain, but all of the disorientation included in it. The world was dream-like this time, the light within their bedroom too bright and haze-filled, and the shadows clear without the usual haunts that pushed her into absolute terror. For now, the silver moonlight that danced with the flickering orange of candlelight poured through the window and bathed the pair, adding to the unearthly realm that Fi’s weary mind resided in.

 Beside of her, Sasha slept on the bed, Fi’s hand finding perchance in the lupine’s soft, creamy fur in an unconscious attempt to ground herself to this reality. Fianna’s eyes slid to Astarion slow and curious, the white-haired elf a beautiful relic of their history that at the moment, she did not remember. As her vision focused on the stranger, the realization of his presence cumbersomely caught up to her and a cavernous fear struck through her like a mace to a skull. 

Things weren’t so slow anymore. 

The tiefling’s body tensed, her eyes once soft and ethereal now stoney and rabid. She dipped her chin into her chest, shoulders hunching as her tipped ears lowered like the familiar animal she slipped into when her mind lapsed like this. 

 A longer than typical whip-like tail slashed behind her as she crouched on the bed, baring her sharpened teeth at Astarion with a growing rage that switched instantly from her previous hazy state. Her thin, white chemise clung to her body like a vice that she dragged her claws across to tear through with how restricting it was, anything to bring down the threat that stood fearfully in front of her with his muscles equally tensed and a jaw set tight. 

“Fi!” He yelled. “It’s me, it’s Astarion. Please, darling.” 

Her snarl roiled into a low growl. She didn’t move, but she didn't relent either. Astarion’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow as he waited by the door, his fingers gripping the frame so tightly that his knuckles went white. This stranger knew when to back away from a predator. Smart. Her legs ached with how long she crouched on the soft mattress and glared her victim down. The murkiness of her mind grew into a storm of confusion, of animal instinct, that same instinct screaming at her to attack this being if she could not chase him away. There was no thought aside from a creature’s analytical prowess in order to survive. No clarity in her mind told her that she recognized this man, that they had traveled and loved and suffered with one another for years now. 

That he was the love of her entire being.

“My love,” he said. His voice was a quiet caress onto a wild beast that held no effect other than for her to tilt her head at him quizzically. “Please, snap out of it. You’re home, you’re safe. I’m here. I’m real.”

For just a moment she paused, her wide, disk-like eyes regarding him with a confusion that held a flicker of recognition as she raised to stand clumsily on the bed. 

A trick. She crouched again as her fingers gripped the bedsheets, ready to snap, ready to lunge at this man who claimed lies, who tried to fool her in order to capture her. She would not be fooled, he would not detain her. She would rend flesh from muscle and bone and claw and bite and scream and rage and-

“Ah!” She hissed as the pain struck like lightning through her hand. Blood began to bead on the back of her hand and on her palm as the pain of the bite mark grew with rushing heat. She snapped her eyes onto Sasha who raised her lips in a snarl, ears pinned back while the whites of her eyes overtook her amber irises. She too was balanced on the mattress with an awkward stance, her four legs spread unevenly as the claws of her paws dug into the softness below her. Sasha’s face was not one of threat, but of eyes wide with fear, her head low and tail lashing. She let loose a whine of anguish with blood that decorated her ivory teeth.

“Mother?” It was a simple question in the wolf’s singular utterance. Was Fianna there? Or was she somewhere else lost in a hells of utter terror? 

Fianna fell back onto her legs as she kneeled. The fire of her hand turned into a dull ache as lines of red trailed down her fingers and onto the white sheets of their bed. She stared at the starkness of the crimson liquid against downy alabaster sheets, so different from one another, just like the shattered sides of herself. She nursed her wound absentmindedly with her other hand as she tried to force sense into the situation. 

One moment she was in the spiraling dream that clutched her mind and lured her into a state of unreality. The next moment, it was the living nightmare as something vicious within her mind whispered sick and terrible lies. It was a wicked poison under the guise of a promise to ease her mind, to lose herself to full on psychosis. It was a promise that however horrid the consequences were, she wished she could guzzle that poison and finally end these episodes that often hurt her and the ones she loved the most. Like Kilbern and Sasha, who had no concept of what was going on. Like Astarion, who had lived through his own unrelenting madness for centuries before the pair met. Now he had to live through hers.

She did this to them. She forced them to walk as carefully as one would on ice as thin and as final as a wooden plank over the depths of the ocean. If it weren’t for her, they’d be free of her mental ailments that caused her to see things that weren’t there and threats that weren’t real. They would be free of her. She could finally stop the war between cognition and the mire of false dreams.

“Are you here, darling?” The vampire spawn’s voice was soft, trembling as he kept his distance while his fingers untensed. He stretched them open and closed to ease the ache that undoubtedly built up from the intensity of the moment. These were moments that were all too common, now. In her childhood, the lack of lucidity was a familiar and deceitful friend. At the apex of her thirties, it had come back with a hungry vengeance. 

Her world switched once again and the fog disappeared, leaving her alone with Astarion, Sasha, and her cursed self. The torrential rain of emotions followed after.

“...Stary?” Something within her filled with the warmth of relief and the keening anguish of regret. It was Astarion, her Stary. The moon-glow of his hair, the scent of  bergamot and brandy, his porcelain skin, the graceful way he carried himself like a prince or a feline. Both, really. It was all him. The recognition was a squeezing chain around her slender throat as the relief spilled into a confused whirlpool of terror and pain.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so-” Fi broke into body-wracking sobs as she curled in on herself and continued to mutter her apologies. Her tail curled tightly around her like a shield filled with shame as the knowledge of her once again losing herself came hand in hand with the returning of her normalized reality. Sasha adjusted to lean herself tightly against her tiefling mother, her long, wet kisses wiping away the blood on Fi’s hand. If it were not for Sasha, Fi didn’t know what she would have done to Astarion. She knew the elf would have allowed it, if it meant that his beloved would return to him. 

Strong arms wrapped around Fianna by her waist and pulled her into his strong chest. Astarion whispered the sweetest of words into her frizzled hair, as he always did when her life pulled these wicked twists and jests. She buried herself into him, wishing that she could meld with his unbeating heart and lose herself forever within him, into the safety of his beautiful mind and out of her own.

 She was poisoned, spoiled, rotten, and broken. 

But he was here with her, and she believed her beloved’s promises of remaining by her side despite being so useless.

“There, there, my sweet. It’s over. Sasha’s here, I am here, and everything will be alright. I promise you.” Astarion pulled her even tighter against him as he lowered himself onto the bed, laying on his side and pulling her to fit her small body against his own. She cried into his chest, her hands balling into the crisp, white cloth of his shirt as she shrunk herself into a ball and this time, lost herself into the baneful sorrow that still yet plagued her well into her adulthood. 

“It won’t stop. It’s just getting worse! I can’t live like this, Stary. I can’t put you all through this.” The words came out like a chortling stream filled with choked intonations and ragged gasps between.

“Darling, I choose this. I choose you. Weren’t you the one who stubbornly said that you wouldn’t leave my side for any reason? A pest like you wouldn’t even allow me to use the chamber pot in peace.”

“But I am leaving you. And I can’t control it. My mind is slipping, I’m forgetting days, forgetting who I am. Forgetting you. I can’t bear it any longer. Please, you’re not the only one who is losing someone. My children see this,” she motioned to herself and patted the back of Sasha’s back, who had laid down and nuzzled into her other side, “and don’t understand what is happening to me. And if you lose me, I lose you too.”

The silence was thick and heavy with the grief that played at their door. Astarion said nothing, a grimace on his face as he clenched the back of Fi’s head and planted kisses on the white of her crown. She felt the even strokes of his elegant fingers slipping through the locks of her hair, now grown from the nape of her neck down to the middle of her back. The strands splayed out behind her like fronds, mixing with the cream-white of Sasha’s fur as the wolf’s tail curled around the top of Fi’s head, Sasha’s own pointed towards their feet. 

“I love you, my heart,” Astarion said, at last bending the silence between them. “We’ll find a way out of this, just like you’ve promised me that I’ll step in the sun again someday. I promise you, we’ll be happy. We’ve come too far for our little family to fall now. Besides, Karlach would never forgive me if I failed you. Us.” Words vanished from her mouth as soon as she pushed for them to spill. Instead, she nodded into the cold of his chest, rubbing her cheek against the tear-stained front of his shirt. Her tail curled around them both, and her mind spun with webs and webs of ideas, solutions, plans, anything at all that could help them both escape from the cruel fox’s trap their life had surrendered them to.

[truth-for-lies]

He said he couldn't touch me just yet. He wants to but he just can't.

And I get that.

I truly fucked up his trust and faith in me. I made him start questioning my faith and loyalty to him.

I know that as much as I want us to be back where we were right now, it is not going to be that simple.

It will take time, a long time no doubt. I have already accepted that.

But he had a weird burst of energy late last night. It was after I had gone to sleep, and when he decided to go to bed.

His coming to bed brought me out of my sleep partially. It also brought to my attention my stupid bladder problems I've been having ever since I got the IUD inserted.

After I got back from the bathroom, he decided to joke around by laying across the entire bed. And that's fine, I was still half asleep but I knew he was just playing around.

Despite our small progress to talking again earlier that evening, and even watching a film together for the first time in a week, I didn't think we were at the point of playing around, especially in the middle of the night.

But there he was, playing around. One of the things I have been missing lately between us.

He admitted he just had a burst of energy, but wasn't horny.

I said I was sorry that he had this energy, and asked if I could do anything.

He came to the realisation that it was probably because we normally have sex, and we hadn't had it in over a week. He assured me he wasn't horny, but that was probably what it was.

Not even a minute later, he was asking for sex because it turns out he was actually horny. Or at least became so after considering it.

From barely talking, to admitting he couldn't touch me, I didn't think he would be wanting sex from me any time soon. I know he is a rather sexual being, and we had already gone nearly 3 weeks without sex while he was on holiday without me, but given my recent fuck up, I didn't think he'd be asking for sex.

I was grateful, though, that he wanted sex at all. I knew it wouldn't be the same as normal, there was no extensive kissing and foreplay, just straight to the point, penetrative sex.

I enjoyed what I could from it, but I don't think I ever reached climax, although I am never entirely upset when that occurs. Sex for me is more about bringing him pleasure than myself. I do enjoy sex, don't get me wrong, but I can't always climax.

And to be honest, the IUD had me concerned from before it was even inserted about how sex would be with it in. I know the device sits within the uterus and so it can't actually be felt by anyone, but I am also aware of the little threads poking out through the cervix which can be felt. I was worried he would feel them and it would ruin the whole experience.

There was also the fact he squeezed around my waist quite hard. It wasn't painful, not in the slightest. But I do have major body image and weight issues that I struggle with, and him squeezing what is essentially just fat had me highly self conscious, wondering if he realised how much fat he was squeezing on my body.

I don't think he is quite so aware of so many things at one time, especially during sex, but I am. And I had these 2 things overwhelming my brain to the point I couldn't allow myself to enjoy the pleasure sex brings and reach climax. There were other thoughts and issues flooding my brain at the time, but those were the two main ones.

I am so incredibly grateful to have had sex with him last night, especially in the tense situation we are currently in between us, and I hope one day, sooner rather than later, I am able to fully enjoy sex with him again. But for now I am focusing my entire efforts and energy on him, his pleasure, his comfort, his happiness.

I always do a lot of the housework, and pick up things from the shops for him that I know he needs, but now I am going to focus on that even more. Essentially nothing for me changes in that respect, I keep doing what I do, maintaining the house as best I can.

