#so I really wasn’t even considering the one that rejected me

[eattapeach]

Not me blindsided by my own hubris!!! Just got rejected from my first grad school and I’ve never been more shocked/dismayed in my life. There wasn’t any part of me that seriously thought that I wouldn’t get in. I worked really hard and hauled ass during my undergrad to ensure I would have lots of options afterwards and, at the risk of sounding utterly foolish, I thought that my final decision was just gonna to be a matter of funding—not opportunity! Academic failure is NOT something that I’m accustomed to and I feel like I’m not equipped to handle it. If anyone needs me I will be spiralling

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling

gn reader

When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.

You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.

If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.

So you do. The latter, that is.

Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.

You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.

But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…

In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.

He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 

Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.

He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.

You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.

And then he comes crawling back…

Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 

He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.

Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.

“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”

You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 

“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with a not-so-unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.

You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static beneath your touch. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.

But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”

“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out another short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”

He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.

You stop breathing. A dark sinkhole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.

“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”

He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.

“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”

He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.

The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.

His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…

Nothing. There’s a large exhale.

“I can’t do it…” 

You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a fresh rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.

He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.

This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.

“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”

The pity’s for you.

“This is what having my heart feels like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[seilon]

the waiting re: confirmation that I’ve been hired is actually making me insane good god I need to Know

[odoraful]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

wanderer would prefer not to be stopped on his way home, especially when he's had a hard few days

content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; 'kuni' nickname; pure fluff; just wanderer lowkey being a pathetic lover boy for you; 1.9k words

a/n: nothing else to say here besides i had a lot of fun writing this !! pls enjoy clingy wanderer !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hat Guy! Do yo-”

“Nope.”

Wanderer deadpanned, not even sparing a look at the scholar who addressed him as he walked past. It was at this point where most people would give up. Students of the Akademiya found that you had to catch the snarky scholar on a good day to strike up a casual conversation with him outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, this person was tenacious enough to not even let such an outright rejection faze him. Wanderer walked faster, only for his peer to match his stride.

“Hold on!” They cried out, slightly breathless from having to speed up. “You’re really not going to let me finish what I’m saying first?”

Wanderer scoffed. “What gave you that impression? My visible irritation? Or the fact that I’m actively trying to outpace you?”

“Hey! You don’t have to be so rude…” They frowned, voice trailing off in disappointment.

Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.

He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.

“Mir.”

He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.

“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.

If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.

“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.

What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.

“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”

Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.

“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”

“Just answer it.”

Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.

“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”

“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”

He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.

Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.

Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.

My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.

Kuni.

Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.

There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.

He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.

You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.

You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.

Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.

You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.

“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”

Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.

“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”

Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,

“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“

Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.

Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.

The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.

Wanderer had you in a tight hug.

Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.

“A-are you-”

“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.

Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.

“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.

His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”

Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.

“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”

There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,

“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”

Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.

“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.

Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.

You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.

“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[slutspinks]

obsessed — logan howlet

synopsis what started as a normal crush, developed into sweet obsession.

this fic contains: stalking, obsessive!logan, usual shit from wade but he is a bit serious here, fem!reader, stealing, home breaking?, foul language, m masturbation. logan acts like a a real perv.

author's note: sometimes, I wonder what’s wrong with me. I can’t believe I wrote a whole fic of logan jerking off to your panties. this is just a quick one shot, I think, not a whole fic. basically I resumed what could’ve been a 5k word story to less than 1K word— maybe I’ll write a second part where you fuck.

Lately, Logan has been thinking.

Thinking about you, Wade’s sweet childhood friend who lives next door.

And thinking about the way your footsteps echoed down the hall whenever you were off to work— your heels clicking with a slow pace and sometimes a bit more rushed because you were running late. His eyes would linger in the humidity spot in the living room ceiling, trying to conceive a picture of what were you wearing that day, even though he knew the answer already. Every day, you wore the same pencil skirt with a satin white shirt— except for Friday’s, that day you always wore dark grey pants. He knew because he followed you to work and back home, taking care of you.

He also could remember the way you’d look at him whenever Wade invited you over, you considered him your friend, even if everything you knew was a mask he put on so you wouldn’t notice what was really happening to him.

He wasn’t soft, not even a bit. But since the first time he met you, he decided he didn’t want you to see him with his usual brooding and grumpy self.

And that’s why he would help carry your groceries inside home, checking up on your pet cat and also watering your plants whenever you were away at your grandmas house for the weekend. He wanted to seem good and kind. That’s why he didn’t complain when you’d drag him and Wade to some rerun of your favorite movies— even if he didn’t like being around Wade in closed spaces.

His roommate’s footsteps distracted him from his train of thought about you, his usual witty remarks weren’t funny anymore and instead caused Logan’s head to throb at every word.

“… And then the asshole turned around and said, I’m gonna take her on a date! How dares he?- I mean sweet (y/n) definitely wouldn’t date that horrible imitation of Nick Cage”, Wade said, his hands taking a spoon and a bowl, opening the cupboard and taking out the cereal box and milk. Logan’s ears perked up to that, Who wanted to date you? After a few minutes later, he dared to ask.

“W-what did you just say?”, he asked, his hands lifting the spare blanket off his body. Wade’s non-existent eyebrow raised, “That I haven’t gone to the bathroom all week?”.

“No, idiot. You say somethin’ about a date and (y/n)?”, he grunted.

Wade smiled, milk spilling from the corners of his mouth, “Oh, pretty (y/n) is a heartbreaker, she’s rejected all the guys at work. They’re all assholes, but hear me out, that Nick Cage low-budget-imitation dude sure wants to get in her pants— or should I say skirt?— Don’t care, he just wants a taste of our sweet (y/n)”.

Logan groaned and got up, walking to the cupboard of the kitchen and taking a bourbon bottle, drinking a big gulp. Wade whistled, eyes wide and a teasing smirk on his lips, “You sure are a thirsty honey badger”.

“Fuck off”, Logan said.

Wade gave a sigh, leaving the spoon rest in his bowl, “Peanut, I know you like my sweet girl— just admit it. Carrying groceries, watering plants, taking care of her fucking cat!- Hell, you even fixed her plumbing. You don’t do shit here, but you’re trying to get on her good side aren’t ya?”.

Logan couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit ashamed, yes he wanted to get on your good side by doing charity work and Wade wasn’t dumb. If he was that good deciphering, then he surely knew about the missing things from your apartment were his doing— misplaced underwear, cups and shirts.

Wade sighed, giving Logan a serious glare “Look, I know you want to get laid and I understand— you’re like two-hundred years old and probably haven’t fucked in decades, but don’t hurt her, she’s my only friend”.

Logan chuckled bitterly, shaking his head, “She’s not even interested in me, bub”.

Wade rolled his eyes, “You’re so fucking dumb— she comes every Friday night to eat pizza and watch cringey rom-coms with us, she usually never came around much because she was always tired with work so I crashed at her place, but all of a sudden she wants to be here every. fucking. Friday. Explain that, idiot”.

He tastes Wade’s words cautiously, all this time he’s been harboring a crush he thought wasn’t reciprocal— he just knew you could not fall for an old man like him, you were young and very intelligent, so his little fantasies had to be just that, fantasies.

But Wade was igniting something he shouldn’t, he was giving Logan hope that maybe, a sweet girl like you, could fall for him.

It all got worse.

Logan spent more time snooping around your apartment than on his own— or well shared one— he just couldn’t help it anymore.

His dark hoodie covered the imminent guilt slowly creeping through him, a thin silk pink pantie around his fingers and your apartment’s key heavy on his jeans front pocket. Breaking into your apartment was an easy task, you weren’t home and you asked him to come and check on things as usual saying how much you loved your plants and cat but weren’t able to take them with you, so he acted good.

He promised to take care of them.

When you weren’t here, he’d invite himself in with the copy of your key— trying to get rid of the guilt feeling on his bones whenever you’d look at him with sparkling eyes, extending your own keys with eagerness every Saturday.

Hopefully, that guy at the office already got over you, if the multiple threats Logan made worked.

Today was Thursday, just another day until you crashed at Wade’s and Logan could finally see you. Another day where he’d lie about his whereabouts, saying something about taking Laura to swimming lessons on Wednesdays and his new fake job at this repair shop taking too much time any other day of the week.

“Where have you been, Peanut?”, Wade asks the moment Logan steps through the door, his hands resting inside his hoodie pocket.

“Watering plants”, he shortly responds, moving across the room to the kitchen, his eyes falling on yours and then to the bowls filled with popcorn and candies.

“Hey, Lo”, you greeted with a smile, his heart skipping a beat.

“What are you doing here? ‘S not Friday yet”, he asked, his clammy fingers rubbing against the fabric hidden in his pocket.

“Oh I know! But Wade was insisting I should come and check this rom-com with Nicholas Cage— Are you taking care of other apartments?”, you asked, your eyes traveling across his rigid form and parted lips.

“Uhm no”, he let out. You furrowed your brows but nodded, deciding to not say anything.

“Oh, if it’s difficult for you to check on mine’s alright, I can always ask Wade or Mr. Johnson”, your sweet voice reassured, a tent forming in his jeans. He quickly shook his head no, “Don’t worry, yours is the only one”.

After changing his clothes and hiding your panties deep inside his jeans back pocket, he finally relaxed and watched the movie— his arms stayed the whole time on the couch’s rest, hands playing with your soft hair every now and then. When you left, he waited until Wade stopped his usual rambling before going to his spot on the couch. Listening to Wade’s snores through the walls after a few minutes.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you, his body was restless, changing positions every three seconds. Then he finally stopped, his eyes glueing to the ceiling his jeans constricting his aching erection.

Freeing it from its confinement, his hand took it in a tight grip, squeezing and thumb moving to the head, wiping the precum drop that gathered there. It felt hard as steel, his hand squeezing a bit tighter moving up and down slowly. He didn’t think he’d last, he’s been horny since a few weeks ago, but these last few days, he felt he could explode just by looking at you. All the blood running south the moment his eyes stopped on your work attire, your ass shaped perfectly.

He could almost imagine the softness of your skin under his hands, the way your chest would heave up and down with every touch— he wasn’t even a bit ashamed.

He also couldn’t feel ashamed of the way his nostrils inhaled your scent— your stolen panties on his left hand while his right one jerked his dick off.

He was close, so close…

At the same time, his mind conjured a sweet illusion. Your finger working on your clit and pretty tits moving up and down at the same time your breath came out ragged.

Moving the blanket out of the way, the air hit his hot shaft, making a shiver creep but disappearing as soon as he came.

With your panties in hand, he cleaned all the mess.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 

“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 

Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 

He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 

“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 

This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 

The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 

There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 

And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 

“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”

When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.

And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 

He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 

His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 

Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 

Other than that, home has always been your place. 

And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 

The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 

It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 

The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.

Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 

Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 

Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 

.

“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 

The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 

Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 

“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 

Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 

His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 

All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 

“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 

Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.

But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 

“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 

Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 

.

His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 

He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 

And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 

So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 

. 

He’s never been this nervous in his life. 

The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 

What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.

So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 

You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 

“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.

“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.

