#testing the waters nothing is set in stone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

byshens · 3 months ago

Text

jealousy ── park sunghoon x fem! reader smut + mdni

warnings jealous sunghoon, jealous sex, unprotected sex (dont!), choking, mentions of jake ( he’s like the center of the dirty talk ), fingering (f), breeding, petnames (baby, angel, princess), slight overstimulation. lmk if i missed any.

notes not sure if i was able to fix all the typos when editing the post, so if you see any pls ignore, i’ll find them eventually ..

requests are open! word count 1 , 893

“don’t go see jake again.” sunghoon grumbled against your shoulder. he wasnt very fond of your new friend—even though that’s all jake was to you, a friend.

“don’t be jealous, hoon.” you jokingly replied, patting his leg. you could feel him shift behind you, your back fully pressed against his chest. “i’m not jealous.”

his tone sounded jealous for sure to you. which made you giggle, “is jake really a threat to you?” you asked turning your head to face him, but when you locked eyes with sunghoon your body froze. his face was stone cold, his eyes darker than usual and his grip tightened against your hip.

he coldly laughed, “a threat? he’s not even worth being called a threat.” which you could agree, jake’s fun and all, but he’s nothing like sunghoon. no one could replace him in your heart and he knew that too, but just for the fun of it, you decided to make some comments.

“he’s cute, though. has the prettiest face.” you hummed, turning your head back to face away from sunghoon, a sly grin against your lips as you listened to him breathe in slowly. you’ve been waiting to see sunghoon riled up, and now was your chance.

when he didnt say anything to that comment, you provoked him more. “how do you feel about threesomes? he could definitely join us one time.” sunghoon knew you liked the idea of having a third for sex, even having rules set down if it ever happened, but something about the third being jake just made sunghoon’s skin crawl.

“bet jake wouldnt even be able to make you cum,” sunghoon finally spoke, his breath lingering on the back of your neck, kisses that were light as feathers being placed against your skin.

your lips parted as you tried to keep your breathing steady, you were finally cracking sunghoon. you just needed to keep pushing. “no you dont think so? i think he’d do well, bet he’s pretty in all places, not just his face.” you giggled. the noise of you being happy while talking about such things just kept ticking sunghoon off, not liking how intrigued you seem with this idea of jake.

sunghoon’s hand found itself traveling down from your hips to the edge of your shorts. your breath hitched as he pushed his hand inside the fabric of your underwear, his fingers moving down to slowly rub at your clit, watching your face as it filled with shock then small pleasure.

“i think i should make jake just watch us. make him watch how well i fuck you, how you moan my name so loud the neighbors get tired of us.” sunghoon seethed, his finger testing the waters and dipping itself inside your warmth, not too surprised at how wet you were already.

you let out a whine, so quiet that sunghoon would’ve missed it if he we wasnt so close to you. “you’d like that, wouldnt you?” he laughed, dipping another finger into you before he started to thrust them. your legs opening wider for him, allowing his fingers to reach deeper.

“hoon..” you breathed out, your head turning to face him again and he instantly took your lips against his, devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, his pace of his hand quickening which made you twitch against him, a moan escaping between the kiss.

i finally got him. you thought to yourself as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers, only causing him to pull them out. you pulled away from the kiss with a whine of protest at his action, only making him slap your thigh.

“let me show you what jake wont ever get.” he growled, throwing the blankets off the both of you and placing you in the middle of the bed. he took the hems of your shorts and underwear and pulled them down, taking them off you.

you watched his every move. the coldness in his eyes made your stomach flip, you knew sunghoon was a bit jealous sometimes, but seeing how it can play out was something new. you were snapped back to reality when you heard his belt, watching as he started to take off his own bottoms.

he tapped your thighs twice which let you know to spread your legs for him. once he slipped out of his own pants and boxers, he positioned himself before your entrance. you gasped, he never usually went right for it, he usually prepped you. “hoon wait..“ your voice breaking. before you could finish your sentence sunghoon was already pushing himself inside your heat.