Even yesterday when he asked what I got up to, I told him about not just my physio appointment and that my ankle is improving, (I didn't even mention the fact that I can start incorporating light jumping into my rehab exercises), but I told him about I cleaned the house up a little, and he expressed his amazement and gratitude for that. I know the biggest thing he was appreciative of though was getting his car fixed.

I know the car battery was weighing so heavily on his mind, when he asked me to help him out with it, of course I was going to say yes. I know absolutely nothing about cars or cost of repairs for them, but he told me his preferred company and his absolute last resort option. Fortunately I was able to avoid his last resort, and the new battery I managed to source (including insrallation) came with good warranty. When he told me how relieved he was when he at least saw my text saying I got it sorted, I felt a sense of pride for being able to take care of something for him.

I have always, always wanted to do anything I can that may help him in life, whether that's with his daughter or help around the house or picking up things from the shops. All I want is to bring him happiness and to help make his life feel that much easier.

I know I have royally screwed up, and I know how to be more aware of things like that in future. I know it sounds ridiculous, that I "need to be aware of people/words/situations", but I do.

I have never really been one to notice when a guy is flirting with me, especially not with words. And although I am aware men find flexibility in women a "turn on", as someone who literally grew up in a world where flexibility is required for sport, my natural instinct is to retain that flexibility and show it off when asked.

In my head now, I still look back at that moment and go "I was just trying to show off how good I am at something I grew up doing but have really slacked off in adulthood". But having gone through what we have, and better understanding things from his point of view, I can see exactly how I fucked up.

I hope he knows that it was absolutely never my intention to hurt him in that way. We both know how it hurts to be cheated on. And although he saw another guy trying to get his hands on me, I would never want to be with him sexually. I've never wanted to be with anyone so badly before, and to see how badly I keep screwing things up is hurting the both of us.

I know he hurts more than I do, my pain is more hatred towards myself for having hurt him in the first place. His pain is from my actions directly affecting him.

I wish I could blame this on my lack of dating skills, my lack of emotional regulation, my lack of social intelligence, all due to my BPD and my childhood experiences. But I can't. That would be just trying to find an excuse for my poor behaviour, and that is not how I learn or grow form this.

We both want this to work out for us in the long run, but I have royally fucked up this month.

Although the end of 2023 is approaching, and many may see my trying to be better is a "2024 resolution", it is honestly a relationship resolution. A me resolution.

In fact I have already started working on myself, as difficult as that is.

I am looking towards myself and asking myself why I have done these things. And he's right. He does love me more, because for so long I have only had myself to rely on in the good times and bad. I now have someone who is in my corner, but I've never had someone's corner to be in except my own. I have grown to learn how to protect myself, when I no longer have to. I have him, and he is supposed to have me.

But all I have done lately is let him down.

So now I am shifting my focus, I will focus on protecting and supporting him. He is the number 1 person in my life now, not me.

I am not saying I am going to give up on myself, that would just be contradictory to everything I am working towards. But from now on, I will do things that benefit him and the both of us.

I support him, his dreams, his actions. I will not tear him down, or back away from his interests.

I will be there for him, and I hope that he will continue to be there for me.

[haruhey]

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Fluff | Smut | Filth February Prompt 4

Daryl thinks he likes your mouth a little too much. You, well, you’re perfectly okay with that.

or

Right now, right now, right now Right in this moment Here, here, there, there Shine a light on me Look, look, look, look

It’s Child’s Day.

At least, according to the - potentially accurate - calendar one of the residents had meticulously kept and Glenn’s memories of skipping violin lessons to play soccer with the other kids at church over a decade ago, it was. He’d said it in passing a few weeks ago, reminiscing on some of the only happy memories he’d had with his parents while shoving down some of your cooking, and when you and Daryl had gone on a run the next day, you’d loaded your bag with stuffed animals and toys.

You didn’t need to tell Daryl for him to know what was going on inside your head. To him, you were an open book.

Then the day came - a tentative, loose May 5th - and with it came the excitement. You’d told the parents of Children’s Day, told the teachers that herded the little ones into the designated makeshift-classroom garage, and got Carl to spread the word to his friends, too. The anticipation had built up over the course of two weeks, with every run crew combing through abandoned hotels and restaurants for colouring pages and crayons, recreation centers for sports balls and air pumps to fill them, and libraries for children’s books ranging from valiant knights to kindhearted fairies to national geographic, and Daryl fucking hates it.

Not the holiday - no, certainly not the holiday, because this is what the future he’s trying so damn hard to provide is supposed to look like, right? Laughing kids and smiling parents? - but it’s you he hates.

No, that’s not the right way to phrase it either. He doesn't hate you - can’t and wouldn’t, even if it meant life or death - but you, you’re-

Bringing his axe down, Daryl tears his eyes away from you, focusing back on what he’s supposed to be doing and splitting a log into two pieces with a huff. His sweat is soaking down the front of the jersey he’s wearing - it’s a stupid looking thing, blue and too tight around his shoulders - but you’d asked him to put it on and he’s ever had the heart to say no to you, let alone risk disappointing you by taking it off. So he just bares his teeth and bears the heat. 

You’re wearing one too - matching with him, if he could remember what his half-asleep brain had heard you tell him this morning. In fact, you’re really playing into the childrens’ obsession with the concept of soccer. Black athletic shorts that cut just above your knees, white socks with a bold crimson stripe that cuts mid-calf, and, fuck, do you look good. 

He hates you in that way.

You look too good for your own good.

You look too good, and he’s finding it hard to think about anything but you.

“Jesus, Daryl, slow down. You’ll pass out if you keep goin’ at ‘em like this.”

Thoughts still full of you in an outfit that all but screams you’re his, he picks up another log, flicking his bangs from his face with a quick turn of his head, and he grunts out a response, placing the piece of wood upright before adjusting the grip on his axe with a flex of his fingers.

“‘M fine.”

But he’s not. Daryl’s not fine because he’s spent the last few minutes watching you work your way through that popsicle Olivia gave you, a content smile risen on your cheekbones as your tongue gathers the cherry, lime and blue raspberry flavoured sugar. He’s not fine because you’re licking at it - wrapping your mouth around it absentmindedly as you referee a game of soccer with Morgan from the sidelines, and then poking your tongue out again to gather the liquid threatening to drop sticky sweetness onto the grass beneath you - and it’s making him think of something entirely separate than your innocent enjoyment he would have basked in otherwise.

He thinks of late nights and early mornings - of lazy days when the two of you spent hours love-drunk in each others’ arms, and when you’d doted and fucking spoiled him on the day you thought to be his birthday - and, damn it, he’s definitely not fine.

To be honest, he thinks he might be drooling violently.

He brings his axe down once more and wipes the sweat from his forehead before wiping the corner of his lips, taking large gulps of oxygen when the log splits in two and the metal blade of the tool embeds cleanly in the stump underneath it. Looking over at Rick, Daryl shields his eyes from the sun with a work-calloused hand, and squints before he manages enough breath to speak steady.

“Wha’d’ya want?”

A sigh leaves Rick’s mouth, and Daryl watches as he places a hand on his jutted out hip - The Stance, you’d called it - and there’s your canteen held out in his other. Daryl recognizes it in a second, and takes it from him, biting down a smile when he notices your handwriting on a little note you tied through the cap loop with a fraying line of twine. He fiddles with it as he screws open the piece of plastic and tilts it against his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort to meet his body’s need for water.

“There’s an arm wrestling competition goin’ on with the kids.”

When Daryl finally finishes drinking his fill, nearly half the canteen is gone and he hums vaguely at Rick’s words before taking your note between his fingers and finally reading it. 

‘Please drink this and please don’t push yourself too hard, okay? I’d miss you so so so so much if you died. I’d miss your kisses.

P.S. come give me one?’

His chest blooms in a familiar lovesick warmth from the note, a little lopsided heart and a sad face drawn at the end that makes him want to melt into the ground as if your words weren’t enough, and one corner of his mouth lilts up, his cheekbones lifting and scrunching his eyes in a look that makes Rick think of a teenager getting a Valentine’s Day card from his crush, not someone who’s been sharing a bed with the note writer for, what, a month now?

“What’s’at gotta do with me?”

Slipping your message from the canteen, he schools his expression with a clearing of his throat at the end of his sentence, blinking away the hearts in his eyes and stuffing the paper into the back pocket of his jeans. For moral support, he thinks to himself. To get him through this God awful Virginian heat.

“They wanna beat you.”

Daryl scoffs when Rick points to his sweat-coated arms still trapped in the seams of shitty soccer memorabilia, but when he looks around him, the amount of firewood he’d already cut satisfies him enough not to pick up his axe again. Or maybe it’s the thought that he’ll finally be able to do something other than the monotony that’s making his biceps sore that makes him stop and think about his decision. Maybe it’s the knowledge that his participation will make the little ones happy that makes him wipe his hands against his jeans to keep them from being too uncomfortable to grip when they eventually try their strength against his.

Or maybe it’s the thought that he can do good on that little postscript you wrote that makes him finally nod, and maybe - just maybe - that’s why his eyes are already searching for yours before he even opens his mouth to talk.

“Alright. Jus’ gimme a sec.”

A grin spreads across Rick’s face, and Daryl watches him turn, giving a couple of the kids watching him a thumbs up. Daryl huffs then, half in amusement and half in the satisfaction at the cracking sounds from his back when he stretches, and he slips the canteen across his chest as he makes his way towards the porch you’re leaning over, your arms resting on it as you call out one of the kids’ names for a foul.

It’s quick work getting to you - Daryl’s legs are long enough and he takes advantage of his swift feet, his vision torn away from you as he detours a bit to let the relay race run its course - but before he can even step foot onto one of the white-painted porch stairs, he catches sight of you crouched down, the kid you’d just yellow carded sniffing away tears in front of you.

His eyes meet Morgan’s then, and Morgan shakes his head, motioning at his own neck with a shaking cut of his fingers - now’s not a good time - and Daryl lets out a near silent dejected sigh. No kisses for now, and part of him feels embarrassed at the way he wants to pout. He’s nearing 40 by now, he reckons, and is definitely not some kid who was denied a chocolate bar at a grocery store, but damn it, he really wanted to give you those postscript kisses. 

Striding across the clearing, he makes it to the tournament taking place on a picnic table, light brown wood surrounded by kids he swears he’s never seen before. The soccer game must have ended pretty recently because some of them are still dressed in jerseys too big for their smaller bodies, red-faced and wild-haired from all the running, and Daryl’s hands are starting to get a little sweaty at the thought of being in front of so many people.

They’re children, yes, but still, it’s intimidating, isn’t it? 

Aaron notices him lingering behind, a foot taller than nearly all the kids in front of him, and he calls out his name, the sea of primary colours parting to allow Daryl to amble his way over to where Aaron’s sitting. Giving him a nod of appreciation, Daryl swings a leg over the bench, straddling it for a second before readjusting and finally taking a proper seat. 

“So, uh-“

Scratching at his little bit of beard, Daryl rests both his elbows against the tabletop, leaning forward in a low whisper to Aaron before Glenn slaps the wood beneath him, a Manchester United hat backwards and lopsided as it cuts across his forehead, and he flashes a smile at him, making Daryl’s words die in his throat as the collective attention of the kids is pulled to the bench. Aaron gives him an apologetic smile before looking at Glenn, and Daryl follows suit, squinting to keep the sun from hurting his eyes.

“Okay guys! Daryl’s here and you know what that means, right?”