His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 

“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 

You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 

“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 

Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 

This is why Atsumu loves you—

This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 

—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 

“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 

He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 

You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 

After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 

You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 

“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 

You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 

“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”

The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 

He feels like crying again. 

“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 

Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 

But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 

You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 

You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 

“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[onyourhyuck]

Fix Me Softly. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Open wide pretty girl will ya?”

— Summary: Your best friend has the most dirtiest thoughts about you and he isn’t shy about sharing them with you.

— Genre: Himbo Haechan. Haechan’s literally the most perverted person in this fic. There’s just something about unhinged Haechan who’s a sex maniac tbh. Switch!hyuck. DUB-CON. Oral (fem receiving) and throat fucking (male receiving). Unprotected sex. Haechan is obsessed with y/n thighs. Face riding. Pinning. Cum-play. Hickeys. Possessive Haechan.

— Notes: Sex Obsessed Haechan >>>

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There’s one person you won’t ever understand.

That person being your best friend Haechan.

He was like someone out of another world, when he’s with you Haechan knows zero boundaries. He knows zero social cues. When you are around him Haechan is almost like a wild-animal.

“God you’re so pretty when you study. I want to kiss you so bad Y/n.” He wasn’t shy at all even though he’s meant to be doing this working assignment with you in your bedroom, he was too distracted by your serious face watching the laptop.

You’re trying your best to not give out a reaction considering that Haechan actually enjoys having you hear his dirty thoughts about you all the freaking time. Every minute you guys are together there was not a single moment where he doesn’t tell you how much he wants to fuck you.

You frown looking over at him. “Did you finish your assignment yet or are you here to disturb me?”

Seeing Haechan watching you so intensely it’s almost as if he was already imagining himself wanking off to you while he sees your serious face. He loves it when you scold him too.

Haechan pouts a bit. “No I didn’t finish the assignment. You’re too distracting.”

You sigh. “I told you if you won’t take this seriously I won’t invite you back to my bedroom.”

“But I want you so bad, you can’t do this to me. Please just one kiss and I’ll focus that’s all it takes for me to focus on our college assignment.”

You’re in disbelief at your best friend. Haechan has always had this thing about you. He enjoys your presence and your company. You’re attractive and he just so happens to be attracted to his best friend. Haechan doesn’t even want to hide it how much he is attracted to you.

Sometimes he would lean to kiss you and you would move your head to push him away. Sometimes in class he wants to touch your thigh so badly so he does it and you slap his hand away.

“I really have the urge to take off my jeans and have you take my cock in your mouth right now…” he whispers, as if this was a very casual thing to say to a friend right now.

At times you’re the one rejecting him and telling him to keep his annoying thoughts away because he feels like you don’t believe him when he says how much he wants to fuck you. How much he wants to take a taste of your pussy or the fact that he actually wants to kiss your tempting little pretty lips.

“You’re such a pervert.” You mutter mockingly while he leans in to kiss you on your mouth but you move your face away.

He whines when you moved away from his lips just about when he was going to touch them.

Haechan curls his fingers on your sleeve that you’re wearing. You glare at him now that you see how much he was giving you those puppies eyes.

“Ahh Y/n please one kiss won’t hurt you.”

You can’t believe him but sometimes you really do have the urge to shut him up by kissing him so he could just do the work.

“Shut up and do your work already.” You huff. How do you fix your best friend? You have no idea how to fix Haechan at all.

Haechan draws shapes on your arms with his fingers while watching you. The black hair with white stripes in them make him look edgy but in a way the edgy clothes and style he has makes him attractive. You do admit your friend here was very attractive and he probably has many pros to himself.

But the only side thing is that Haechan wants to have your mouth stuffed full of his meat in your mouth and you’re unstable to process that image in your head.

The fingers with black nail polish on them softly tan down from your forearm to your thighs now to draw shapes on there.

You stare at him while he keeps the eye contact back. For a moment you’re just watching each other in complete silence.

He wasn’t doing his work, and you’re rocking with the fact that there won’t be any work done between you guys at all.

“Please Y/n one kiss… I’m begging you.”

Haechan whispers to your ears with his soft whining voice sounding almost like whimpers that makes your skin crawl.

You’re tempted to just do it so you can get on with the college work honestly.

You glare forward with your hand reaching out grabbing a hold of his chin and slowly lean in kissing him roughly for a second or two. You pull away and leave your hand on his chin. You saw the boy gasp and how much he enjoyed it he was moaning by a single touch of your hand on his skin, and a single small kiss took half of his breath away.

Haechan was craving more now that he knows how your lips feel on his. He leans closer and takes a longer kiss on your mouth without you noticing. You’re now kissing Haechan, trapped in a kiss he puts on your body while crawling on top of you with his running hands down to your waist.

The laptop was pushed aside and you’re kissing him back feeling your senses shut you down. Haechan’s tongue roams across your own walls while he was kissing you. Exploring your sweet lingering mouth that he’s been fantasying about for so long.

It feels so artful to have you spread out on your bed in your dorm room with clothes coming off so gracefully leaving your figure looking empty until Haechan pressed forward his heart-shape mouth dangerously trailing down to your dainty collarbones, upwards your neck leaving marks on your tidy skin. It made you look like a toy in his eyes, but you’re now his toy to be played with. You belong to him now, because the sight of those love bites were a bright reddish colour spreading right up and down your throat angle.

Adding the adept hands between your thighs, he squeezed your inner thigh before rubbing it up and down. The small caresses has your fuzzy mind overflowing out a cracking hole out of nowhere, and the area on your panties were soaking by the time he was gazing you with such a high maintenance look behind those eyes, that tell you you’re not going anywhere.

So clean and cunning. The growing shaft in those tights jeans of his was hardening by the sight of your open legs where he ran down a single finger down to your clothed clit.

You moan on the outside, despite trying to mentally keep your own noises away from reality. You’re here staring Haechan down as he admires your leakage patch on your panties.

“Oh Y/n…you’re so wet for me. I always knew you wanted me but you were playing hard to get. You’re such a minx.” He coos with a growling tease.

Looking at your dumbfounded expression when he said this. Haechan leans down to your ears kissing it. “You’re such a whore, I knew you were lying to me. Rejecting me all this time.” His hands squeeze your hips as he lifts you up on the bed a little.

You mumble a few trails of sighs when Haechan suddenly swapped your positions with you on his lap while he was leaning back casually. Expression on his face tells you he wants something from you and you’re bound to give it to him. It was a fact and not a choice here, and your stomach had this strange fluttering knot deep inside telling you to do it.

He leers mockingly. “Why don’t you let me have a taste of your pussy, Y/n?”

Brushing over his hands on your thighs up and down as you shiver when hearing his words, your voice comes out so tiny and small compared to Haechan’s voice and his intimidating eyes. The black eyeliner on the waterline makes his black eyes so much more magnetic and the black painted fingertips brushing down the skin on your thighs, you could dissolve like crazy from how good his touches feel.

The question was rather sounding like a statement more than an actual question.

You knew deep down the rhetoric answer for him when he moved up to your ass behind groping it pulling your body up only a bit so your thighs welcome the sight of your pussy above him. Haechan pushed aside the wet patch on your panties on the side and then, a grounding slithering wetness of a warm wetness covers your womanhood. Haechan is almost like a starved maniac, coating your cunt with his warm saliva with extreme motions. Circling down the tip of his tongue inside your walls only to pull away and press down even more force of his lips on your own tempting lips down below.

It was wet and sloppy just like how Haechan liked it. He loves hearing your body jolt with each movements because you don’t know what else to expect from the eccentric sex maniac underneath you eating you out.

You don’t know what he will do next, but all you can think about was how skilled Haechan was at eating you out while you’re pressing your thighs on the sides of his face and shoulders. Your toes were curling up with each stroke of his gliding tongue.

He growls against your mound while tightly digging the fingernails in your thick thighs.

“Roll your hips for me baby, please.” It sounded so desperate when Haechan rasps out below your sensitive parts.

It was a demand too. Springing the hips backwards and forward around in all sorts of motion you’re realising the increasing pleasure of your own body, driving down a road. The boy underneath you was nothing more than just a hungry wild animal growling against your wet slit running down his chin.

You’re releasing out your moans without a single thought able to be processed; it’s like every single braincell you had was now no longer existing.

Knot in your stomach was heavy, like a threatening ticking bomb ready to combust.

Haechan loves how you are riding his face now to your own pace that became extremely fast when the pleasure you felt became so much more intense than the high you’ve received from him previously. Dragging down the black painted fingernails on your thighs you’re grunting when you feel Haechan sucking on your clit. Abusing it.

Pressuring on your clit sucking on it with his plum heart-shape lips, as well as vibrating his grunting noises that he can’t contain. You taste absolutely heavenly to not comment on.

He fantasise too much about you. Too long he waited for this moment you’d give in to his shenanigans. It’s been far too long.

One point in his life Haechan was convinced that he cannot be fixed by anyone. The obsession he has with you wasn’t something ordinary.

But here you are Fixing Him Softly by letting him have a taste of you, letting him eat you out like the silly whore you are. Oh how the tables have turned. You ended up rejecting him for so long only to end up in this vulnerable position.

“That’s right, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” Haechan affirms with a domineering tone that creates goosebumps on your skin.

You’re nodding your head. “Fuck— Yes…! I’m right there…”

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you gasp.

Undertook by the coming heat happening in between your spreading legs you are nipping at your bottom lip as broken incomplete moans break out. Haechan sucks on the sensitive side part of your pussy finally eager to taste your running juices that are dripping all the way down his chin and neckline. You’re holding your own hanging mouth as the heat on your face creates this flush, as if you were sick. You’re unable to see or breathe for a long moment or two. It leaves behind this scorching ember burning in your stomach.

Quicker strokes pull out of you as Haechan was groaning when your thighs tenderly pushed and squeeze around his face, while he rubs down his hand on your bare back.

“Such a filthy slut, that’s right take all of it.” He said with heavy groans coming out as if he held his breath in when the taste of his tongue remains. “Mmm, I love this perfect pussy of yours.”

He was so drunk on you. Drunk of your taste.

The growing number in his pants was due to take place when he looks back at your feverish face. You look so intoxicated, as if he made you this way.

Grabbing on your body the hands creep at your back while the place changes. You’re moving when you see him standing up over the bed dropping down the thick layer of jeans down, along with the boxers. He saw your eyes widen immediately when you saw the shaft spring up looking so wide and big.

Eyes lurches down to his cock threatening you by standing up against his perfectly flat and tone stomach. The beautiful tan on his body makes you salivate and drool. You cannot hold back when your eyes crawl higher up to take a look at Haechan who was smirking.

He purrs. “Open wide pretty girl will ya?” Brushing his fingers under your chin stroking it, you shiver as you feel your cheeks heat up.

You weren’t expecting the sight of him to be this ethereal.

Your voice comes out hushed. “Mm Haechan…” As the round ball shaped tip pressed by your mouth. He purposely teased your mouth by making his large tip poke but not go in your mouth at all.

The tip pulls at your lower lip and you whine when he was now deciding to be such a tease.