Glenn waves a hand towards the prizes stacked onto the table next to him, a salesman-worthy smile on his face as he gestures to the stuffed animals in every colour of the rainbow and sets of legos that Daryl and you had scavenged from the local toy stores - he specifically remembers the Build-a-Bear he’d had to all but pull you away from because, Jesus Christ, some of them are so God ugly that it makes him wonder how they’d sold any in the first place - and the chatter from the kids gets louder, excited and eager.

“Someone has to take down Daryl in an arm wrestle so everyone can get a prize! You can go up against him as many times as you want, but he won’t hold back.”

Scanning the barely-a-classroom amount of kids eyeing the toys, Daryl takes their moment of distraction to tug on the hem of Glenn’s shirt, pulling him down enough so that he doesn’t need to speak above a whisper and potentially spoil whatever the illusion of this arm-wrestling game is. 

“‘M I supposed to let ‘em beat me?”

Glenn shakes his head, and Daryl lets his hand drop down against the seat when Glenn crouches to get level with him. 

The plan’s rather simple really, hushed whispers as Aaron stalls for time by making up rules he’s probably pulling out of his ass - ‘yes, you can definitely partner up,’ ‘No, you can’t,’ ‘Oh, c’mon, don’t give me that face you look too strong to pair up!’ - and by the time Glenn’s fully explained it, all the kids are buzzing to beat Daryl, talk of prizes igniting a determination in even the kids around Carl’s age.

The plan’s simple; don’t lose until the bonfire. And it should be pretty easy - he’s got years on the kids, the draw of his crossbow’s about a buck and he uses the thing so many times a day he needs to constantly make new arrows - but he narrowly loses as you walk by his field of vision, breaking his almost robotic takedown of his challengers through the spark of lust having sent his mind into a buzz.

He hones in on the way your hips sway with each of your steps despite it being nothing special. He’s watched you walk a million times already - admired you from the tall guard towers of the prison for months as you bent over stalks of vegetables in the makeshift gardens, and watched you do more than just walk, too, in the confines of your shared house - but, fuck, when you squat down to help tie the shoes of one of the little ones that had sought you out, the fabric of your shorts stretch across the swell of your ass in an almost insufferable tease and he chokes on his spit, sputtering for a second before slamming Carl’s hand down a little too hard onto the wooden table. 

Shit, Carl? When the fuck did Carl come to this table? Wasn’t he just across the field? Wrapped up in some conversation with that Enid girl he has a crush on?

Grumbling an apology, Daryl tears his eyes from your stupidly magnetic body with his own sheer willpower and lets go of the kid’s hand, scooting forward until the wooden seat digs into his tailbone and scratching at that spot on his neck that only seems to itch when he’s just done something that makes him want to disappear. He feels exposed - he’s without the comfort of his leather vest and his crossbow - but Carl laughs a little before standing back up, massaging the back of his hand as a smile eases onto his face, and Daryl hates the heat crawling up to his cheeks.

It takes only a second for the steam to blow over, though, and he’s thankful for that, wiping away his clammy palms on his jeans, hoping the rough denim will scrub away any more thoughts of you still lingering in his brain and staring down at the tabletop. He manages to keep his eyesight set strictly away from you for another set of tiny hands, but before Aaron can give the kids one more optimistic ‘don’t give up, team’ speech, a familiar running step, step, step pattern rounds the corner, and Daryl can feel his skin light aflame in recognition.

It’s you.

It’s you. He’d know you even in death, your hand clasped in the child’s as she leads you to the arm-wrestling table, a feeling of comfort dragged up from his memories and welling up in his chest as he hears the sound of you laughing. His eyes snap up immediately, greedy to see you with your pretty eyes and pretty lips and pretty face, and his stomach swirls in a sickly saccharine affection, his heart thumping hard against his ribcage with the sheer amount of adoration he feels for you. It’s so bright, your smile, and he’s struck lovedumb.

He remembers when he would scoff at people who acted like this - to be fair, he was young and jaded from one too many lashes of his old man’s belt to think there was any good in the world - but now, when the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life calls themself ‘his’, he gets it. He gets why poets wrote those stupid sonnets and why singers crooned and artists painted. His love for you has overwhelmed him since the second the realization made his heart rumble, and if you asked him to jump, he’d already be in the air asking you if he was high enough.

“Sun-“

Daryl’s the first to speak, a broken syllable of your nickname hitting your ears before he remembers the two of you have decided to keep your relationship more or less private, and he corrects himself with a clearing of his throat before saying your actual name.

“What- what are you doing here?”

His stutter is uncharacteristic to Glenn and Aaron - when Daryl says things, he plans it, steady and sure like the way he cocks his gun or slides his hunting knife across a whetstone - but you smile at it instead, his stumbling ingrained in you as breathless praises between your sheets and his very first confession of love.

No doubt, it reminds him of that too. How could it not when rendering him this flustered and this quick is an ease that comes to you as simply as breathing? And when you bite back another grin before sitting down across from him, patting the little one’s shoulder so affectionately it makes him think of how nicely you treat Judith, he fidgets to the edge of his seat, leaning his elbows on the tabletop and toeing at the grass beneath him.

“Aaron said the kids could have a lifeline.” Kids.

There are kids here.

His brain needs to shut the fuck up.

“And they chose me. Y’know what that means, right?”

Daryl manages out of his imagination just in time to catch you beam with a little bit of pride - he would have heard it in your voice, even if he was somehow blind enough to miss your the upwards pull of your lips - and he bites back a fond smile when he responds with a ‘what?’, blatant playful challenge in a way that makes you want to laugh. You raise your arm into arm wrestling position then and you let the lift of amusement find home on your face.

“They think I’m stronger than you.”

You’re putting on a bravado for the kids, he knows that, but there’s something so attractive about your confidence. You’ve got that glint in your eye that makes him weak in the knees, and when he raises his hand to loop his thumb with yours, an all too familiar tingle shocks the base of his spine. He blames it on the fact you run your thumb along his - that you do it so tauntingly, quirking one brow, making him think that, if this was back in the prison when you didn’t so happily call yourself his, he would lie awake at night replaying this moment over and over.

He blames it on the fact you look good in the same blue he’s wearing, too. Because Daryl refuses to blame it on the less than innocent thoughts he’s hiding behind his sarcastic remark.

“Think you can do it, then?”

You kick him under the table at that, scoffing out an inaudible breath he only knows happens because your cheeks rise into something adorable, and he misses Glenn’s countdown.

Instead, Daryl’s staring at you.

You can feel his gaze on your face, but when you shift in your seat, it’s not out of a discomfort or a fluster. Instead, it’s out of preparation. It’s out of a concentration to win. He’s staring at you, but it’s nothing new. The only new thing about it is that he’s not looking in your eyes. No, his ceruleans flick lower, caught up in the way you wet your lips - a slip of your intoxicatingly soft tongue, a fleeting bite - and your teeth catch your bottom one in a swift movement.

Fuck, it’s like the universe is against him.

How the fuck is he supposed to do anything but stare?

He’s staring so loudly he can’t hear the staccato ‘3, 2, 1’ signalling the round’s start, too busy swallowing his spit at the way he wants to press his mouth up hot and heavy onto yours, but you do. You hear Glenn just fine, and the second you can, you pull all your strength into your arm, a rocket burst of a press into the palm of his hand with yours to bring him down.

And Jesus Christ, it’s so easy.

There’s no resistance to it; a loud, dull smack of his knuckles meeting the wood table cracks through the air half a second after Glenn’s last syllable, and he doesn’t even notice it’s happened until he hears a cacophony of shrill, celebratory cheers and sees your panicked expression.

“Holy fu- Daryl? Are you okay? Shi- sorry, oh my god.”

You can't swear. There are children not even 5 feet away from the two of you, and though they may be caught up in clamouring over each other to get a toy, it still seems a little ill-placed to swear in front of them. So you school your words though schooling them means shutting up completely, and you manage an apology through wide eyes, lifting your hand still clasped in his so you can check for any damage and letting that do your speaking for you.

And instead of saying he’s fine - that it truly, really felt like nothing - he lets you look. He lets you check him for any damage because, though it’s getting increasingly hard to deny it to you, he likes it more than he can describe when you do. Daryl’s never had anyone care about him. Not anyone like you, anyways.

Biting your lip, you slide your thumb across his knuckles before unwrapping your fingers from his, giving him an apologetic smile - all soft eyes and upturned eyebrows - and he thinks his chest might burst open with how fast his heart is beating. You slide your eyes over to the prize table then, a swarm of children surrounding it like they were moths and the toys a flame, and, with Aaron and Glenn trying their hardest to regulate the greedy grabs of tiny hands, you bank on the fact they won’t notice the two of you slipping away when you rise to your feet.

Daryl would follow you anywhere in a heartbeat - he’d do it blindly, through the forests and through the seas if that was what you’d wanted - and this time is no different. Imitating your actions before you even need to speak, he rises too, barely a few steps behind you as you steal him away from everyone, and you take him behind a blue-walled house, paint chipping despite the careful glaze over it.

“Sorry. Crap, sorry, I didn’t mean to- I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

He’d matched you so many times before - wouldn’t budge no matter how many times you’d scrunch your face in a pout and ask so nicely - so how the fuck were you supposed to know today was the day he was throwing in the towel?

His back is against the wall as you speak, his hand still grasped in yours - it’s barely scratched, but he knows you worry too much about him sometimes - and when you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters, he can’t think properly enough to conjure up any words, let alone the correct ones to assure you.

So he watches you as you grab at a hose lying on the grass beside you, turning it on before you start rinsing his hands with cold water - to stop swelling, maybe? He’s not sure. You always were the smarter one when it came to stuff like this and he believes in you so emphatically he doesn’t question any of your ‘treatments’ even if they constituted as 25 kisses - and when you’re satisfied, you turn the water off, dropping the dark green plastic with a silent huff of triumph, the tiniest bit of a smile curling at your lips.

Daryl’s curiosity lasts only a second more, silence lingering before you press the back of his hand against your mouth in a quick peck, and the back of his neck burns at the image and feel of your lips. Instead, his head flicks left towards the metal walls - right towards the empty asphalt road, too - and when you pull from him, his impulse takes precedence over any ounce of self-control he has with you.

Which, in his defence, is very little to begin with.

He grabs your wrist then, wrapping his large hand around it with little effort, and in a moment’s worth of movement, he walks forward, insisting you up against the house behind you. Your body lets him move you, your back hitting the wooden-planked exterior as he cushions the back of your head with the palm of his other hand, and Daryl surrounds you after that moment - his warmth, his touch, his smell. 

“Da- Daryl what’s- oh- what- what happened back there?”

His lips are the first thing you feel, chapped and wet and needy, against your own, your jaw, your neck - any skin he can get to - making it hard for you to think. Then it's the wandering hands still stuck in their anxiety at the hem of your shirt, and then the surety of his thigh pressing up between your legs. It’s an onslaught of feeling from him, and you have to force yourself not to get lost in him, forcing your stuttered words from your mouth and forcing your eyes to stay open to watch for anyone passing by.

“You, sunshine.”

The artificial sweetness of the popsicle still lingers on your lips when he slips his tongue past them, and you press your palms into his chest, firm underneath your touch as you try and push him away enough that you can speak.

“Dar- Daryl, we- we should-“

His teeth catch on the skin of your jaw, a practised pinch that has you muffling your whimper, and when he doesn’t hear the breathy syllables of his name escape your lips, it’s like a switch flips in his brain - the reminder of the fact you’re in public and that a majority of the community doesn’t even know you’re with him in that way almost as insistent as his lust.

“Shit, right, sorry. I- I didn’t-“

Swallowing, he turns away from you, almost embarrassed at the fact he’d given into that animalistic part of his brain that seems to take over one too many times when he’s with you, and he clears his throat, pulling his hands from your shirt before he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, holding him in place and turning him back to you. One step is all it takes to close the distance between the two of you, and you return your lips to his, fingers at his jaw beckoning his chin down, and it’s a mess of chapped skin that has his brain near short-circuiting before he hears you speaking.

“Home. We should go back home.”

You’re like a damn siren - your voice is a liquor and it’s in Daryl’s genes to get addicted - and, oh, one of the houses you’d brought him between is the one you share with him. He’s not sure if it was intentional on your part, but he can’t dwell on it for even a second more because all he can think of is the fact that, in about 10 feet, there’s door he can lock and be alone with you.

Swallowing, he nods and lets you drag him along, jeans that have already been feeling a little too tight growing almost suffocating when you tilt your head back towards him and bite your lip. There’s a mischievous glint in your smile that he recognizes in an instant, and the moment the two of you clear the length of the porch, his body is pressed up against yours, a precarious position shielded by a convenient architectural protrusion.

Under your anticipation-laced hands, the door creaks open, and when the two of you cross the threshold of privacy, he has you pressed up against it, your back lining the white wood and the doorknob just to the side of your hip. Even trapped in his lust-flustered mind, he works not to hurt you. No, if he did - accidentally, some force in the outer world raising their hand against you - he’d drop to his knees right then and there and kiss you better.

“You look fuckin’ good, sunshine. Should be illegal for anyone t’look this good.”

Daryl speaks between familiar, driven kisses, flicking the lock shut when his fingers pass it by on their adventure up your hips, but when they dip underneath the hem of your shirt and start pulling it up, up, and up, you let go of his belt, the clinking of his undone buckle warning him of your free hands. Kicking off your shoes, you grab his forearms then, making him bite at the inside of his bottom lip at your strength, and he pulls his face away - barely an inch from yours, so close but too far - and waits for your words. 

“Are you not gonna tell me what happened back there, Daryl?”

You take a step to the side then, pulling him towards you with another hand at his belt loop, and in a swift motion, his back hits the door, a groan of surprise leaving his lips. It’s a vulnerable feeling, he admits - when the two of you were between the houses, there wasn’t a loom of anticipation hanging over him even though he had wished that there was - but it also feels good.

To be so close to you - to have you demand something from him  - it feels good. Almost undeniably so.

“I- I was zonin’ out. Was too busy starin’ at ya.”

You’re pressed up against him - his breathing quickening, heavier with the passing moments, and you can feel the way his chest expands - and he swallows when he looks into your eyes, a heat in yours that he’s damn sure he mirrors in his. He can feel the insistent heat pooling in the base of his stomach growing and growing, and it threatens to overtake him.

It threatens to burn him to a crisp, but if that meant staying here forever - if that meant staying here forever with you - he’d let it.

“What were you staring at?”

He wonders, for a brief second, if you know, because after you speak, the familiar pink of your tongue peeks out between your lips and wets them, as if purposely drawing his eyes down and threatening him to lie. And logically, he knows you can’t know - you’re not that good of an actress - but he’s not capable of a lot of logical thinking right now.

“Couldn’t- couldn’t take my eyes off’a ya.” 

Pressing your hand against his boxers, you smile to yourself when he melts into the door, his grip shooting to your waist to steady himself, his knees threatening to buckle from the run of your soft palm against him, and there’s something exhilarating about the power you have over him. He’s never like this - the Daryl everyone sees is always so sure of himself, always so in control of himself - but that version of him retreats with every single one of your touches and every single kiss you leave on his cheeks and down his neck.

Actually, no, it’s not that he’s never like this, it’s just that he’s only ever like this around you, and, fuck if it doesn’t make you want to get down on your knees for him right here and now.

“‘Specially not when you were- fuck- lickin’ that fuckin’ popsicle and-“

His words are garbled between groans though he tries his best to string together a coherent sentence, and you admire the way his eyebrows furrow, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows down his spit. It’s almost mean - almost fucking torture, the way you spread the wet patch growing in his underwear and let out a perfect little sound at the way he lifts his hips up and grind into your palm - but you can’t bring yourself to stop.

He cuts himself off when he realizes you’ve asked a question and he’s done everything but answer it, and he’s quick to push off the door, spotting the pulled curtains from this morning and the empty couch. The perfectly empty couch.

“I was starin’ at your mouth, sunshine.” 

Fingers digging into your thighs, he scrunches his face inwards, pressing his chest towards you so you grab at his biceps for support, and, with a breath, he lifts you, the buckle of his belt grazing just under your ass and hanging loose in the loops like a reminder of what’s to come. You rise with a subdued squeal and wrap your arms around his nape almost instinctively. It doesn’t matter how many times he does this - doesn’t matter how safe you feel in his arms, or that you know he’ll never drop you, or that, more importantly, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he dropped you - you close your eyes and dig your face into the crook of his neck.

“Was thinkin’ about everythin’ ya do with it. More’n just kissin’.”

The couch squeaks under Daryl’s enthusiasm, making you bounce on him, and for a second, you think you’ve hurt him, pulling your hips up off of him when he groans into your ear. But you quickly learn that it’s not a groan of pain, it’s a groan of relief, the feeling of you against him making him grab onto your hips tighter. He needs you this close to him and, if Daryl’s learned anything from being with you, it’s that he’s not above begging.  

“Wait- wait, fuck, come back. Please. Feel like I might go crazy without ya.”

And when his voice nears that little precipice of a needy whine, who are you to deny him?

“I don’t wanna be anywhere but here, you know that.”

So you sit back down, grinding your hips against his and basking in the thickness that rubs against you, and you lean down to press pecks to his cheek, his head thrown back and resting on the back of your dull gray couch. He’s a sight to behold like this, cheeks blooming pink and his lips swelling red from use, and a skin-tingling idea pops into your head when he undoes the tie of your shorts, fingers already crawling up to the waistband to coax it off.

Mouth, huh?

You have no problem with that.

Distracting him with one last careful, wet kiss, you lift yourself just enough that your both your legs come between his, and slowly, you move your body down, hands grabbing his belt to free him. He’s eager with your movements, lifting his hips to help you get that stupid piece of leather off of him, and when you slide your body down to the floor, he nearly bites through his jaw at the image.

All his lust-fuzzed brain can comprehend is how pretty you look, between his knees with one of his hands against your hair and the other on your chin, your hands on his thighs holding him open for you. All he can think about is how fucking pretty you look, and if he lets his mind wander, he wonders if you’d look just as pretty with his fingers in your mouth.

So he slides his thumb from your chin up against your lower lip - just for a second, to test out the waters, to see if you pull away or look at him with apprehension - but when you don’t, choosing instead to relax and let him touch, there’s only one logical conclusion.

You’d look prettier.

A lot prettier.

And while he’s sat admiring you, breathing stuttered by the tongue that peeks out to slide across his thumb, a rush of adrenaline moves him, so blinding in its fury that he’s a slave to obey it. Two rough fingertips - worn from hard work, the ones that hold you and engulf you in a safety you know only with him - press against your mouth, and like rushing water, they break forward, resting heavy against your tongue with an insistence that makes you press your thighs together.

You close your lips around him at the sensation, looking up at him to tell him ’I want this’ with just a look, and your neck tilts so fucking alluringly that Daryl fails to fight the urge to trace down the column of it with his eyes. Loose hair overhangs onto your forehead, and almost immediately - almost tenderly, too tenderly for what the two of you are doing behind closed curtains - he swipes it away, half in the fact he knows your hair will end up tickling you, and half in the fact that he can’t handle any obscuration from seeing you.

Not when your eyebrows are in that slanted expression only he gets to see, and not when your lips are wrapped around him so tightly it’s like you want him to stay.

Especially not when he presses his fingers further down - presses his fingers firmer against your tongue - and he can see the heaviness of your breaths, a pacing to keep your throat from folding upwards and out. You can feel the urge start to creep up each time you inhale from your nose and exhale the same, but you swallow it down, a drive to take him making you stare into him, a debilitating intensity that makes his cock throb and his brain muddle into mush. 

Sliding your hands down to his knees, you shuffle forwards more, cheeks pulling in around him as you press your face closer and closer to his crotch, and Daryl feels like he might overheat from the hedonistic swirl in his stomach. Your eyes are watering, the corners beginning to flush the tiniest bit of red, and it’s driving him crazy, a sick pleasure making him press down, down and down until he feels your tongue force him to the roof of your mouth and he watches your throat bob.

There’s no choked sound, but the saccharine haze breaks all the same, an immediate overtake of instinct that makes him jerk away, fingers leaving your mouth with an audible pop as his other hand wipes at your cheekbone in immediate apology. Your head follows him, leaning forward to chase, but when he holds you firm and keeps you from his saliva-coated fingers with his stupid overbearing and reasonable concern, you think you could cry at the loss of him. 

“Fuck- sorry- sorry, sunshine. Are y’alright?”

When he speaks he sounds so sincere, his black pupils blown wide and greedily replacing the cerulean you know only as him. But still, they soften at the thought he hurt you - you think maybe he could cry with the look of panic on his face - and your heart wells up in an affection that’s all too familiar when it comes to him.

You want to hug him, to kiss him, to give yourself to him.

You want Daryl to give himself to you. 

“I’m- I’m fine but,”

Your voice is raw, sandpaper tearing apart your sentence at the first word, and he does nearly everything in his power to keep from fucking moaning at how you sound. His cheeks are burning hot from your perfection, and even though he knows he should be listening to you, he can’t stop remembering. He knows what happens before you sound like this - has each placement of his lips and his hands seared into his brain so he can open you up and take you apart piece by piece - and each time he tries to stop thinking, the phantom feeling of your skin on his tongue draws him back.

“I want you, Daryl. I want-“

There aren’t enough brain cells rattling around in your head to properly articulate your intentions, but a shock of lust gives you the confidence you need to reach forward and grasp him through his boxers, your mouth watering at the weight of him like you were some starving animal, and his eyes nearly roll back at the touch. It’s not firm enough for him to feel it - definitely not firm enough to make him buck up into your hand - but he does, and when you grab his jeans, the waistband of his boxers tangled up in your desperate grip, he’s helpless to letting you.

“Please.”

You’re going to be the death of him, but, quite honestly, he doesn’t really care.

“Are- shit- are ya sure, sunshine? Ya don’t gotta-“

But despite his words - despite his want to wait for you to respond and to hold back until you’re sure - he grabs your wrists with one of his own large hands and presses you down harder, choking off a groan of your name when your tongue swipes at your lips and you swallow.

You’re looking at him like you want nothing more than to steal him away from his senses, and Jesus Christ, he’d let you pull him under if that’s what you’d wanted.

“Shut up, Daryl. I- I want to. I want you. Please.”

And when you sound so good like that, who the fuck is he to deny you?

So he lifts his hips, jeans and boxers dropped down around his ankles with one clean pull, and you’re on him in a second, shuffling forwards on your knees and anticipating the bruises that will creep onto your skin during the night. It’s hot now - too hot for you to wear jeans like Daryl somehow does - and you wonder briefly if people would know how you got them.

Would your heart eyes give the two of you away? The lingering heat that never seems to cease when you’re around him?

Would you even care?

As if he can read your mind, he reaches over to a carefully folded blanket - a deep, ugly orange he’d wrapped you in that one time you had a cold, concern for your wellbeing and memories of the prison making him so fiercely protective and worried - and offers it to you. He’s seen your bruises before, and though you tell him they don’t hurt like he thinks they do, he doesn’t want them to even have the possibility of sprouting onto your skin. They have no right to. 