“Hurry up.” You demand with your stern eyes, loving that you’re now getting more demanding and less shy.

“Nuhuh baby, i give commands here.”

Haechan wants to see what you’d do if he continued to be as bratty as he is now. You’re waiting for him to give you the next move but he was staying still.

Biting his bottom lip when you glare at him. There’s no way you’ll let him boss you around when you’re this needy to have a taste of him now.

Pulling your palm over the shaft you grab it forward pushing the very fine thickly round shaped tip inside your warming mouth. Haechan wasn’t expecting you to be this quick with your reflexes. He didn’t see this coming. To watch you take slight control of the situation by pulling his entire length inside your mouth. You let him overfill your space.

It feels so damn good though.

He bit his bottom lip, raspy husked speaking out as his hands brushed your hair into a messy half-tried ponytail. “Goddamn baby…didn’t know you had that in you.”

Shifting between teasing you and sounding so heavenly under you. Haechan was enjoying the sight of your head bopping up and down — you took him so seriously and perfectly in your small mouth. Despite the large size, you managed to reach down to his very end.

You make him limp with each stroke your tongue rolls against wrapping your saliva and own slipping tongue like a blanket on his cock.

Stuffing you full but you don’t seem to mind when Haechan was moaning vocally.

He was very open about you knowing every— and you mean every trailing dirty thought he has in his brain right now.

“Shit. You look so much better with my cock stuffing you full. I bet you love this don’t you?” His tongue licks his bottom lip. “Am I right?”

Brushing fingers in the messy ponytail behind your head so he could see the full show you put on while your kitten licks turn to strokes.

You moan a sweet hum against the shaft as you’re trailing down your lips even more.

The tension only grows as you’re sucking him so much Haechan can barely stay still. You’re making him physical weak on the knees and he can’t stay still when you’re practically sucking him dry.

Haechan thrusts forward the hips. Whenever it got so much you’re dragging down his cock into your throat so the thick mushroom tip was banging the back of your mouth, as you deep throat him, Haechan couldn’t help but want more deep ness and he became greedy.

Hips thrust even more and more into your face making all sorts of gagging sounds come out while Haechan’s black hair with soft white streaks became messy hanging down his eyes while the dark gaze was watching you take everything he gave.

Fucking your mouth was always a dream come true for him and now that he was experiencing what fantasy he craves,

He can’t get enough now.

“Oh…oh mmfgh y/n you’re doing so well right now, give me more… please give me more. Please.. fuck,”

Crying out for you. Haechan’s eyes go dim and he was breaking every soft whine escaping those shattering lips.

“I need you to milk my cock dry until i can’t cum anymore.”

You knew that he meant every word underline in bright red. He was being serious. Haechan wants you to suck his own very soul out of him.

Who were you to say no to Haechan when he was begging you so nicely? You feel some empowering dominance over you now when you see the boy shaking from the overstimulating electricity running down his spine and overtaking the very burning ball feeling in his stomach.

Flickering your tongue down his cock once more, Haechan’s head sputters. It feels like a raging headache has split his head into two. The overfilling sensation of cumming inside your mouth as the final push results in Haechan’s knees becoming jelly.

Haechan wails. “Cumming… ah fuck, fuck. I love your mouth so much.. so good,” He breathes heavily.

Detaching your jawline pulling away from the cock in your mouth, it slips out with a watery liquid that tastes between sweet and salty. You can’t put your tongue on what he tastes like. But it was definitely rewarding.

Especially when you see the tired exhaustion on his face.

It tells you everything. You made him have the biggest orgasm he could ever imagine. Haechan gasps when he sits down with a sluggish head on the pillows and you turn your head towards him.

You definitely fixed him. Made him much calmer.

“You still have your assignment to finish.”

You remind him with a strict gaze.

Haechan closed his eyes grumbling. “I know, I know. I’ll finish it in a minute just give me a second — geez Y/n you just sucked me into the next century and you mention the assignment!”

“Okay? Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do that.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.

[lubrumalis]

ghost character analysis

tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.

this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).

ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall

we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.

ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.

ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.

in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.

so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).

would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.

also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.

ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just have a really low body count.

ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!

ghost isn’t close with tf141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed. tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes each other. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.

ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.

ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.

ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.

ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀

ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.

ghost wears a mask... not because hes insecure and traumatized it's to separate ghost from simon riley. first of all he learned the consequences of revealing your identity during deployment, in the comic, he reveals his face in missions before his family got killed. i think he wears a mask because 1) its practical, no one knows who he is, 2) an analogy for himself to remind him simon riley, his original identity, was dead the moment his family was murdered, this SAS soldier with a skull mask is GHOST (yes this is canon, ghost references in the comic!).

in issue #1 while some kids were being held hostage, he starts telling his life story to them to calm them down/distract them from the bad situation. this is his explanation to why he wears a skull mask, word by word: "I bet you're wondering why I wear these bones on my face. It's a tribute to an old friend of mine. He's dead now, but man if he wasn't the baddest motherfucker on the planet."

in issue #6, when ghost was trekking through a jungle in the middle of nowhere attempting to kill roba (a drug lord that started this all, brainwashed soldiers to kill ghosts family), he was never caught. ghost himself, the narrator, says that "even for a single man to get through the jungle, the patrols, the wall, the security... well that man would have to be a ghost."

however, im still a little confused whether or not reboot ghost and 2009 have the same backstories. reboot ghosts mask is more realistic and his look is much more intimidating, his reason for wearing that kind of mask is probably psychological warfare (getting milena the financier to speak up about makarov). i think 2009 ghosts reason to wearing a mask is more personal compared to reboot.

BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???

i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.

ghost would not cheat on his s/o. i can't stress how important this hc is, because it's so out of character for him to do so. sure, guys in the military statistically have higher divorce rates, incidences of infidelity, and much more red flag stuff, but knowing what happened to him, he would never do that. doesn't matter how stressed, lonely, sexually frustrated this man is; he would not cheat on his partner. this guy has been through far more stressful situations and got through it, you think hes gonna cheat because hes stressed because of work?

its not sunshine and rainbows or absolute toxicity being with him. it's not really a mix of both either. ghost isn't that princess treatment, super squishy and cuddly, sweet guy who likes fluffy stuff. he definitely isn't the toxic guy who leaves you with mixed signals either.

hes quite the gentleman when it comes to approaching relationships, hes seen how his dad treated his mom, and ghost wants to do the exact opposite. i believe ghost likes to use the traditional courting methods when dating someone: gifting flowers, paying for dates, holding the door open (ladies first typa guy!!), the old fashioned stuff. idk if i should point it out again but this guy DOES NOT FW modern dating practices, he wouldn't download dating apps, or start 'talking stages'. i dont think he would write love letters just because hes not very good at writing poetry or expressing his feelings in the first place.

theres still downsides to being with him. the long distance, the time being apart (months and months). but i dont think he'd go as far as being emotionally avoidant.

also something really random ive noticed is that 2009 and reboot ghost are very different, personality wise. i like to think that 2009 ghost represents simon riley much better, but the reboot ghost actually gives the essence and character of what a 'ghost' in the military is.

more random headcanons:

simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)

hates snakes and spiders

probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!

avoids saying manchester slang when deployed

drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)

listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too

shaves his beard

is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄

i don't enjoy hcs of ghost being the scariest out of tf141 (appearance wise yes). but soap seems much more scary imo, he was the youngest guy to pass SAS selections in the history of the UK military, and was nicknamed soap because of fast and good he is at cleaning up 'messes' (basically killing people).

id arguably say ghost is the most compassionate out of 141, if we're talking about the OG 2009 one.

[writing-imagines]

Even Mean Girls Cry // Regina George

Summary: After hooking up with Regina for a year, you finally get to see her vulnerable side after The Plastics reject her at lunch.

Possible warnings: light swearing, bullying, and Regina being Regina

Pairing: Regina George x gender!neutral reader (readers gender literally isn’t mentioned)

A/n: first fic of 2024!! I love Reneé’s Regina so feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts about her

Regina George wasn’t a good person. It was evident ever since the first grade when she told everyone that Peter Howell peed himself after she spilled apple juice on him. So, you did your best to avoid her, and her ever changing minions, every day as you grew up. When you reached high school, Regina’s antics became more frequent and hurtful. By the end of your freshman year, she had at least one embarrassing piece of information on everyone in school, yourself included. 

Your streak of successfully avoiding Regina came to an end after winter break during your sophomore year. Ms. Norbury asked you to be Regina’s Intermediate Math tutor since you had the highest grades in your Algebra 2 class. You were hesitant to accept the opportunity considering Regina’s reputation, but you knew tutoring would look great on your college application. You accepted Ms. Norbury’s request and so started your relationship with Regina George. 

At first, she sat across from you in the empty cafeteria after school, chomping loudly on her gum and texting a thousand words a minute. Her behavior continued every day that week and by Friday, you’d had enough. 

“Regina, stop wasting my time and pay attention.” You finally snapped after she blew an obnoxiously large pink bubble with her gum. Regina’s eyes slowly rose from her phone screen to you. 

“What did you just say to me?” Her eyes resting on you instantly made you lose the confidence you just had. 

“Oh-I…I meant you should pay attention. I’m trying to teach you, so you don’t fail your next algebra test.” You smiled nervously as Regina’s gaze dug further into you. After a few more moments of intense staring, the blonde let out a scoff. 

“You know, you’re actually kind of cute.” Her blue eyes looked you over, this time in a more flirtatious way. You felt like a lamb dangling over a hungry mountain lion. 

“Thanks.” You nervously looked away and rubbed the back of your neck in an attempt to get any relief from Regina’s presence. 

“So, you agree? You think you’re cute.” 

“Umm…I mean, I don’t really know.” Regina’s smile softened and she looked at you as if you were a lost puppy. Without warning, the blonde stood up and made her way to your side of the table. She sat down in the seat beside you and scooted as close as she possibly could, causing your face to warm and your heart to beat faster. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Y/n?” Regina questioned with her pointer and middle finger dancing on your thigh. Your throat went dry at the mention of the one thing you were embarrassed of. In a school full of hormonal teenagers, you were truly the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet. You were kicking yourself for accidentally telling Karen the sensitive information during a bonfire last year. 

“You know the answer, Regina.” You said with a defeated exhale. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Regina, instead, you kept your eyes glued to the table. Suddenly, the two fingers that danced on your thigh were placed gently under your chin, forcing you to look at the blonde beside you. Her eyes were kinder, and her smile was still soft, making you feel less embarrassed. 

“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” You didn’t say anything, instead, you softly smiled and took in Regina’s features. You had never noticed how pretty her eyes were or how full her lips were. 

“Do you want to kiss me, Y/n?” Regina’s eyebrows lifted with the question. Without even thinking, you blurted out the answer. 

“Yes.” You swore for a moment Regina began to blush as she pushed a few stray hairs away from her face. 

“Okay. Close your eyes.” 

You did as you were told. For a moment, you were worried it was all just a prank, but when you felt Regina’s lips press against yours, you knew it had to be real. You did your best to reciprocate the kiss, causing Regina to let out a small moan, which caused your stomach to flip about ten times. Suddenly, you felt Regina’s hands find your neck and her perfectly manicured nails rested on the nape of your neck, effectively pulling you in deeper. 