But you shake your head, holding him heavy and upright in your hand - perhaps flourishing at the thought of wearing this moment in time on your body for the next few days - and he barely has time to put the fleece down before you press tongue against the underside of him, already making his stomach flex at the kitten-soft flick of your tongue. The hand in your hair drops to your chin then, and the one still slightly coated in your saliva drops to his cock, smearing haphazardly before taking it in his grasp and sliding him against your lips.

Like you did for his fingers - like you did so prettily and so perfectly for his fingers - your mouth drops open, and your eyes round in a look that all but pleads for him to ruin you. It’s intoxicating, the knowledge you want him to take and take and take from you the same way he lets you take from him, and he sucks in a sharp breath when you whine, so desperate for him that you shuffle even closer.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous like this, y’know that?”

Nodding, you swallow when he lets go of himself, a swirl of excitement and desire driving your hands forward to replace him, and the groan he lets out when the wet glide of your tongue travels the length of him is more than enough of a distraction from dwelling on the fact you shot towards him like a rocket. He laughs lightly - barely chuckles, a breathless noise you wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t watching his face so intensely - and you think you must be a picture of desperation between his knees, pressing your thighs together from the taste and the sight of him. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

You need this. You need Daryl to feel good.

You need to be the reason why.

“‘Course ya do. My- fuck- my gorgeous girl, ain’t ya?”

There’s the slightest ghost of a smile on his face when he questions you. but his face screws inwards when you moan in agreement, the vibrations of your noise travelling through his body and making his thighs twitch nearly close around you, the one last brain cell powered by what little blood is still in his top head reacting in time to keep himself from the possibly hurting you.

God, he hasn’t felt himself this desperate since, well, maybe the last time the two of you slept together? It dawns on him when you pull off and kiss just the tip of him that you set him alight like nothing else he’s experienced in his life. You’re a wildfire as you blaze through him, consuming him in the devastating mix of your love and your desire, and he wants nothing more than to burn.

“Shit, sunshine, you’re too- too fuckin’ good at this.”

Closing your lips around him, you sink down, emboldened by his praise and the choked moan of your name at the way your tongue runs against the side of him, and he rewards you with a whimper, his fingers sliding to the back to your head so he can ball your hair into a makeshift ponytail as his other swipes the bangs from your face.

Daryl needs to see you. 

His thighs are shaking, that familiar coil starting to tighten in the base of his stomach, and though he’s trying and failing to filter his words - a string of ‘you’re takin’ me so well’ and ‘fuck, look at ya, sunshine’ and just simply your name whispered so sweetly between the earth-tethering swears escaping him with little thought - he needs to see you. Despite the fact he knows it’ll catapult him to his finish, the sight of you coupled with the fact these sensations are purposeful for him to feel, he needs to see you.

And his blue eyes bruise as they spread across you, piercing as he watches every little movement of your body, attempting to memorize every inch of you - every inch of him you’re taking, every caress of yours erupting across his skin - and you want to ask him if you make him feel good, but, of course, how can you? 

“H- hey, don’t take too much if y’ain’t ready.”

It’s so fucking sloppy, a mess of spit that drips down the length of him and down to where your hand strokes him, and if he lets himself accept thoughts from a more primal part of his mind, he wonders if, just if, he slid his hand down above your neck, he could feel himself underneath, bulging through your skin. It feels dirty - feels wrong to even contemplate because, Hell, it would probably hurt on your part - but to know you’d do it for him makes him ascend to another plane of goddamn existence.

Feeling his grip tug tension into your scalp, you press your face down further, your throat rising and falling once then twice as you fight your body’s urge to push him out. Soreness is crawling across your jaw and threatening to hold you still, but you can’t. You won’t let yourself because every time he swipes your hair from your forehead with a careful thumb, you know he’s watching and you know you want to please. With each twist of your wrists and pull back of your face to kiss the head of him, you tell him you’re his. Body and soul. Mind and heart.

His hips lift then, a strangled groan making you moan around him when he tugs your makeshift ponytail a little too perfectly hard, and you know he knows it.

He’s yours too, melted into a puddle in the palm of your hand with every leak of him you swallow down, and when he bucks up again, hitting the back of your throat, he tries not to get too lost in the image of your stretched lips and the sweat lining down your neck. But you’re too fucking pretty and perfect like this that he can’t stop himself.

“Fuck- fuck, shit, sunshine-“

And for the first time since you’d gotten down on your knees for him, Daryl breaks eye-contact, and you know he’s about to break, too, the sharp cut of his jaw exposed to you when he throws his head back against the back of the couch. He’s a sight - as much as he calls you beautiful, he’s beautiful as well - half-God and carved by Bernini himself, immortalized into a baroque sculpture befitting of your enamour for him, and you can’t stop yourself from your want for him to fall apart for you.

“I love you, Daryl. Love- love you.”

You draw from him just to say that, dangling the reminder that you could stop whenever you want and deprive him of you over his head, a wet pop sounding over his heavy breathing, and it’s a mockery, what you’re doing to him. A delicate stamp of a kiss against his strong thighs making him burn, and before he knows it you’re back to your kitten licks, too goddamn soft and sweet and doting at his tip for him not to fucking whimper.

Taking him into your mouth again, the haze in your eyes makes him shudder when he looks at you, and he draws his hips back, rutting just another inch past your lips with the grip of his fingers keeping you still. There’s a substantial effort on his part to keep himself together as both your practiced hands tighten, slick down your palm with a mixture of him and your own spit, but then you whine, taking more of him than he can remember you ever having taken before, and it’s too much for him.

The sight, the smell, the feeling. It’s all too goddamn much. 

“Christ- w- where?”

You pull from him then, a string of saliva connecting him to you, and you stick your tongue out, looking at him expectantly and impossibly prettily. And when he realizes what you want from him - that you would even let him - it’s immediate.

“Shit- sorry- sorry, sunshine.”

Ropes of him hit you then, bursting down from the roof of your mouth, some of him getting onto one of your cheeks and some onto your forehead, and there’s so much, each throb of him heavy as you hold him which is befitting since it really, truly feels like it’s only you tethering him down to Earth. His abdomen tightens, arms and thighs flexing as he folds inwards on himself because he’s not closing his grip around you. He can’t. He doesn’t trust himself.

If he hurt you, what would he do with himself?

So he whispers ‘I love you’s’ almost apologetically, his voice dragged down to the depths of a pleasure you barely know you pull him to and a litany of curse words and your name making you want nothing more than to slide your own hand down between your thighs because holy fuck he sounds so good. His eyebrows are scrunched inwards in a glare so intimidating you might have cowered from him if he didn’t remind you that his whole being belonged to you every single day, but he does and it’s impossible now for you to regard him with anything but affection. The security of his presence and the warmth of his being spells only safety, and even when the two of you get into the sparse fight, he’s all you’ve ever wanted.

Love blooms from you with a blinding intensity, even as you stroke him, carrying him to the edge until he just can’t handle it, love blooms in your lust, all consuming as you swallow and swallow, a saltiness down your throat that marks you as his. Nobody would ever see you in this position - Daryl would make sure of it, his anger explosive when you’re a possible casualty - but to be in such a vulnerable state for him, it makes your head hazy and muddled. 

It makes him feel that way, too. Twofold.

Maybe even ten.

Breathing heavy, he stops moving to just stare, letting go of you to admire your eyes, your cheeks, your stupidly prepossing mouth and neck, down to the divots of your collarbones, and he memorizes the lingering depravity in your expression with his hooded eyes. Only when he goes to caress your skin does he realize the mess he’s made on you - lust-fuzzed brain throwing almost all courtesy and self-control out of the window - and he’s quick to try and fix it.

“Sorry, sunshine. Lemme-”

The apologetic smile on his face is so adorable, genuine and boyish as he swipes what’s hit your forehead and cheek, and his touch is tender, returning from the take back to the care that your brain recognizes as him. He reaches down to the floor with his other for the red rag in his jean’s pocket to clean you then, but your greed drives you forward. It takes a split second - just a split second - for you to grab his hand in yours and wrap your lips around his thumb like you did his cock, and you push it into your mouth, tongue sliding against it to gather him and reminding him of what happened moments ago as if he could ever forget.

“Holy shit.”

It’s so fucking erotic that Daryl’s stuck in his seat, swallowing down the rush of saliva and willing himself to harden again. But he’s not that young anymore, and while he’s cursing himself, he watches you move from your kneel, figuring that his fingers and mouth will work just fine to make you burst.

And if they don’t? Well, he’s open to try and try and try until you do.

Rising to your full height, you smile at him when your gaze meets his, a pang of arousal washing through you when he raises an eyebrow and extends his arm towards your shorts, and you nod, bending down just enough to rest your elbows on his shoulders and kiss his jaw. The waistband loosens off your hips with his dexterous movements, and before you can even brace for him, his muscular arms scoop underneath you, hooking underneath your thighs the moment you step out of the polyester.

A muted yelp escapes from your throat, and you press his head against you, holding onto him for some stability before he seats you over his lap, and he digs his face into your chest, making your exclamation melt into a chuckle at the immature joy he takes in being pressed up against your shirt. He only pulls away when you tug lightly at his hair, your other hand pushing at his chest with an insincere petulance, and there’s an infuriatingly charming pout on his lips that’s so cute that you want to kiss it away.

So you do, your fingers sliding underneath his chin and tilting him up, slotting your mouth over his so adoringly the you can feel his smile spread at the same quick speed yours does, and when you pull away, the need for oxygen overtaking your desire to run your tongue along his, there are constellations and pieces of stardust shining in his eyes.

It makes you feel like you’re everything to him.

“They’re gonna wonder where we are, Daryl.”

Tilting his cheek into your touch, he covers your hand with one of his - your knuckles against his palm - and links his fingers underneath yours, an intimacy so inescapable it makes him think, yeah, you are everything to him.

But he’s known that for a while now, hasn’t he?

“Let ‘em.”

The gravel of his voice glides much too smoothly over his words than it has the right to, and when he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your wrist and taking a deep breath of your scent, it’s like he’s helpless to his own body, put under a spell by you.

“Ya took me so well, y’know that? Gonna let me make ya feel good, too?”

He caresses the skin underneath the hem of your shirt, lips feverish and wet against your neck, and all you can do is nod, lifting your arms to help him rid you of the stupid shirt that matches his. He pulls it off with little trouble, your bra following soon and flung haphazardly towards the stairs, and he devours the sight of you, hands grabbing your ass and digging underneath his next victim - the pretty blue panties he’d watches you put on just this morning.  

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t done wit’ ya. Not yet.”

And Daryl doesn’t think he ever will be. No, he’d be just about the biggest damn idiot in the world if he ever was.

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey @marylimlp @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves​ @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired @phoenixblack89 @in-ky @riverscyberwife @jocyc1997 @darlingdixon @candice666 @angryunicornlady @caelys @akilababs @rhyrhy462 @queendragon0614 @howdoiwork @ancientbeing10 @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog​ @sgtapepper @shizkayo @poisonmenegan @burritoplant @huntressknight @mariannambl @dftblood @beatitlikeabongodrum @januarymaebell @potplantbedspread @green-eyedladywrites @gemathewitch @wolfmoretti @atlanticstarr @deathishereditary @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @srhxpci @heretosimponly @decendingfromgrace @large-juice @cosmic-lavender @sunshines-petal @boluvsurmum @theteaset

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

[satinsumu]

first. || suna r.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI, f!reader, slight slight angst but mostly fluff, language, unprotected sex, fingering, virginity loss, dirty talk, praise, creampie, soft suna is romantic, shy baby’s first time ❤️ 

summary: it’s hard not to get self-conscious being intimate with suna for the first time, especially when he’s far more experienced than you are—but your boyfriend is sure to remind you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

a/n: what did i say about loving the first time trope lol. also didn’t proofread bc that’s how we do it here (edit: this was so much longer than i’d intended and i ended up getting so much more attached than i’d intended lmfao i want a suna in my life Right Now)

a tingle travels throughout your body as your bare back touches the soft sheets of suna’s bed, your boyfriend’s hands gently moving from your shoulders down to your knees.

he lifts one of your legs up, slender fingers rubbing small circles against your skin, before bending down to press a small kiss to your inner thigh. his greyish, golden eyes—half-lidded and slowly growing darker with desire—flick up to meet yours with such tender intensity that it takes your breath away.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly at your silence, carefully setting your leg back down against the mattress as he leans over you, one hand planted beside your head. 