The sound of a door slamming shut caused both of you to pull away quickly. You couldn’t help but stare at Regina with a bewildered look, seriously questioning if the kiss happened. 

“Wow, you're a pretty good kisser, Nerd.” 

“T-Thanks. You’re good too.” You sputtered with the most nervous tone you had ever heard from yourself. The blonde laughed before running her fingers along the edge of her lips to wipe away any smeared lip gloss. 

“I know.”  The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours before Regina spoke up. 

“So, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She quickly stood up and gathered her things as if nothing had happened. 

“I’ll see you on Monday.” You echoed, wiping Regina’s cherry flavored lip gloss off your lips. 

“Bye, Nerd.” 

“Bye, Regina.” 

Almost a full year later and your hookups with Regina were still going strong. In fact, ever since Cady Heron started causing drama between the girls, you had been spending all of eighth period in the back seat of Regina’s Jeep, making out like it was your last moments on earth. Not to mention, secretly hooking up with the queen bee of North Shore gave you a major confidence boost that even Regina noticed. Your relationship had even gone to the next level: texting each other about things that didn’t involve when and where to hookup. 

You were sitting in Trigonometry when your phone pinged. You quickly checked it, not wanting to risk Ms. Norbury confiscating it. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see that Regina had texted you. 

RG: Sweatpants are the only things that fit me right now 

Y/n: So? 

RG: So? Jesus Y/n. I can’t wear sweatpants to lunch! 

Y/n: Because of the stupid rules YOU made?

RG: They aren’t stupid 

Y/n: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The girls will understand 

“Y/n, care to share with that class what on your phone is so important that you’re missing out on practice test questions?” 

“No. Sorry, Ms. Norbury. It won’t happen again.” 

“Good. Now, as I was saying…” You watched Ms. Norbury turn to write something on the board and quickly sent another text to Regina. 

Y/n: Just got called out by Norbury for texting you. Hope you’re happy 

You went the rest of class without hearing from Regina. In fact, you went most of the day without hearing from her. It was a little weird, but you knew she had a lot going on and it wasn’t like you needed constant communication with each other. 

When lunch came around, it was the same old same old. You sat down with some of your other tutor friends and talked about your day. As Daisy Smith talked about her failed attempt to teach Karen about fractions, you saw Regina walk towards The Plastics. True to her word, she wore gray sweatpants that grabbed your, and several others, attention. You didn’t eye Regina for long, not wanting anyone to accuse you of being a creep or being in love with her. You looked down at your lunch only for the room to suddenly go quiet. 

“You can’t sit with us!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the silent room. No one dared to even gasp as Regina fired back. 

“Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could tell Regina was talking through gritted teeth. 

“What do you think, Cady?” Gretchen asked, her voice once again echoing through the room. 

“Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules.” Seeing the sly look on Cady’s face made you want to march over to her and smash a tray of food in her face. You knew that would lead to a suspension, so you made a mental note to figure out some way to get back at Cady that wouldn’t result in a week off school.

“Fine.” 

Regina turned around to see every eye in that room on her. You could tell by the look on her face that for once, she hated the attention. Not a single person in that room moved to make room for Regina as she walked down the aisle. 

“Daisy, scoot down.” You quickly nudged the redhead to make room for Regina.

“Regina, you can sit with us.” You offered, eyes slightly full of hope that she would accept the offer and somehow make the situation better.

“I’m not sitting with you losers.” She spat out as she stormed past your table. 

“What a bitch.” Glenn Coco scoffed. Your blood boiled at Glenn’s comment, but you knew you had to play it cool to avoid any suspicion. 

“Guys, I forgot my math book in Ms. Norbury’s. I’m going to grab it really quick.” 

You quickly got up from the table, leaving your tray behind, and stormed off to find Regina. You searched her usual hangout spots, the maintenance room and the girl’s locker room in the gym. When you didn’t find her in either place, you made your way to the only other place she could be, the parking lot.

Sure enough, as you approached her Jeep, you saw Regina sitting in the passenger seat. Even from far away, you could tell she was crying. Cautiously, you approached the car and tapped on her window. The blonde’s head instantly shot up, revealing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks. You had never seen Regina cry before, and the sight actually shocked you to your core. Without saying a word, you walked over to the driver’s side and climbed in. 

“What are you doing?” Regina questioned through sniffles as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. 

“I’m taking you home.” Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you noticed a picture of Regina, Karen, and Gretchen resting on her dashboard as you drove out of the parking lot. 

“I don’t need you to take me home.” Regina tried to use her usual venomous tone, but it came out shaky and pitiful. 

“I don’t care if you need me to. I want to take you home. That was fucking ridiculous.” 

After a few minutes of silence, you looked over to see tears still rolling down Regina’s face. Based on how her bottom lip was quivering, you knew Regina really needed to cry. You carefully reached your right hand over to Regina and grabbed her hand. 

“It’s okay to cry. They tried to humiliate you in front of the whole school. You don’t have to hide it from me.” You squeezed Regina’s hand, which caused her to quickly pull her hand away. 

“I am not crying because of those bitches. I’m crying because all I can wear is sweatpants and my mascara is ruined.” That time Regina was able to spit out her usual venom. While her tone would intimidate most people, it let you know Regina was going to be okay. 

“Those are still valid reasons to cry.” You said matter-of-factly. You felt Regina’s eyes land on you again, causing you to glance over at her. 

“Why are you so nice to me all the time?” 

“Because I’m a nice person.” You shrugged, not wanting to give away your true feelings for Regina. 

“I think it’s because you like me.” 

“And what if I did?” You replied without missing a beat. Once again, you were kicking yourself for not thinking before you spoke. 

“I’d have to give you a makeover. I can’t date anyone who dresses like that.” 

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” 

“Nothing, if you’re going for a grocery store clerk.” You scoffed and acted offended by Regina’s words, which made the blonde crack a smile. 

“I do not dress like a grocery store clerk.” 

You both chuckled as you pulled up to the George's home. You instantly took note that Mrs. George’s car was missing from the driveway. 

“Do you want to come in? My mom isn’t home.” Regina looked at you with hopeful eyes. Not wanting to leave Regina alone after a traumatic event, you decided that it would be a good idea for you to stick around for a little while longer.

“Yeah, I’ll come in for a little bit.” 

You turned off the car and let Regina take the lead into her home. The second the front door closed behind you, Regina took your hand and led you up to her room. 

“Shoes off and get on the bed.” The blonde commanded.

“Regina, I don’t think we should-”

“Relax, Nerd. I just want you to hold me and tell me I’m pretty.” 

You quickly kicked your shoes off and lied down on the right side of the bed. Once you were comfortable, Regina joined you. Within seconds, her head found a comfortable spot on your chest, resting between your jaw and collarbone. Her hand found its way down to your stomach and balled the fabric of your shirt into her hand. After Regina was comfortable, you snaked your arm around her and held her close. You couldn’t help but look down at the blonde with a smile. When she wasn’t ruining people’s lives, Regina was actually kind of sweet. 

“Hey, Regina?”

“What, Nerd?” 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You could feel Regina’s smirk against your neck, which only made you fall a little harder for her.

You laid there, holding the blonde like your life depended on it. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder about finally telling Regina how you felt about her. It seemed like a good idea, especially after a hard day, but the thought of losing her stopped you. So, you just let Regina George, the meanest girl in North Shore, sleep on your chest while you held her close. 

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Wants

More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!

No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?

Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26

Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 

“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.

“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.

“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.

Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.

“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”

“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”

The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.

“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.

“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”

And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.

Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 

Yet…

“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 

You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.

“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”

“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”

There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 

Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 

The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.

Crack

The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.

“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.

“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.

“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”

“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.

“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”

He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.

“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.

You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 

“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.

“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”

“It’s as good a reason as any.”

Silence.

You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?

“That’s it?”

“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”

It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.

“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.

“You said no.” You shrugged.

“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”

You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.

“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”

“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”

Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.

“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”

Oh.

Oh.

Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.

“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.

Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 

He liked you too.

A lot.

A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.

“I see…”

It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.

A moment passes in silence.

There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.

“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”

Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.

You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.

“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.

“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.

That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.

“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.

“...I’d like that…”

In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.

Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.

He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.

In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.

“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.

“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”

Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 

And he wants to show you how much he wants you.

His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.

His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.

There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.

Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.

“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.

“You know why.” You say defiantly.

“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.

“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.

He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.

Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 

“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”

For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”

“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.

“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”

His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.

“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”

His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.

“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”

You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.

“I want you to want me, just as I am.”

There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 

You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 

“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”

You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 

“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.

“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.

“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 

“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 

His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.

“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.

“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.

“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.

“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”

“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”

Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?

“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.

“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.

“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.

“T-then why..?”

“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.

“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”

“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.

“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”

He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.

“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.

“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.

“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”

Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.

You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 

Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.

“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”

Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.

A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.

“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 

The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.

And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 

It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.

“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.

“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”

Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.

“But now that is me… Ugh.”

“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.

“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.

“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”

“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 

“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.

You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.

“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”

“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.

[jarofstyles]

Strawberry Sunrise

Helloooo. Welcome to part one of a short series I’m doing. I’ve been dying to do a sporty/ personal trainer sort of thing so I’ve picked this back up after abandoning it for a bit! Please leave feedback if this is something you’d like to see more of on here!

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2-3 and 180+ exclusive writings

Warnings- mention of stalking, consent, gym culture, men being creeps, smitten H, anxiety

WC- 3.8k

Harry had always enjoyed the gym.

The burn in his muscles was his release of choice, choosing to express his innermost emotions with working up a sweat as he ran miles on the treadmill, muscles straining as he lifted and knuckles sore as he worked the bag. He’d spend hours working out purely for enjoyment and release in his time off, not only for the burn but from the community surrounding it. That being said, it made a lot of sense that when he got tired early on in the corporate world, he decided to become a personal trainer. A really successful one at that- thankfully, considering his father had been very skeptical at the profession change.

Working at a higher end gym, the facilities always remained spotless. There was a sauna and steam room, an in-ground heated pool and jacuzzi room, lush locker rooms with wooden locker cubbies and provided locks and fluffy white towels, and even held a boxing ring on the bottom floor which he loved to spar in in his free time. It was in a refashioned warehouse, lux looking in a rustic way.

He built his career and clientele over the span of a few years and had gotten into the groove of it fairly quickly. Working with positive reinforcement and meditative breathing before and after each session, people found his presence calming and many trusted him to help get them to their potential- which he proudly did. His routine varied but it always ended the day with a smoothie from the smoothie bar run inside the lobby. Choco PB, Mango Delight, or a Strawberry Sunrise with extra protein were his go tos.

One of his new favorite parts about his job, though, was the new receptionist at the front desk. Y/N.

A complete and utter sweetheart who, for a lack of better words, was a breath of fresh air in the usually gruff, testosterone filled setting. He loved watching her chat, even more watching her politely reject the many customers who tried to get her number. She didn’t seem to have a clue just how alluring she was. Her beaming smile and saccharine little giggle that made his toes curl, he was crushing on her big time. If he wasn’t afraid to risk her feeling comfortable at the work environment by potentially rejecting him, he’d have asked her out already but it was only 4 months in and she was a hit with everyone. He didn’t want to be the reason she left. Most of the other trainers were in relationships or married so she had been safe and had a good relationship with them all as colleagues, though Harry liked to flirt with her lightheartedly. He could tell she got her a little flustered and the arrogant son of a bit in him fucking loved it.

But what he didn’t love, though, was when she hesitantly found him with teary eyes after locking the front door with shaky hands as closing time finished and it was just employees of the gym. Her face was pale, spooked and Harry was not a fan of. Fear didn’t suit her.

“Harry?” Her shaky voice whispered. “I don’t mean to bother you at all, but if- could you wait for me before you leave? There’s… there’s that one guy, one of Liam’s clients? He kept asking me out and he got mad that I really said no and he’s been waiting outside at closing time and I’m just-‘I’m scared and….”’a quiver of her lip made his chest ache while also burning in rage.

Something he hated more than anything was someone who couldn’t take no for an answer, more specifically men who couldn’t let their bruised ego be healed in private, lick their wounds and accept that they’d not gotten what they wanted. Instead they harassed the other person as if the fucking answer would change. But to do it to Y/N? He felt enraged.

“He did what?” His mouth parted in surprise, brows pulling together as his shoulders squared up. Sure enough he could see a car parked right outside the door with the lights off, but someone visibly inside. Y/N parked close to the building and he must have known that. “Fuck, Sweets. M’sorry.” He groaned. “Absolutely not acceptable. M’gonna make sure Liam knows and that he’s dropped as a member here but of course I’ll walk you out. Are you almost done?” His hand reached for her shoulder to give an appreciative squeeze, bare skin meeting his palm. She wore a tank top with the gym’s logo and yoga pants, her name tag taken off already.

“Yeah- I just have to shut down the computers and sweep the front. Is that okay?” Her teeth chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry to keep you. I know you’ve had a long day and you have one tomorrow too, I just, I have a bad feeling and I’m scared. I wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t give me the creeps even before.”

Harry was vaguely familiar with the dude, mostly because he had snickered at Y/N’s polite attempt to tell him no to a date previously- but now, that wasn’t so funny. “Hey.” His thumb brushed over her skin. “Don’t apologize. I won’t hear it. Of course I’d do this for you, I care. I’d never let anyone be in danger, least of all you. You’re the best receptionist we’ve ever had and I’d be crushed if something happened to you. Everyone would.” Mostly him, though. His crush was real. However now wasn’t the time to deal with that.

“Thank you so much.” She sighed in relief, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “I’ll only be a minute, okay? Just stand right there.”

And he did. He watched as she shut down the computers and grabbed the little broom to sweep up the little bits around the front desk, thanking Harry when he brought the trash can out from the front desk for her to pour the dust pan into. Her thanks was gracious, grabbing her keys and nervously following behind him as he made his way out first.

It seemed that the man hadn’t expected Harry to still be there, as he had parked further back in the lot. The look of surprise made Harry irritated as he directly went to the car, knocking on the window. The man hesitantly rolled it down a little bit, Harry’s arm braced on the hood as he leaned down to speak to him.

“Absolutely unacceptable.” He said straight. “She said no. Dunno what or how that translates to ‘wait for her after work to crowd and stalk her like a creep’, but let me spell it out for you.” His voice dropped lower. “You’re going to stay away from her. She isn’t available, not for you. You’re going to listen when women tell you no, and leave it fucking be. Know she’s a pretty thing but that doesn’t give you the right to follow her around.”

“What are you? Her boyfriend?” The man sneered, making Harry’s jaw clench. Was he dense? Truly?

“S’not your business who I am to her. All you need to know is that she isn’t on the market, stalking is unattractive and if you don’t leave her the fuck alone, I swear to you that there will be consequences. I’d suggest finding another gym, mate.” He patted the top of his car before pulling back, finding Y/N standing by the glass doors, wringing her hands. The look of relief on her face as Harry approached and the guy’s car peeled out of the lot made his anger worth every bit.

“Told ‘em off.” Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he walked with her to her car and made sure she got her bag in. “Hey- let me follow you home, yeah? I’ll give you my number and you can text me if he bugs you again but I’d feel better knowing you got in safe and he isn’t out there waiting for you somewhere else.” He wouldn’t put it past an idiot like that.

“Normally I’d try to tell you no, but I can’t tell you how much that would mean to me.” Her body sagged in relief as she took him by surprise, taking him in for a hug. “Thank you so much. I was so scared he’d try to take me or something, I watch too much Criminal Minds or something but.” She shrugged, pulling back far too soon. It had taken him by surprise and he hadn’t had nearly enough time to appreciate her sweet smelling, warm body against his own.

“Anytime, Y/N. Seriously. Your safety is important to me.” More than she’s known. “Let’s get going, yeah? Know you had an emotional day.”

—-

Harry had driven her home, smiling and beeping once she had gotten inside her apartment building but waiting to drive off before he had gotten her little text of ‘ inside!!! :-)’

He spent the rest of the night trying to work away his anger, cooking a quick meal before heading off to bed. Y/N was too good for shit like that. He’d shot a text to Liam letting him know he told his client to fuck off and he’d help find another but was assured that it was a good loss anyways, which only helped ease him. The girl wouldn’t have to deal with it again.

He just hoped she would be okay.

—-

The next morning he was greeted by her smiling face, melting off the apprehension he had felt all morning. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with two loose tendrils around her face, looking as cute as ever as she waved at him.

“Hi, Harry!” She chirped. “I’ve got a smoothie with your name on it when you’re ready for it later. Thank you again for helping me last night.” His membership card was quickly scanned and handed back. Her smile was infectious, making his own rise on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’m glad to have helped. I’m here for anything y’need, Sweets.” If only she knew how far that could go for her. Maybe it was better she didn’t. He was really into her but he was hyper aware of how it could come off now, so he would proceed with caution. “I’ll hold you to the smoothie when m’on my lunch.”

For the first time in quite a while, Harry had a hard time concentrating on his sessions. Of course he poured himself into it as much as he could, but he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How shaken up Y/N had been and how she had been so appreciative. He couldn’t help it, because he’d already had a crush on her and the fact that she trusted him enough to come to him for help made him really happy. He was also still mad that the man had crossed such big boundary and genuinely scared the hell out of probably the sweetest girl anyone’s met.

Being in his own head also explained why said girl scared the shit out of him, making him jump as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Jumping from the stool, he turned to a wide eyed Y/N and tore the earbuds out of his ears with a very, very embarrassing yelp. “Shit! Y/N, you scared me.”

As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’m so sorry!” She peeped, hand over her mouth. “I said your name and I didn’t see you had in your earbuds. I’m so sorry.” Her babbling was very cute, but he didn’t want her to feel bad.

“It’s okay- just made me jump.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Shit, it’s my fault for sitting here with them on at work. You did nothing wrong.” His palm squeezed, making her shoulders relax just a bit. Thank god. There was no effort to remove it as he continued on, and no effort to step away from him. “Y’said something about a smoothie, yeah?”

His grin was probably a bit too big in regards to a smoothie but he hoped like hell that she would join him at the little tables they had set up. They were in the reception area, a bit public for his taste but considering what had happened last night he figured that was a better option than the break room. It was a delicate thing and he needed to go about it carefully. He really, really didn’t want to muck it up because his dick got ahead of his brain.

Although, she did look spectacular today, if he could say that.

“Yes! I was going to grab one too. What kind would you like?” One of the duties of the front desk people was to man the smoothie bar when needed. It wasn’t super demanding and the recipes were written out in a binder-

Harry would know because he’s had to do it before too- but she seemed to enjoy making them the times she’s done his. “I’m going for the Strawberry Sunrise and some energy boost.” Her hand squeezed his wrist before it was removed and she glided behind the bar, ponytail swaying as she did so.

“S’a good choice. Simple and effective.” He nodded in approval. “Think M’gonna go for… the chocolate peanut butter, if that’s alright?” His fingers drummed on the surface of the counter, slightly nervous habits showing when she was around. It was difficult to think. Even if he was this charming, charismatic, outgoing guy- he still got a bit flustered when talking to a pretty girl who was suspiciously angelic in looks and in appearance.

“Of course it’s okay.” Her laugh echoed in his ears. “I told you, it’s my way of saying thank you. Now sit and look pretty while I finish these.”

Harry was glad her back was turned because his face was most definitely flushed. Did she call him pretty? It seemed so. The man definitely didn’t go to the gym looking like a slob, but he had much better days outside of it. He liked to play around in fashion and the gym left little to experiment with unless he was okay with a sweat stain or ruining it. That’s why he wore cuter bandanas around his neck, or his stack of fabric bracelets that were meant to fall off. They were made of string and easily replaceable but they added color to his otherwise bland outfits he wore to keep from ruining his good outfits.

Apparently the last thing she had said was enough to keep him on his head until she finished, the large orange and white striped cup placed in front of him. “They’ve got to get rid of the styrofoam cups and do paper.”

Y/N sighed, looking at her own with a little frown. “I’ve suggested it but manager said we got to go through these before he’s gonna reorder. It’s only a few cents cheaper too, I was snooping on the order form.” She grumbled, making Harry smile. Y/N was known for her environmentalist tendencies and it only added to why he liked her. “Or, do like… have a bottle washing station and let us sell reusable cups with the gym logo and people can use those! Anything but these.” Leaning in closer to him, he caught her perfume as she let him in on a ‘secret’. “Plus, I fucking hate the sound of styrofoam. It makes my skin crawl. ASMR gone wrong.”

Harry swore he fell in love w little bit when she pulled back, laughing along with him as he nodded. She was fucking adorable and his hands itched to grab hold of that ponytail and keep her head still so he could kiss all over her face. Could you get cuteness aggression over another human?

“S’a great idea, actually.” He nodded, taking a sip with a hum. Y/N did the best smoothies. Shakes? He never was sure what to call them. “And you’re right. Styrofoam is awful for the environment and ears. I usually bring my water bottles every day but the amount of plastics we see here… S’a shame.”

“Exactly!” She slapped her hand on the counter. “It would only cost a little more to be more efficient. Do more water fountains so they don’t have to bring those plastic water bottles. Those are also on my hit list, when people crinkle those bottles…” her nose wrinkled in distaste, grabbing her cup and going around the counter. “Where did you want to sit, by the way?”

Harry’s heart grew three sizes, he thinks, when she was the one to initiate their time together. He’s been mulling it around in his mind, how to ask her to sit with him but apparently they were on the same page. “F’you want to sit out here we can, or we can go to the employee lounge. It’s your choice.”

“Do you mind if we go to the lounge? I had to talk to you about something, if you don’t mind.” It was then he could see her shifting nervously on her feet, cluing him in to something else. Was the guy still bothering her?

“Course we can. Lead the way.” He extended his hand, letting her lead as he tried to figure it out. Y/N was a somewhat nervous person by nature and he knew from watching her pick at her nails or bounce her leg, twirling her hair or rearranging pens often, but he didn’t like the idea of her nervous around him.