“yeah,” you reassure him. the reply comes out a bit weaker than you’d intended.

“we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” suna murmurs, lowering himself to give you a small kiss, right at edge of your mouth. his lips are warm. gentle.

“i do, i’m just—” you quickly answer, but look away with slight embarrassment. “just a little nervous, that’s all... don’t know if i’ll be good.”

the second half of your sentence is just barely above a whisper, and suna’s expression softens.

“don’t worry about that,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before slowly moving further down your neck and chest. “just want you to be comfortable.”

you feel him stop just above your left breast, the ghost of his breath lingering on your flesh. a sudden, warm sensation washes over you as suna takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks, his hot, wet tongue swirling circles around the bud. you gasp at the feeling and squeeze your eyes shut while his other hand slides down your stomach, hovering just above the thin, silky fabric of your underwear.

suna releases your nipple from his mouth as he pushes himself back up, licking his lips while studying your expression.

“you’re so warm down here,” he says with a small smile. his finger draws a long, slow stripe along your folds, the pressure through your panties just enough to send another tingle traveling all over your body. “can i take these off?”

you nod and grant him permission, shyness burning in your cheeks at how exposed and vulnerable you feel, but also at how careful suna is being. he smooths his palm against your hip bone and drags the garment of clothing down your legs before it comes back up, teasingly squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh. 

“good girl,” suna hums, straightening himself to pull his own shirt over his head. the words make your heart pound violently in your chest.

without another word, he takes your other breast in his large hand, groping and kneading the flesh while his opposite hand begins to make work of your sex. he presses two fingers against your folds and slowly rubs circles against the skin as you feel your clit grow more and more sensitive to the pseudo-contact. 

you tilt your head back, dipping further into the sheets, while a shaky sigh escapes your lips. a small smile rests on suna’s face at the sight—you seem to be feeling good, and he intends on keeping it that way. 

his movements are growing faster now. you can feel your arousal growing wetter, and you know suna can feel it too, with the way his fingertips are coated with your slick. he takes this as a safe indication to finally slip a digit into you—god knows how fucking badly he wishes it were his cock instead—and the little squeak that rolls off your tongue is like music to his ears.

“so tight, baby,” he murmurs, elated at the sight of you clenching around him while trying to keep his composure. how did he get so lucky? “but you’re taking my fingers so well.”

there’s so much going on.

you can feel your boyfriend watching you, but you’re too distracted to think about how your face must look right now. especially when he’s still squeezing your tits, focusing on your pleasure as he continues pumping his finger in and out of your tiny hole. then he adds another, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, surprised that suna’s hands are moving with so much ease and also how good it feels. even more so when his thumb continues to rub at your clit in tandem with his other fingers.

soft, lewd squelching noises can be heard in the quiet of his room as both you and suna realize that this won’t be enough. you need more. your pussy is practically begging for it, even if your mouth isn’t.

“think you’re ready, sweetheart,” suna breathes, willing himself to pull his fingers out of your cunt.

you nod coyly in response, slightly irritated at yourself for feeling uneasy in front of your boyfriend; he’s being so good to you, so patient, but you’ve just never done anything so lewd befo—

your brain short-circuits as you watch suna look you dead in the eye before putting two glistening fingers, still covered in your juices, into his mouth. he slowly pulls out, soft pink lips wrapped around them, tongue lapping shamelessly at whatever he missed on his thumb.

he gives you an alluring smirk, and your hands instinctively fly up to cover your flustered face. your cheeks are burning with both desire and embarrassment, but suna grips your wrist and slowly pulls it away.

“look at me, baby,” he says, his body hovering closely above yours. “nothing to be embarrassed about.”

god, you look so fucking cute, he really doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“can i...?” suna trails off, the hardness in his pants growing more and more difficult to ignore by the second as it presses against your leg.

“p-please, rin,” you whisper. the way your innocent, nervous eyes are asking him to fuck you is honestly enough to make him jizz in his pants. 

without another word, suna pushes himself back up, unzipping his pants so that his erect member can finally spring free. he barely has to give it a few impatient strokes—a trait you rarely see in your boyfriend—before it’s fully hard. the sheer size of his cock causes you to gulp, the tiny beads of precum already leaking out from its tip.

suna takes it in his hand, smearing his own arousal over the head before bending over to rub its heaviness over your folds. your clit is already puffy and sensitive from his fingers earlier, and it feels like it’s twitching in pleasure from the contact. 

“o-oh,” you gasp, and suna smiles at the sound, his eyes glossing over your body like he simply can’t get enough. he slowly moves his cock downwards, using all his self-restraint to ignore the throbbing, aching desire in it to just fuck your brains out already.

lining it up with your entrance, he murmurs, “i’m gonna put it in.”

“okay,” you exhale, chest heaving in anticipation.

your hands travel up beside your head to grip the pillow as a means to brace yourself, and you finally feel suna slide into you with surprising ease. every inch of his cock drags along your walls in slow motion, and you’ve never been so physically close to him before. there’s a soft ache—barely noticeable—but it’s not painful... and yet, it’s not pleasurable either.

an unprecedented panic creeps its way into your head at the realization.

what if this doesn’t end up feeling good? what if he doesn’t end up feeling good? oh god, what if he doesn’t even finish? surely, you’d be the only girl he’ll have slept with that could fuck up this bad—who knows how many girls have come before you? (literally.) what if—

“what’s wrong?” suna’s gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his tone tinged with a slight worry. 

“n-nothing,” you shake your head quickly. ugh, you feel like such... a loser. an idiot, really.

“talk to me, sweetheart,” suna murmurs, towering over you as he’s still balls deep inside your cunt. “does it hurt?”

he wants to pull out in case that’s the problem, but also doesn’t want to make any sudden moves, for fear of hurting you.

“no, i’m okay,” you insist in an attempt to reassure him. “i just, i don’t know, i’m being stupid.”

suna’s expression softens, but before he can say anything, you’re already babbling on again, and you can’t even stop.

“what if you don’t end up feeling good?” you quiver, the question more so directed at yourself than at your boyfriend. “what if you don’t even finish because of how much i suck? i-i don’t want to be the only person you’ve been with who’s bad at sex—”

your heart is racing now and the words are tumbling out of your mouth helplessly. you feel so bad for dumping this on him, and your frustration towards yourself brings small tears to the corners of your eyes—

“baby, listen to me,” suna says quietly but firmly, one hand cupping your cheek and turning your face towards him so that you’re no longer avoiding eye contact. his thumb gently brushes away the dampness at the edge of your lower lashline before he continues,

“first of all, there’s no such thing as being bad at sex—and you’re doing great,” he murmurs, planting a quick kiss to your lips. “you’re the only person i want to do this with, and as long as it’s with you, i’m happy.”

you sniffle a little bit, but your heart soars at his words, the tension in your chest slowly easing.

“second of all, don’t worry about me,” he says gently, his eyes filled with a tender adoration as he gazes at you. “it’s really sweet that you’re thinking of me, but i want you to feel good.”

a warmth blooms in your cheeks. 

“and besides, you’re fucking beautiful,” suna continues, leaning down again to press his lips against your bare shoulder. “i could cum just from the sight of you, but i’m trying to hold back because i want you to finish first.”

the bluntness of his words causes you to look away shyly, and suna smiles down at you. 

“so,” he begins again, before giving you a small suck on your jaw. “can you let me make you feel good?”

you nod slowly, and bring your arms up to wrap them around his neck.

“sorry,” you manage a small giggle at the feeling of his dick still inside you—you really have terrible timing, that much you’ll admit.

“it’s okay,” suna murmurs, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “i love you, you know that.”

he’s said those words before, but the way he’s uttering them into your ear right now, in the quiet intimacy that only you two share, makes your heart race and your head spin.

“just let me know if you want me to stop,” he says, before finally, gradually pulling himself out.

suna slides his cock back into you with ease, your juices still coating his member. he repeats the motion a few more times, each time just a little bit more fluidly and rapidly than the last, until you’ve fully adjusted to his size. the sensation is still foreign, but no longer uncomfortable.

he finally reaches a pace where he thrusts himself into you for the first time with a low grunt, the rough penetration catching you off guard. a small “mmf!” escapes your mouth as you bite your lip, embarrassed at hearing the sound of your own voice.

“don’t hold those precious noises back, sweetheart,” suna breathes seductively into your skin, his low voice causing you to clench harder around him. “wanna hear how good i make you feel. the louder the better.”

you nod at his encouragement as small beads of sweat form along your temple.

he gives you another sharp thrust, followed by another, and then another, until he’s steadily rocking into you as the bed creaks with every movement. this time, you can’t help the wanton moans of his name that fill the air, each one prompting him to continue.

“a-ah!” you cry at a particularly harsh snap of his hips, your cunt sucking him back in every time he pulls out of you. “r-rin! rin! rin!”

suna’s never been one to have a big head or a large ego, but the way you’re chanting his name like a mantra makes pride swell in his chest. you look so angelic, eyes fluttered shut with every time he fucks into you, nipples moving up and down with your breasts, hair splayed out against his bedsheets, sopping wet pussy clamping around his cock as your very first time. how could he not be in love with you?

“f-feeling good, baby?” he pants, trying to hold it together. 

“yes,” you gasp as a small dribble of drool leaks out of the corner of your mouth. but you don’t care. you want him. more of him, more, more, more. “want you so bad.”

suna thinks he’s going to lose his damn mind.

“you like that?” his voice borders on a growl, and his strong arms snake beneath you to pull you into a hug before one of them props his body up against the mattress so he can angle himself into you with even more intensity. lord help him, he wants to cum so fucking bad with how hot you look, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you into tomorrow.

“n-ngh!” you groan, tossing your head back at the way suna is driving himself in and out of you as his eyes flit down to your heaving chest. “i-i think ‘m c-close...”

that was all suna needed to hear as he laid you back down, flat against the bed as one hand travels urgently down to your heat. he takes two fingers and begins rubbing your folds again, one dipping past them to play with your clit, the stimulation causing you to see stars. suna presses an open mouthed kiss against your lips at the sight of them parting, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue across yours.

he picks up the speed of his thrusts again, his other hand now preoccupied with kneading your breasts and pinching your nipple as you cry out for him, and only him.

“r-rin!” your voice rings in his head, your gasps broken up into needy pants. 

“doin’ so good, angel,” he mutters against your lips, still mercilessly slamming his cock into you. “taking my cock so—ngh!—well, wanna keep this pussy all to myself.”

you don’t even have time to process the lewdness of his words before your back is arching, suna’s fingers rubbing your clit at an unbelievable pace as he simultaneously slides himself in and out of you, the slapping sounds amplified by your juices.