So when they sat down at one of the smaller tables in the empty lounge, he let his concerns be known. “Are you okay? You seem a little nervous.” He bumped his knee with hers, bringing the smoothie up to his mouth for a sip as he studied her face.

“Yeah! Yeah I just…” there was a pause, her nails dragging down the cup to make a pattern. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night. I felt really safe with you and I’m really grateful for your help- you’ve no idea. I was scared if end up in a ditch by the time anyone came in this morning but….”’her teeth worried her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else. You’re not always going to be here. And I know- I know the people here are very strong and bigger than me, most of them anyways- but I need a way to protect myself.” She took a big breath before the words rushed out. “Do you think you could help me with self defense? Even just a little bit, I can pay you or clean your house or something I just really….” Her frazzled expression broke his heart. “I don’t want to feel helpless again.”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That he would stay every night and walk her to his car, that he would take care of her but the truth remained that he couldn’t always guarantee that for her. Sometimes he had to leave early, sometimes he had to stay later than her and it was just not possible. What she asked was absolutely the right thing, but he hated that she felt helpless.

“Y/N.” He crooned. “Of course I will. It’s not even a question, I’d be more than willing to help you out.” She must really not know his crush on her if she couldn’t see how he was mentally tripping over himself at the idea of spending time with her. It would be a double win. She could help herself and he could spend time with her alone. “I want to say M’really fucking sorry that men are shit and that you even have to worry. If I’m here when you’re getting off of work, which I usually am, I’m more than happy to walk you to your car, but I understand.

I hate that you feel helpless. You’re a lot stronger than y’give yourself credit for.” His hand reached for the one laying on the table top, holding it a lot more confidently than he felt. She squeezed it back, though, so a win was a win! “We’ll have t’do it after hours, though, if that’s alright? Just stay a bit longer after work. My days are really full right now and I know you’re working most days here so it’ll have to be a weird schedule but you don’t need to pay me a cent. Let me do this for you for my own peace of mind, yeah?” His eyes searched her face, like he was trying to find an answer for a question he didn’t know. “Was worried out of my head last night about you.”’

Y/N seemed to visibly relax, a smile growing on her soft little lips and her entire energy moving to a warmer one. What he didn’t expect, though, was for her to throw herself into his lap for a big hug. Y/N had always been touchy, but he never thought he’d end up with a lap full of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen whispering her thanks as her face tucked into his neck.

God, he hoped he smelled decent.

His arm wrapped around her as he clumsily put his drink down in surprise, stroking her back as she squeezed him tight- and it was like a dream. Soft body against his own and engulfed in her scent? He was happy if she never moved from here. Unfortunately she did, peeling herself up and her beaming smile making him melt. “Thank you, thank you so fucking much. You can have anything you want in return. You don’t have to think of it kow but… I trust you the most here.” She admitted, clamoring back into her seat. “You’re the coolest, H. Thank you again. When can we start?”

Harry knew he was in trouble when he wanted to cancel the rest of his day and offer it to her. She’d sent him through a wind tunnel of wild thoughts and his body was still reeling from having her so close, but he had to try and hold it together.

“Why don’t we start tomorrow?” He offered. “But be prepared to work up a sweat.”

[nottswitch]

doll.

summary: you had finally convinced Tom to take you to the Restricted Section. however, the outcome might not be something you had originally planned.

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

warning: 18+ smut, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), throatfucking, gagging, mentions of nausea (no actual vomiting), slight choking, orgasm denial? ignoring?? I think that’s all, if I missed anything, let me know!

wc: 3.3k

a/n: listen. listen. this man has been in my head for the last month, and recently he decided to come into my dream? that’s just rude, so that’s what you get as revenge. this fic is also a result of my pent up frustration at life rn, so do with that what you will. also, this is my first time ever writing smut and writing for tom, so pls let me know if it’s any good and if I shall continue on the path. enjoy <3

You had finally done it.

You had finally convinced Tom to take you to the Restricted Section with him. After the whole month of begging almost every day, he agreed, albeit awfully begrudgingly, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. He told you some stuff about his late-night visits to the library from time to time, but you were always burning for more information, considering your own striving for knowledge. He always said the same thing, that he appreciated your effort, but if you could stop trying to make him abuse his Prefect’s power and possibly lose himself the position, it would make both of your lives easier. But you persevered and were finally reaping the rewards, sitting next to him at the table, with a stack of ancient books in front of you, sometime far after midnight.

What you didn’t expect, though, was how absolutely fucking irresistible he would look merely existing. The books were taken out, the first one was flipped through and now they sat on the table, long forgotten, as you just stared at Tom, almost devouring him with your eyes. To be fair, the sight of him was truly divine – his face calm and concentrated, hovering over a particular book he had been studying for the last week, distracted simply to switch to his journal and take another note. His hands resting on the table, holding a quill, scribbling down lines with his exquisite handwriting… They were sinful, those hands. You had to get ahold of at least one. His left hand was in the process of mindlessly caressing the corner of the book with his middle finger when your hand slowly creeped towards it. You lightly brushed your fingertips along the outer part of his hand. No reaction. You started drawing circles along the whole area, skimming along his wrist and thumb. Nothing. You decided to go further and began intertwining your fingers together.

Finally. A sigh.

And he didn’t even look. His hand grabbed yours and put it away, back on the table. And nothing, absolutely nothing changed about the focused expression painted on his face. That was really annoying, but also… hot, in a way? Almost as if he was playing hard to get. You were already aroused just by looking at him, but his silent rejection made you nearly desperate. Your panties were pretty much soaked, and he, quite literally, barely lifted a finger.

Before you could gain control over your hand, it moved dangerously close to his thigh. You put your hand a little above his knee and gradually advanced higher and higher up his leg. Only when you were caressing his inner thigh did you hear another sigh. Tom raised an eyebrow and turned his head a couple centimeters in your direction, his eyes still on the book.

“What?” he asked, the tone of his voice only ever so slightly irritated. His composure remained intact. He wasn’t even fazed by the fact that you were so close to grabbing him through his pants.

“You look so handsome like that, you know?”

You made your best attempt to lace your voice with saccharine seduction. Your hand kept stroking his inner thigh, inching further and further up with each stroke. The only thing he did was thoughtlessly nod, as if he forgot about your existence immediately after asking the question.

You started getting frustrated and even more turned on. You moved your chair closer to his and began caressing his shoulder, brushing your fingers along his neck when they reached it. You slowly moved down to his back and arm, your nails applying some pressure on his body so that he could feel them scratching his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. It had always been one of the rare things to grab his attention, and it worked this time as well. He sighed, closed the book with his finger between the right pages and turned his head to you. His expression was that of mild annoyance, his eyebrow raised again.

“What exactly was the reason you’d been begging me to bring you here? Would you care to remind me?”

You lowered your gaze and your hand on his shoulder stopped, but just for a second. Then you continued, thinking that there was no return at that point and at least you had a chance, now that his attention was on you.

“Knowledge,” you admitted.

“And what kind of knowledge are you trying to soak up right now?”

His eyes flicked towards your hand still massaging his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and shifted in your chair at the mention of the word “soak”. But it was time for drastic measures. You stood up to crouch next to him, so that your mouth was right at the same level as his ear. Your hand moved to his inner thigh again, traveling up to his crotch and back. You felt him harden under your touch and the mere fact brought you immense amounts of satisfaction.

“Come on, Tom, love, we both know what I want right now,” you started whispering, your lips nearly touching his ear. “You. I want you. On the table, on the floor, against the wall, it literally doesn’t matter. If you don’t take me right here, right now, I will die.”

The look on his face didn’t change in the slightest when he grabbed your throat with his right hand and guided you from his left to his front, tightly squeezed between him and the desk. You stayed in your half-crouched position, trying your hardest not to tremble in the knees. The corner of Tom’s mouth lifted ever so slightly while he silently studied your face and body. His grip on your throat tightened when he lifted up his hand, causing you to straighten your half-bent legs. He shot a commanding look at his lap and, guided by his hand, you climbed there, sitting down and sighing as you could finally relax your already aching knees. But your state of relaxation didn’t last, as he abruptly spread his legs, causing yours to shoot open as well and your ass to be left hanging in the air. In order not to fall to the ground, you had to lean back on the desk, propping your front upwards, towards him.

His hand moved from your throat to the hem of your skirt. With quick and methodic movements Tom rolled it up, tucking it behind the top part of the skirt, and spread your thighs even further with a firm press of his thumbs. You felt a heatwave of embarrassment wash over you as he evaluated the state of your panties, an amused smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. A spot of wetness was wonderfully visible and on display. His eyebrow went up and down as he looked up at you, brushing his thumb in a feather-like touch along the still covered surface of your cunt. You threw your head back, partly because you didn’t want to meet his eyes, partly because your own eyes rolled to the point you couldn’t see in front of you and you could barely hold in a moan as myriads of goosebumps spread throughout your body just from this simple touch.

“Look at me.”

Tom clearly didn’t appreciate the lack of eye contact. You clenched your jaw and looked back, met by the sheer intensity of his stare. The stare that had all the power in the world to melt you into a puddle at any given moment. He brushed his other thumb over the same place again, watching your face carefully as you tried to keep your composure. Didn’t help. Your bit your bottom lip, but a sound escaped you nonetheless. Tom’s smirk widened.

“Let’s see,” he quietly muttered, pulling your panties to the side. Your cunt was already slicked and throbbing, which was even more embarrassing, because he looked like he was an inspector evaluating the goods. The smirk faded from his lips as his finger rubbed against your folds, barely spreading them apart and not reaching the clit to provide the much-needed sensation. You couldn’t help throwing your head back again, almost drawing blood from the pressure of your teeth against your bottom lip.

“I said. Look. At. Me.”

Tom uttered every word in a clear, emotionless voice, but it was the very thing that meant trouble. You looked back and the intensity of his stare only grew exponentially. He reached your face with his hand and grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, squeezing them, so that your lips formed into some sort of a pout.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Keep looking until I say you can stop.”

You quickly nodded, intimidated by his frigid dominance. His hand went back to your cunt. He slid his fingers deeper between the folds, lightly brushing against the clit. Your hips jerked up as they tried to follow the path of his fingers, but his other hand held you firmly in place, not allowing a single extra bit of pleasure. He slid them back once more and then the middle one slipped inside you, up to the very base. A jolt of pleasure shook your body, as strong as the feeling of disappointment when he quickly removed the digit. You tried to whine but another look from him quickly shut you up. Tom raised his hand, rubbed his index, middle finger and thumb together and then separated; a sticky string of your wetness was a connection between them and a blatant manifestation of your arousal.

“Soaked. Just like I thought.”

The slightest hint of a smirk returned to his lips as his fingers reached your mouth.

“Open.”

Each of his words was stern, not leaving room for any disobedience. You opened your mouth and Tom pushed two fingers inside, pressing at the entrance of your throat and instantly making you gag. He kept his fingers there for a moment while you clutched the desk behind you to stop your body from shaking as you kept gagging, but not daring to push his hand away. A couple seconds later, when he saw you were on the verge of giving up, his fingers slowly traveled back out of your mouth. You tightly wrapped your lips around them and sucked your slick off, knowing that it was exactly what he wanted you to do. After leaving your mouth his fingers cupped your chin, as his thumb glided over your lips, covering them with the rest of your wetness.

“Now,” Tom leaned back on the chair, looking you up and down, his voice suddenly smooth and enticing, but his gaze still intense, “I see you are rather bored here with me, doll.”

When he said the word, you knew that the next part wouldn’t be so much for your pleasure as it would be completely for his. It wasn’t a meaningless pet-name for him, no, it held value. It meant that you would be treated exactly like a doll: mindless and limp. He saw your eyes widen at “doll” and a faint smirk was on his lips again: he was aware of the connotation and so were you.

“And to save you the trouble of a wandering mind, I am pleased to announce that I have a much better use for a doll like you.”

He waited to continue for a minute, letting you absorb the information and your thoughts fill with speculations. His hand brushed a stray hair from your forehead, him seeming just like a caring boyfriend for a moment.

“Kneel.”

You slowly stood up from his lap, feeling your stretched out limbs relax and almost fail to hold you up, and lowered down to your knees in front of him. From this point of view, he was even more attractive, compellingly so; it was worth it standing on your knees on the cold stone floor of the Restricted Section just for this sight alone. He slowly started unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, almost as if he wanted you to enjoy the show. You drank up every single movement of his slender fingers as he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough for his cock to bounce right out, against his lower abdomen.

“You like what you see, doll?”

You fervently nodded, your mouth salivating just at the thought of being able to suck him off right then. He saw the fire in your eyes and scoffed, shaking his head.

“It is no ordinary pleasure that I want from you now, doll.”

He beckoned you to move closer and you eagerly did, your face just mere centimeters away from his length. Your breath quickened as you thought about the implication of “no ordinary pleasure”.

“Now, give me your hands, doll.”

You lifted your hands and he wrapped his belt around them, tightening it to the point when it started to hurt and you knew it would leave deep marks on your wrists. Then, you tried to position yourself in a way that would allow your hands to support you, but you could only reach the floor with your fingertips.

Tom ran his fingers through your hair, in a touch almost gentle and soothing, and then suddenly yanked you up and forward, straight onto his cock, thrusting his whole length into your mouth, the tip reaching the very back of your throat. You lifted on your knees and violently gagged at the feeling, your hands inadvertently flying up, trying to push back, but the belt didn’t let you make any substantial impact. He held you firmly in place while you kept quivering and making gagging sounds, him clearly enjoying seeing you in this state. Slowly, you adjusted to his cock filling your whole mouth and your body went weak as you lowered back down, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You tried to look up with just your eyes, not being able to move your head; it hurt too much, so you lowered your gaze, the only thing in front of you being his lower abdomen. As you tried to shift in your place, you felt a whiff of the chilly library air against your soaked panties and the sensation drove you nearly through the roof.

“Now, doll, you have to stay like that while I keep going with my work. A fair warning out of the goodness of my heart: it might take a while.”

You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that this could continue for another hour or two. Your head was held back by the edge of the desk cutting into your nape, so you weren’t able to move at all. You were completely at his mercy, he could do literally whatever he wanted, but he chose not to do anything. As soon as he let go of your hair, he went straight back to his book, taking notes as if nothing had happened.

Time went by painfully slowly. The constant feeling of him in your mouth and throat overwhelmed you to the point when you started to twitch at times, shifting your weight to get any semblance of friction against your aching core. The position you were in didn’t allow that at all, your head being stuck firmly between the desk and his body. The most irritating thing about the whole ordeal was the fact that Tom ignored you completely, fully absorbed in whatever kind of studying he was doing. You tried to get his attention a couple of times by producing incoherent sounds and trying to tighten your lips around him, but you quickly understood that there was no use. You tried counting seconds and minutes, but your mind gave up when you reached fifteen. The only things you could think about were his cock and getting something, any type of pressure on your clit. Your wetness soaked through your panties and, you were pretty sure, was dripping down your thighs, creating a small puddle on the floor underneath you.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you finally heard the book shut. You almost shuddered at the sound, your pupils dilating and your breath accelerating, probably close to the speed of light. Tom leaned on the back of the chair, looking down at you with one of his smirks of the devil himself. His hand ruffled your hair, pulling at it to slightly lift your head up and shove it back down, as if he was trying to gauge if you were still alive. At the sound of your muffled groan he raised his eyebrows, amused.

“The doll has some life left in her. What a pleasant surprise. You look perfectly splendid like that.”

You groaned again, the sound coming from somewhere inside your chest. You desperately wanted to look up, but your head was still pressed in its place. Tom scoffed, messing with your hair once again.

“The time has come for some more… customary activities of ours, don’t you think?”

As if you could answer. You tried to nod, but the edge of the desk only further cut into your nape, making you wince in pain.

“The doll seems to agree. Pleasure.”

He moved the chair a bit further from the desk. With more space you could finally properly breath, so you shifted in your place, your stiff legs aching as you had to follow the movement of the chair. Tom’s hand gripped your hair and pulled you upwards, releasing almost the entirety of his length from your mouth apart from the tip. The sudden emptiness made your throat clench and you felt nausea building up rapidly, although the feeling had no time to develop as you were quickly shoved down again, your nose nearly crashing against his body. Tears gathered in your eyes sprayed all over, your lips stretched even more than they already were and you prayed the corners of your mouth wouldn’t crack. The tension building up in your core was begging to be released as you were being thrusted up and down again and again, the tip of his cock stroking the back of your throat again and again, causing you to produce the most sinful gagging sounds known to man. You tried to balance on your tied up hands, but your fingertips just barely brushed against the floor as your whole body moved in unison with your head. Tom barely made any sound, a heavy breath occasionally escaping his lips. He threw his head back, his eyes closed, while you took him whole at the mercy of his hand.

At last, you felt his thrusts speeding up, sensing his release. After a couple of especially violent ones he let out a quiet groan, and you felt his hot semen filling you up and spilling down your throat as he pressed you all the way down. Your breaths were heavy but barely audible, his cock still stuffing your mouth to the brim. Tom heaved a deep sigh as you felt his grip on your hair loosening. You didn’t dare to move until he pulled you up, lifting your head with his finger on your chin, looking straight into your eyes. Your vision was blurry from tears, more of them running down your face and dripping down to the floor as they slid off your jawline. Your lips were swollen and you couldn’t properly close your mouth yet, panting in quick and dry breaths. Tom smirked, taking in the sight of your utter destruction.

“A broken doll. Truly a sight to behold.”

He leaned back on the chair again, pulling up his underwear and zipping the pants. Then, he bent down, taking your hands gently in his and undoing the belt. His fingers made their way across the deep red marks on your wrists, caressing them with utmost attention.

“You have been a very good doll for me tonight. Now, what do you say to spending the night in my dorm? The doll has to receive her rightful reward.”

my masterlist

[starkeyisthelastname]

Okay buuut… not to be angsty about it but do pornstar!Rafe or reader ever have a moment where they’re just like “I can’t do this anymore” and they like try to not see each other but obviously that doesn’t work out… or probably last very long… I could see Rafe being emo about it and not being able to get it up for a scene and just walking off directly to your house all like “seriously what the fuck have you done to me!?”

okay so like I see this happening after their little talk, but Rafe is the one who says he can’t do it. 😭

Everything seemed good, the two of you even fucked again after smoking and talking briefly. The both of you left that the night with even stronger feelings which meant Rafe almost needed to step back for a minute. To you, it came out of nowhere and you felt rejected after reading the text he sent a few days after when you asked if he wanted to come over that night. ‘I need to focus on work rn. Agent told me I’m losing fans. Can’t do this anymore.”

It was clear Rafe was scared of something, and wasn’t going to tell you what it was. At least not right now anyway. As soon as you felt rejection, you became closed off. You didn’t even bother replying to his text, wiping the tears away over the fact you would probably be nothing more than a past fling to him. You wanted to hate yourself for falling for a guy, whose only focus was pussy and money.

For the first time when it came to a woman’s feelings, Rafe was feeling very guilty. He continued on with his week the best he could, trying to act like it didn’t bother him that he had called things off. After you left that night, he sat in his thoughts, thinking about if he really wanted to end his career for one girl he didn’t know much about. He knew the answer. He wanted you. Instead he came up with every excuse on why he should continue working, and before he could stop himself, he was sending you that message.

It was the next week when he showed up to set, pissed off at himself really, but taking it out on everyone else. You hadn’t texted him at all and he hadn’t tried to text back because a part of him felt like he had already fucked it up. He was affected by this more than he should be and for the first time, he didn’t want to film at all, not even try and fake it. As he stood trying to get himself hard, getting ready to shoot, he just couldn’t do it, which only pissed him off more. He knew he couldn’t continue his day like this without seeing you again.

You nearly cut yourself with the knife you had been using to chop vegetables when you heard the pounding on the door. You frowned, wiping your hands and quickly going to answer the door. You didn’t get two words in, before Rafe stormed in, wrapping a hand around your throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?” He asked, blue eyes dark.

“R-Rafe what the fuck you doing?” You asked, gasping for breath. You hadn’t spoken to him since you left his house a week ago, and hadn’t ever responded to his dick of a text. You couldn’t deny that you had missed his touch, even if it had only been a week, it still felt longer than that. You craved this man, no matter how much you disliked him right now.

Within a second, he was turning you around so that his front was pressed directly against your back. “Can’t even fuckin work, because you and this perfect cunt are on my mind 24/7.” He spat in your ear. Your head spun as he continued to squeeze your throat, his other hand lifting up the little dress you had on. He chuckled to himself as he noticed your lack of panties, making it all the more easier to slam himself into you, after quickly undoing his pants. His dick was now harder than ever, stretching you open for the first time in over a week.

“R-Rafe!” You cried, only to get three thick digits shoved in your mouth.

Rafe was ashamed of himself for even considering turning you away, he didn’t even want to look at you right now, wondering why you had to be so goddamn perfect and why he had to feel this way about some girl he didn’t even know. “Shut up. Don’t wanna hear shit from you now. Just take this fuckin dick like a good whore.” His tone low, dripping like venom in your ear, while you gagged on his hand. He fucked you like he hated you, but the truth was he couldn’t get enough of you. He had found his new addiction.

[jpitha]

They’ll eat what?

A Telmurian is walking around the promenade on the station, talking to their family on their pad.

What was that? Your signal is pretty weak. Oh! Yes, they have humans here.

I know. Their planet has a really big moon, they won’t stop telling everyone they meet. Yes, they told me about it at least three times. I saw the photos, it’s pretty big I guess.

Yes, they’re strong. I remember the time that human from the helm picked up two Sefigans and carried them around on his arms. I didn’t tell her, but I was impressed. Why didn’t I tell her? I don’t know.

They also have odd thought processes. Remember that story about the one that learned that the water filters were the same as the outer compensator on the FlashWarp drive? They still teach us to check other parts for commonalities like that. The Sefigans are building a whole reference of parts that can be exchanged for other parts.