“cum for me sweetheart, you can do it,” suna urges, his eyes fixated on your face. “show me just how good i make you feel—”

a sudden wave of bliss floods over you as you feel the tension in your body release, your clit throbbing with pleasure at the sensation. suna’s eyes widen at the way your jaw grows slack, trying not to cum at the mere sight of your fucked out expression while he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“h-hah,” you gasp, still chasing your climax while suna continues thrusting into your cunt, his cock twitching with arousal. after a few seconds, he picks up his own pace, chasing his own high with your body.

“god, you feel so good around me,” he mutters, clenching his teeth at the way your walls continue to suck him in. 

“want you to cum inside, r-rin,” you whine into his ear, the syllables broken up by how hard he’s fucking you as your whole being practically bounces around his cock, his balls clapping with wet slapping sounds against your ass. “f-fill m-me up?”

you don’t need to say anything else as suna finally snaps, pushing himself so deep into you with an almost primal urge as cum shoots out of his cock. you can feel the warmth all the way in your belly as you look up at your boyfriend, sweaty and out of breath, panting into your neck before finally pulling himself out of you.

he catches your lips with his as he gives you a long, passionate kiss, before breaking away and giving you a quick peck on both cheeks, then your nose, then your forehead.

“you did so good, baby,” he murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, that had found its way to stick to your face. an affectionate warmth brings a small smile to your lips as you nuzzle your cheek into suna’s palm, and he feels himself lose his breath at the sight of you.

“be good and stay here, okay?” he mumbles, reluctantly pulling himself off of you. he could stare at you forever. “i’ll go get a towel and clean you up. i love you.”

[hitnran]

OBSESSIVE EX (gender neutral! reader)

how they deal with you having an obsessive ex

includes: ran, rindou

CW: obsessive behavior, cursing, stalking (ran), phone harassment (rindou), the haitani brothers lowkey kinda scary here (not to the reader) 💀 but i’m just trying to make it fit within their character

— RAN HAITANI

Getting into a relationship with someone like Ran, half of the charismatic brother duo that ruled Roppongi, almost means guaranteed safety wherever you go. His title itself is one that is feared when murmured. Whenever you two leave, he always has an eye and a hand on you. Ran knows well that even if he is feared, he can also be challenged and the last thing he wants is for you to get involved — you would make an easy target for his enemies.

You two were out together on a stroll around the city. Although there was nothing neither of you needed, Ran’s favorite thing is showing you off. Sometimes you start to feel similar to his younger brother, thinking that you’re just a shadow and only known as ‘Ran’s partner.’ But Ran’s intentions were opposite. He wanted everyone to know that it was him that belonged to you and it is him that people would have to deal with if you were ever tested.

As you two are walking, Ran noticed your eyes consistently checking itself to the side. He took note of that and eventually brushed it off since you stopped. But then he noticed that you were being especially keen and scanning the whole area.

“Are you okay, love?” Ran slightly hunches down, getting your attention as your face turns his way. He lightly smiles at you. “Did you see something you liked?”

You swallowed down hard. You could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face, but after trying to scan the area numerous times for the past few minutes, you thought it was just you being paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ran and cause a scene.

“I’m okay,” You shook your head, returning a light smile. You grabbed on his arm, this time a little tighter. “Let’s turn into this corner.”

Ran knows when you’re lying. He knew something made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to force you to tell him. Instead, he’ll make it his own problem too and deal with it himself.

This area was his territory and everyone knew it. It was almost as if Roppongi, a city known for liveliness, calmed down ever so slightly if one or both of the brothers were out. Everyone’s gaze wound be kept low and their conversations would go mute as they walk by.

At that moment, Ran could feel a pair of eyes staring your way. He won’t make it obvious though.

“Love,” Ran called out to you. You looked up his direction and he placed a hand against your lower back. “Rindou’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t bring back food for him. How about you go into the restaurant and order first while I call him and ask what he wants?”

You felt at ease hearing that you two were finally going to be in somewhere indoors, but it made you nervous that he would be separated from you for just a little while.

“Don’t wanna bring something back he won’t like and have him complain,” Ran lightly laughed, trying to ease your clear discomfort. He placed a hand over your head. Taking out his phone to add to his act. “I’ll be quick.”

After some hesitation, you gave in. It was a public space after all, so it shouldn’t have been anything to worry too much about. He watched as you entered the place before turning around, sending chills to the person who had been following you two around this whole time.

“Would be a shame if I left them alone for too long, wouldn’t it?” Ran gave off a sinister grin, slowly walking towards the person. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take them away…especially someone like you.”

Ran knew who this person was. He was an obsessive ex of yours that just would not leave you alone and accept the separation despite it being years passed. He gulped hard, nervously stepping back, not thinking that he would get caught.

“You were so bold to even follow us in the first place, why so shy now?” Ran smirked, hiking up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “This is the first time you’ve heard of me or something? I should introduce myself to you well and hard then.”

Almost ten minutes had passed since you’ve been waiting for Ran. You sat patiently and waited. Your best guess as to what’s taking him so long revolves around Rindou. Maybe he was complaining about how he wanted food from a different place or being picky about menu opinions. Just as you were about to raise yourself from your seat to check up on Ran, you saw him enter.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Ran appeared, seating himself in front of you. The worse case scenario you had in mind was that he got into a fight, but in front of you, he looked just as how you last saw him. “You know how Rindou is.”

Your chest became relaxed and you gave a small smile, shaking your head, “What did he want from here?”

“I didn’t even listen to what he said,” Ran teased, opening up his menu and leaning back against the chair. You felt his legs sandwich your calves from beneath the table. “He can order it himself. All my money is going to you today.”

And that was how Ran liked it. Although Ran wanted everyone to know that he belonged to you, he knew how important it was for others to know that you belonged to him too. The image of the face of your ex is burned so clearly into his brain — face all bloodied up, mauled almost, as he failed to even whisper for forgiveness.

“I think there’s only one way I’m gonna let you outta here alive,” Ran kicked his body down with force, hearing something shift in his jaw. He couldn’t give half a damn about it. “Do you know what that is?”

Your ex was visibly beaten and weak now, barely able to even blink or properly form a sentence. Though, with his adam’s apple slightly moving from fear, Ran took it as a response.

Grabbing him by his hair upward, Ran bent down, looking straight at him, “You’re gonna leave them alone and never show your goddamn face again. If it wasn’t fucked already before, it sure is now. I promise you I’ll know if you’re even barely visible or a mile away, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Ran thought it was so disgusting how someone like you could ever have your time wasted on someone low like this ex of yours. Even if Ran saw him and his brother above everyone else, he always put you above him.

“Maybe even after this, I’ll send one of my men to go and beat the shit out of you every day so you could suffer for as long as you’ve tried to bother Y/N.”

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou can’t even remember what it took for you two to even reach this state of your guys relationship. He convinced himself that it was Ran, his older brother who wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to take you if Rindou didn’t make a move.

It genuinely surprises himself even whenever he looks your way, observing every detail and soaking in the idea that you are someone he can call his.

You two were watching a movie, or rather, supposed to. Rindou was too focused on side-eyeing you every now and then. You caught him a few times, but he would brush it off with comments like “this movie is boring” or “I’m just checking to see if you fell asleep.”

He would snap himself out of a trance after hearing your phone ring beside you. You eyed it once, looking at the caller ID and ignoring it. It wasn’t enough to cause Rindou to worry - it’s not his problem if you just didn’t wanna answer a call, it was your guys’ time anyway.

But then it rang once more again. Your ringtone dragged itself out halfway through before Rindou slightly raised his hand from your hip, pointing to the phone on the side of the couch.

“You not gonna answer that?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the TV, “It’s fine. It’s an unknown caller ID.”

Rindou shrugged, ignoring it once again, but after a few more calls and your phone receiving back to back text messages, it was starting to irk him. He was close to just grabbing your phone and answering the call himself, but you were quick to act before him, just shutting it off.

“It must be spam or something,” You sighed, sitting back down.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, good thing you shut that damn thing off. That shit was annoying,” Rindou sighed, curling his arms around you again. “Let’s change the movie too or something. This one is boring.”

One thing about dating Rindou is that he seems uninterested in absolutely everything he does. Although you avoid thinking like that when it comes to your relationship with him, you always remind yourself that Rindou is someone who deeply cares for you. He shows it very differently compared to others, but you know.

He can recall a memory from a few weeks ago where you kept getting calls in the middle of your guys’ date. It annoyed him, but not as much as it annoyed you. You’ve pressed the red decline button at least five times now, stressing over it and spilling out everything about your previous ex.

At the end of your rant, Rindou grabbed your phone, picking up the call and saying words as simple as “leave them alone.” It was so simple, but for the next few weeks, it was silent. You finally thought you were free of harassment thanks to your boyfriend, but recently, they’ve been coming back as unknown caller IDs and more frequent than before.

Halfway through the movie, Rindou felt your body become more loose and relaxed beneath him. Your breath became slower and more steady. You had fallen asleep. He thought it was ironic to have someone as angelic as you in the arms of someone like him - a gang member always involving himself in trouble, even just for fun.

He stared at your phone just a reach away and then back at you. The last thing Rindou wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or really, anything that isn’t where you aren’t happy.

When you woke up, the TV was shut off and you felt a blanket drape over your body. You realized you had fallen asleep from earlier, but you were expecting to find your boyfriend with you as well. That was when the door swung open and you were greeted with Rindou.

“Rindou?” You slowly let out, still adjusting from waking up. “I didn’t know you left.”

He raised a bag up midway in the air, it’s a bag from a bakery you often bought from, “You kept murmuring about it in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up all grumpy.”

“I don’t wake up grumpy!” You protested, watching as he took his seat next to you and unpacking all of your favorites.

“Yeah, okay,” Rindou joked. He listened to you puffing out before wrapping yourself around his arm.

“Thank you though,” You murmured out of embarrassment - maybe he was half right.

“It’s nothing,” He replied, softening his face into a grin. “Must’ve been hungry though if it got you talking in your sleep and drooling on my arm.”

You didn’t even know about half of the things he does for you, but he didn’t mind it, because if you were happy, then that was all that mattered.

It made Rindou feel guilty to turn on your phone and look through it. It wasn’t something that he ever felt the need to do - he trusted you and it felt wrong if you weren’t aware that he was using it. Though, at this time, he felt like it was for the better.

While you were silently sleeping, he browsed through your texts. It’s that same person - your ex back again to bother you. Rindou scoffed, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up, but he was angry. He clicked his tongue whilst composing a message.

Rindou knew you would never be so stupid as to meet up with someone like this, especially not after already experiencing it once. It was a good thing that it was just Rindou posing as you though. How delighted your ex felt to have finally received a response to you - ‘Let’s meet up here.’

Rindou thought it was so pathetic. This guy had no idea what he looked like, let alone that you even had a boyfriend. So when Rindou’s immediate reaction upon seeing him was to throw a punch, he was shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Your ex cried out, trying his best to dodge his attacks but failing in between his words and attempts.

“Me?!” Rindou snapped, pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

The man beneath him screamed in pain, “I-I’ll call the cops on you and have you arrested!”

“Yeah? You think they’ll give me less time if I tell them I was just trying to teach a creep a lesson?” Rindou pulled back on his arms a little harder, tendons and muscles stretching themselves out of place.

“T-The hell are you talking about?!” He stuttered out.

“Don’t bitch around. Might end yourself up in there if you keep this act of yours up - I’ve been once before,” Rindou smirked, pulling back more and more on his arms. “It was fine for me. My big bro and I even got some respect while in there, so what’s gonna happen when they hear about your name from me? You’re fresh meat to them.”

“W-Who even are you?!”