They walk around, oblivious to everyone else on the promenade. A Gren glares at them, and clacks their mouthparts irritatedly. They are speaking loudly. They walk on, oblivious to the disruption they are causing.

I didn’t call you to talk about any of that stuff.

I just learned about their ‘food.’

Did you know they don’t have a specific food? They don’t have one or two or even three items that they consider food, they have hundreds.

Maybe even thousands.

They stop and stare out a window and are silent for a few moments.

Not only that, but they combine them in so many different ways. Even wilder, they have modifiers to their food. Can you believe it? They have things that aren’t technically food that they add to food to make it ‘taste’ different. They’re called spices or seasonings.

I know! Have you ever heard of such a thing?

They have this thing called ‘taste.’ It’s a whole sense for them! It’s what enables them to try and test foods and discover ones they like and reject ones they don’t like.

I have a hard time with it, to be honest. Imagine, food you don’t like. It’s food right? By its very definition it’s something you consume to survive.

They clack their wing covers together, like a sigh. A Sefigan sitting at a cafe near them makes a gesture, like they’re trying to shoo them away.

Not for the humans I guess. They have whole careers, whole philosophies, maybe even whole religions about food and its preperation.

I read about the first time some humans came onboard a Coalition ship. They asked where the kitchen was and when we said “the what” it was like you unplugged them. They just stood there with their mouths full of their scary sharp teeth open in surprise.

I imagine we had a similar face the first time they showed us a kitchen. Imagine, a whole room, a whole part of the ship that was turned over to their pursuit of food.

That’s another thing! They can get bored of food. Whoever heard of such a thing. It’s food! You eat it, you feel full, you continue with your day. That’s like… like being bored of breathing.

Have I tried any of it? I mean, so much of it is straight up poisonous to us. No, you’re right, some of it isn’t.

All right fine. Yes. I tried one. There was this one, it was something they called a cookie. It was made of something like ten ingredients all in very precise measurements, then mixed together and shaped into balls and cooked at a high temperature. How did they ever come up with that?

The cookie? I don’t know, it was fine I guess. I didn’t get sick. I guess I can’t taste like they can it wasn’t much of anything, just food. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings so I said I liked it. They gave me four more! I didn’t know what to do with them. They’re still in my room.

Okay, yes, I love you too. Tell the rest of the crèche I said good evening.

They disconnect the call and look up. There’s a group of humans sitting down at a human style cafe eating. One of them looks up at them. Their large wet eyes seem impossibly deep. In the corner of them, wetness wells.

“You didn’t like the cookies?”

[virginsexgod69]

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 

 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 

“No thanks.” 

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 

“With Glenn?” 

 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket. 

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 

 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 

 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 

“Eat this and keep quiet.”  

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 

 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 

 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 

“Yeah?” He grunted. 

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 

“Wha’ is it?” 

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 

  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 

“Better?” 

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 

 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 

“Lost track of time,” you explained. 

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 

"S'just w-warm in here." 

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 

 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 

 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.” 

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 

“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied. 

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 

 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

join the taglist?

masterlist

♱ Taglist ♱

@fuckedbydaryl @banquetwriter @eternalrose81

[miyamizuna]

Is it that sweet? I guess so~

Haikyuu boys as lyrics from "Espresso" by Sabrina Carpenter part 1 | part 2 ft. miya atsumu, kuroo tetsuro, semi eita

I can’t relate, to desperation (miya atsumu)

Being the MSBY social media manager means work- especially when it comes to Miya Atsumu. It seems like every other week he gets himself. caught up in controversy. Whether it be him being too touchy with an already-married older actress, or even being spotted on dates with multiple female idols. It’s your job to defend his already poor internet reputation. 

“Y/n~ c’mon now, one date is all I'm askin’! Throw me a bone here!” He pleads for the 5th time today. He was sure to be persistent after the many rejections before.

“Miya, how many times do I have to tell you no?” You sigh as you reject him once more to add onto the tally of 56 rejections over the course of a year. 

Sure he was attractive, what normal person would say no to a 6’1” professional volleyball player? Sadly you know firsthand about his player activities. You understand it though, a young early twenties male is bound to act like this. though the severity of actions vary on a case-to-case basis; he happens to be on the far end of the spectrum. 

“Besides, it’s unprofessional to have a relationship between the two of us. I’m your manager.” You explain to him hoping finally you’d be able to get the message through his thick skull.

“Professional or not, who cares! give me a chance to prove myself! C’mon I've been good recently, no contreveries!” He explains trying to persuade your thoughts.

“If you call being spotted with a married woman in a fancy restaurant ‘good behaviour’, I don’t know what to tell you.” You frown as you avert your eyes from him, back to your laptop, typing out a public apology for Atsumu’s recent events.

With a frown, he steps forward and closes your laptop whilst leaning over your desk. His figure obviously towering over your sitting self. 

“Enough of that, It wouldn’t be the same as those famous women who only want me to have an affair. It’s different with you.” He explains with sincerity as if this time he actually means what he says.

You look up at him with a smirk and now with crossing arms, leaning back on your office chair. “Oh really? Maybe when you give me an easier time with your little affairs, I’ll consider it.”

That's when his face lights up and puts on a stupid grin and leans in closer to your ear. i’m

 “Oh you bet.” He whispers seductively in your ear before pulling away and walking to the door of the office. 

“Well, see ya around Y/n, ya better hold up yer end of this.” He tells you before walking out of your office.

God this man. He's so… desperate for attention!

and I got this one boy, he won’t stop calling (kuroo tetsuro)

42 missed calls. Are you fucking kidding me? You had met this hot guy today at the cafe you work at, he was a tall man in a business suit, kind of built as you could see some of his triceps through the dress shirt, a really classy guy overall, though odd his hair didn’t match the aesthetic. You left your number on his cup just for the slight off chance he wasn’t in a relationship. Clearly, he’s not in one.

You decided to call him back, afterall you were busy with the cafe with the 8 hour shift you had just worked. Now lying on your stomach first, your leg hanging off the bed, you hit the call button.

“Hello?” a male voice says after only one ring. 

“Uhm, Hi. You left 42 calls on my phone.” You informed him as if he wasn’t already aware of what he did.

“Oh yeah, I did do that~” He teases through the phone. “So what’s your name, coffee girl?” 

“It’s L/N Y/N, and you?” You ask with a semi-interested tone returning the energy of his voice.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsuro. Y/n is a pretty name ya know” He flirts through the phone. 

You can just imagine his silly smirk, the same exact one as when he saw the cafe when he read your number, and then the “call me <3” written under it. 

“So I take it you’re not taken as you’re calling me” You suggest as you twirl your hair and kick your legs, god you feel like a teenage girl.

“Nah, I’m not taken. Haven’t really had a girlfriend before, closest was talking stages.” he explains you hear the ruffling of papers in the background. 

So that explains the 42 calls. Takes a man's guts to admit that.

“You don’t exactly know what you’re doing, don’t you~” You tease as you hear a sigh from the end of the phone.

“Well no- I do know what I’m doing! Just I wanted to get to know you- soon!” He fumbles words trying to explain himself which brings a laugh out of you.

“Suuuure…” 

There’s now a long awkward pause in the conversation. In which both of you don’t exactly know what to ask each other next.  

“Soo- Are you a full-time worker at that cafe?” He suddenly asks, speaking up to fill the silence.

“Well no, I’m still in college. I’m going there for an English degree. How about you? You seem like you got a pretty good job.” You explain, then follow up with a question about himself. 

“Well darling, I’m a sports promoter, specifically for volleyball. I work for the Japanese Volleyball Association.” He informs you with a proud tone. 

This does pique your interest, not every day do you meet a guy who works for a sporting association who happens to walk inside a hole-in-the-wall café.

“Well shit, that's cool! Did you play in high school or something?” You ask now, flipping over onto your back to a more comfortable position.

“I did- made it to nationals during my last year.” He answers with a cocky tone. There is more shuffling of papers in the background, maybe he’s still at work-

“Kuroo! We need the papers finalised by tonight!” A voice from the background of his end says with a very demanding tone. Causing him to groan into the phone.

“Well you certainly heard my boss…” He sighs. “Call you back cutie. We still need to finalise our date.” He tells you before hanging up the phone not even leaving time for you to respond to his statement.

“huh…? DATE?” You shout to the void that is your room. 

Man, this guy is confident. Both him personally, and you being too willing to give this man a chance. You know one thing though. You’re definitely going to come back to 42 calls again.

I'm working late bc I’m a singer (semi eita)

Oh, Semi Eita, the lead singer and guitarist of his little band. The foundation of what his band is about all stems from him. His rock style is unique, flashy if you call it. He always felt the need to stand out from others. You know that best as his significant other. Since high school, he’s always been a show-off or tried to be. Because of his show-off nature, he was benched on the volleyball team in his 3rd year. 

Now here he is, slumped over on his office desk at one in the damn morning, struggling to come up with meaning to his new song. 

“You know, Eita, This song must really got you stumped. You haven’t stayed up writing this late in forever.” You smirk leaning on the doorframe to his office. You both know that you’re right.

Eita usually has a set schedule; sleeps at 11 pm, unlike his teen days when he’ll pull all-nighters for fun. He sighs and turns his office chair around. 

“Well, I guess you can say that.” He replies as he tiredly smiles at you. 

You walk over to his desk, the wood planks creek in the silence of night, and lean over his shoulder to look at the song. 

“So what’s this song about?” You ask him while reading the lyrics. 

“A boy who fell in love with a girl and sees her with rose-tinted glasses.” He explains as he taps the pen on the paper every few seconds, clearly in thought.

“Well is she a good person, or a bad person.” You ask, sitting yourself at the corner of his desk. 

He sits at his desk long in thought. “That’s the thing. I don’t really know.” He admits and he runs a hand through his hair, the other hand twirling the pen around.

“Well when you think of this girl, who do you think of?” You ask him whilst  playing with the drawer of his desk that sits above you. 

as he sits there in thought, an idea suddenly pops into his head. There is one girl in particular that comes into his head.

“I think of you.” He lets out with a grin as he ruffles your hair, causing you to let put a laugh

“Me, huh? You really love me that much huh..?” You grin in response to his actions, with a proud tone of voice.

“I guess I do huh?” He smiles at your proud self. “I’ll write about you being the girl who I view in rose-tinted glasses,” He says as she writes down his ideas on the paper, making light scribble noises.

That's just when you get up and try dragging him away from the desk. 

“You know its bed time right?” You tease and you put him in a headlock and ruffle his hair.

“I’ll be there soon! Just, let me finish noting these ideas down!” He protests and he doesn’t look away from the page despite what you’re doing to him.

You sigh in response and let go of him. Walking to the door in the process. 

“Don’t stay up too late. We both know how grumpy you get without your beauty sleep.” You tell him in response to his protests. Finding a good opportunity to tease him in the process.

As you walk out of the room, all you can hear is a grumble in response. All for the fact he knows you’re right.

©miyamizuna 2024 do not repost

espresso is my spotify number 1 rn