Rindou scoffed, “The same guy who warned you once to leave Y/N alone. I should’ve honestly went to find you myself personally and beat the shit out of you, but I hate wasting my time.”

Your boyfriend let the man go. If his arms weren’t all bent out of place and dislocated, he’d be crawling away by now. It was a sight that Rindou would laugh at. Upon seeing that his phone had fallen out of his pocket, the same phone used to consistently harass you, Rindou stomped down hard, breaking it into bits and pieces.

“Don’t waste my time again. Next time you do, call the cops, I promise you I won’t care if they catch me killing you,” Rindou turned his back around.

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

so, SO, Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for DAYS. Can i request a Sapnap x reader smut, BUT Incubus!Sapnap. My brain is mush. Perhaps reader doesn't believe in demons etc, so they're trying to prove to themselves that these things indeed don't exist by trying to summon a demon, what type of demon? they don't know. Unfortunately(fortunately) for them, the ritual works and Sapnap is summoned. Afab reader with any pronouns, and Dom or switch Sapnap.

i literally love this idea sm. thank you for trusting me with it. [thank you to a friend of mine who helped me w some of the plot elements.] I hope you enjoy and happy reading! xx

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (18+)

pairing: incubus!sapnap x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of an Ouija board, blood, oral (fm. receiving), smut, domination, choking

Your fishnets clung to your legs, yet provided little protection against the nipping breeze dragging icy fingers across your skin. You rubbed the arms of your jacket, attempting to generate more warmth as your breath fogged around you. Your friends giggled and kicked at each other, hanging around their shoulders and acting drunker than they actually were. It felt like icicles picked your heart each time you faintly felt like you were enjoying yourself, all because of Him.

His words echoed in your head each time a man approached you, finding yourself nearly too suspicious to believe they wouldn’t end up like He did: cold, distant, and arrogant.

The club had been too loud, in your opinion, but you’d be damned to let one of your friends know. They were focused on finding you a squeeze to preoccupy you while you got over Him. You didn’t need a distraction, you just needed to get rid of the thought of him.

One of your friends grabbed your arm, dragging you down a portion of concrete steps and into a lower-level shop. You briefly caught sight of the neon sign above the door, LOCAL PSYCHIC blinking in bright pink piping to welcome in tourists. You scoffed to yourself as you shrugged through the beaded curtain over the door.

The shop smelled of incense and a potpourri of unfamiliar herbs. A slender woman with long black hair looked up from a magazine, gold eyeliner sparkling in the dim lighting of the store. She watched the group of you carefully as your friends went straight for the Ouija boards in the corner. As you looked over her various shelves of exotic species of crystals, you could feel her eyes burning into your shoulder.

You sighed quietly, grabbing a green hued crystal and approaching her in lieu of your group. “So, this will get rid of my bad juju if I stick it in my bra, right?” You quipped jokingly, making her smuggly grin.

She straightened up, revealing a metal band t-shirt that you couldn’t pronounce the name of, let alone knew. “Gorgeous, you’ll need a fist full of moldavite to cleanse what you’ve got going on,” she jested, voice raspy and surveying. “Give me your hand,” she stated, more than asked. You reluctantly reached for her, her boney ringers cupped your hand, rings catching the candle light beside the cash register.

“Does it say I’ll disappear mysteriously after a boating accident?” You leered, making her bite her lip.

You could practically feel her breath on your skin. She studied your palm closely, wetting her lips. “I think I have something better than moldavite, though,” she quirked before digging her nail into the center, making you hiss. She drew a bit of blood from the wound, placing a business card against the spot. The center of the card oozed the crimson color seeping from the cut. “Call this number when you get home and all your bad juju will clear, my love. Him included,” she whispered. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“Of course not,” you answered, your eyes locked on hers as she smiled darkly at you, almost forebodingly. You flipped the card in your hand, a number plastered on one side and “REVERSE YOUR REGRETS,” printed boldly on the other. Your eyebrow perked at her. “What, is this a demon calling card?” You quizzed almost sarcastically.

Her dark, full lips twisted up. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Your mouth ran dry as she smirked, fingers brushing against your own as your hand slipped from hers. You found it hard to speak on the bus ride home, or even form sentences while you were crammed between two of your friends as they all sparked chatter about their upcoming finals. One of the main reasons they bought the Ouija board was to ask a ghost to write their history and philosophy theses.

Your apartment was dark and alluringly quiet compared to the night of bright lights and ridiculous EDM you had endured for most of the night. You let your jacket slip to the floor as you switched on a lamp, washing your hands as your mind relayed what the woman from the shop had said. As you dried your hands, your eyes traveled towards the living room, the dark fabric of one of His hoodies peeking out from between the couch and the wall. You bit your tongue, anger flashing into your veins. “Even Him…” you thought, remembering what she had told you.

You grabbed your phone, slinking over to where your jacket was and fishing the card from your pocket. The red smudge of blood almost perfectly split the phone number in half. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“No, what kind of respectable adult believes in demons,” you grumbled to yourself, dialing the number. You turned the card over again, eyeing the words as you waited for the call to connect. Instead of ringing normally, three long dial tones sounded over your receiver, sending a shiver down your spine. Dogs of your apartment complex began to bark, sending feral noises of discomfort into the air.

An automated voice began to speak, startling you slightly. “Thank you for your call. Your sacrifice is pure and has been accepted. Congratulations.”

Sacrifice? The line went dead, your power fizzling out as well. You froze, your feet feeling as if your shoes were filled with cement. In an instant, your array of candles sparked to life, brightening the room. Your heart thundered in your chest, unsure of what was happening. Sacrifice?

You held your breath, waiting for what was to come. It seemed as if your apartment had been removed from the city outside, instead an eerie silence settled in the room, making it almost suffocating to be alone.

“Hello, dove,” a dark voice called from behind you, making you jump a foot in the air, chest wheezing from the jump scare. A man smirked at you, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at you. He dominated one of your chairs, his other hand drumming his fingers against the leather. His suit was well tailored, but he wore it rather lazily with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He wore dark nail polish, making his fingers appear longer.

His eyes trailed your body, pressing his lips together as you realized how tightly you were clutching your phone and the card. “How did you get in here?” You asked, your voice barely audible.

He stood, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He walked over to you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your breath was measured, your body drawn to him as if you were an animal in heat. “You summoned me, puppy,” he answered, voice dipping an octave before dragging the card from your fingers. Your skin burned and sparked at his touch. His smell was intoxicatingly enticing, making your mouth water.

He held the card between two fingers, his eyes locking to yours indefinitely. “You even bound yourself to me,” he noted, letting his finger pad draw across the blood stain on the card. “Little minx,” he mumbled.

You swallowed. “What are you?” You managed, words uneven and almost jumbled.

He turned slightly on his heel, circling around you slowly, fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt before snaking around the back of your throat. His thumb teased against your skin almost as if he was restraining himself from ripping you in half. “They call me Sapnap. Some might categorize me as a demon, but that seems rather exaggerated, don’t you think?” He responded. “I’m here to help you reverse your regrets.”

You inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Baby, I’m here to make you feel good again,” he divulged, the heat of his breath skimming against your neck, urging you to submit to him. "I'm here to make you forget all about Him."

In an instant you found yourself pinned beneath him, the sheets on your bed cast aside along with most of your clothes. He watched you sternly as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his collared shirt, pupils blown with lust at your hungry appearance.

Sapnap ground his hips against yours, tugging on your thighs to bring you closer to him. Your back arched slightly, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, one of his large hands palming your breast. You stifled a moan, hips bucking against him. He pressed his tongue against your navel, licking a strip against your skin before he was in your ear again. His fingers curled around your waistband. "Uh uh, dove. I wanna hear you."

He leaned back on his knees, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs as he trailed towards your core. His eyes danced up to yours, briefly gauging your reaction before slipping his finger between the skin of your hips and your lacy undergarments, tugging them down your legs. He pressed open mouth kisses to your thighs once more, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh with a restraint you had half a mind to egg on.

He hooked his arms around your thighs, burying his face where you needed him the most. Your body reacted to the pleasure of his tongue almost instantly, fighting to clamp your legs around his head as your toes curled. Sapnap was taking his time with you, eating you out as if you were his last meal, humming slightly to send vibrations against your nerve endings.

You threaded your fingers through his dark hair, rolling your hips against his mouth and muttering his name. He moved, teeth sinking into your thigh as he pressed his finger into you, making you moan incoherently. You tugged at his hair, earning a groan in pleasure as you noticed him grinding against the mattress. His lips were back on your heat as his finger curled inside of you.

He added another finger, finding your sweet spot almost as if your body had been made for him specifically. With each swirl of his tongue and his moans at the sight of you enjoying the chase of your orgasm, the more the tension began to build within you. He quickened his pace as he watched you pant, coaxing you closer to the edge.

Sapnap moved his head from side to side, flattening his tongue for more friction, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, breath hot against your core. You relinquished control of your body, letting your climax rip through your body, leaving you breathless and stunned.

He wore the devil's smile as kissed the inside of your knee, praising you heavily for heeding to his demands. "Good girl," he cooed, voice dark and drawn with lust as he moved to press his lips against your shoulder. "Such a good girl."

His lips traveled beneath your ear, nipping at the skin before pressing his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands holding your chin.

He discarded his pants, spitting in his hand and stroking himself a few times as his eyes burned into yours. He dragged you towards him, gripping onto your hips before driving himself into you. You groaned at the pressure, grinding against his hips and earning a smirk from him. "So needy. Have I not been good to you thus far?" His words dripped with a god complex you had yet to taste.

You whimpered slightly before he rolled his hips against yours. He retracted himself before slowly thrusting into you, watching with pride as you writhed for more of him. "I could kill you, you know?" He stated, thrusting into you harshly, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head.

You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. "You won't," you moaned as he set a pace, digging his hips into yours.

Sapnap's other arm moved, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing slightly, as if showing you he could do worse. "Says who?" He provoked, pressing his lips against yours, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier, deeper as he buried himself into you. "Me," you answered. He grinned deviously, pinning your knee to your chest and pounding into you, basking in your moans like they were personalized ego boasts. "I can take it," you groaned quietly, enticing him. He tightened his hold on your neck, causing your vision to blur in pleasure as heat rushed through your body, his roughness a perfect catalyst to your cardinal hunger.

"That's right, sweetheart," he grunted, eyes seeming to burn brighter with your submission. "Take it," he mirrored, his pace relentless against you as if testing your limits. He pressed his thumb in your mouth, moaning as your teeth rested against it, tongue darting out against it. You focused on his eyes, trying not to roll your own as your body ached to climax.

You could see the veins in his neck becoming more prominent and he removed his thumb only to grip your jaw in his hand, shoving his tongue into your mouth to lap at your whimpers. His hands moved to pin your forearms to the mattress beside you, his lips melding against yours as the two of you pushed each other to orgasms. You could feel his pleasure coming undone within you, finally acting as the jumping-off point for your second climax.

You panted, hurriedly attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, sighing in pleasure.

He moved to begin dressing, holding your card between his teeth as he buckled his belt around his waist. Your mind blurred in bliss, still riding your high. It didn't really bother you if he left or stayed.

He finished buttoning his shirt as you sat up on your elbows, watching him straighten his appearance. "I'll call on you soon," he stated, tucking the card with your blood on it into his breast pocket.

You quipped an eyebrow at him. "This is a normal thing now?" You questioned, the situation seeming different.

He patted his pocket to gesture to the card. "You're mine, dove. I get you whenever I want," he smirked. He rested his knee on the edge of your bed, leaning down to press his lips against yours possessively.