“fuck,” he groaned, watching as his cock was sucked in by your walls. the wet noise your cunt was making drove him crazy, he knew he would never let jake get his for himself. this was all for him, only he could make you this wet and needy.

once he finally bottomed out, you thought he would be his usual gentle-ish self, but you were wrong. the second he bottomed out, he pulled right back out and slammed into you. this made your body jolt up, your hands scrambling to find his back. “sunghoon! wait—“ you pled, only to be cut off by a loud moan as he did it again.

his pace was fairly slow, but the roughness of his thrusts made your skin feel like its on fire. each pound into you got him deeper, his hands going down to force your legs to stay open, his nails getting into the skin on your thighs. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, watching as your face filled with pleasure.

“faster, please.” you begged. the slowness of his thrusts driving you insane, but sunghoon wasnt about to give you what you wanted, no. after you had teased him with those thoughts about jake? no he wasnt going to give in.

“take it how i give it to you,” he growled, though he did quicken his pace by just a bit, it wasnt as fast as you wanted, it was barely above the speed he was going beforehand. your mind was clouded with pleasure still, back arching off the bed with each time he slammed into your heat, only causing him to slide in deeper and hit all the spots you needed.

eventually sunghoon got tired of trying to keep that slow pace and when you finally seemed like you got used to his rhythm, he sped up. your eyes shot open again and dug your nails into his back. sunghoon’s hand going to wrap around your neck and squeeze down gently, pushing you back into the mattress as he pounded into you.

“fuck! please, please!” you cried out, watching sunghoon’s face fill with pleasure that only you could give him. his lips letting moans escape every few seconds. you knew he loved being inside you, how your pussy just seemed to fit perfectly for his cock.

“bet—bet jake cant fuck you like i can.” he grumbled, his speed picking up some more, ruthlessly tearing apart your warmth, the wet noises of your neediness filling the room. you loved this new side of sunghoon, your hand going to sit ontop of his that was wrapped around your neck, making him squeeze tighter around it.

“n—no he cant! only you can..” you moaned back at him through broken gasps, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, which messed up his rhythm a bit but neither of you complained. sunghoon leaned down to capture your lips into another kiss, his teeth nibbling at your lip to let him inside, which you happily gave in, letting his tongue force its way inside your mouth.

sunghoon pulled away from your mouth and let himself slip out of your cunt, which earned a whine as you suddenly felt empty. he flipped you over so now you were on your knees and pressed into the bed. sunghoon then forced himself back inside you, having you jump forward.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to keep you in place as he found his quick speed again, mumbling out curses everytime he hit the deepest parts of you he could, watching everytime how your ass would react to his hips snapping forward.

your mind was filled with how good he felt, how well he was treating you even though he was rough. a loud moan left your lips as you felt a smack on your ass, turning your head to try and see him, which was a bit hard due to your face being pushed into the pillows.

“you feel so good, fuck, princess.” sunghoon moaned, the praise going straight to your cunt which made you clench against his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before finding his pace again. “god, dont do that. i’ll cum too soon.” he said, his mind getting foggy as well.

“hoon—i’m close..” you moaned out, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, your legs slightly trembling at staying up. your fingers clawing into the sheets as he fucked you, needing some kind of support. “cum for me, baby.”

and you did. you came all over his cock, having it drip down your thigh as he fucked you through your release. but he wasnt done, he fastened his pace and held your hips as close as he could to his thrusts, “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer to his own climax.

“cum inside me, hoonie..” you desperately whined, all of the overstimulation hitting you at once, but you were too immersed in the pleasure to really care, the feeling of sunghoon hitting every right spot as your cunt was tightly wrapped around him made you feel fuzzy.

sunghoon’s hips stuttered at the request, he always loved filling you up, watching how you took his cum like it was an everyday task (which it kind of was). “i’m gonna fill you up, baby. make sure your walls are stained with me.” he growled, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat again, pulling you up to be against his chest.

he came with a loud moan of your name, his teeth sucking harshly on your neck as he filled you up. a satisfied moan leaving your lips as you felt yourself fill up with his cum, always loving how it felt to be claimed once again by him.

once sunghoon fucked himself off his high with your cunt, he gently placed you back against the bed, his thrusts slow to not overwhelm you again. “you did so well for me, princess.” his voice was soft now, full of love again as he kissed your temple, slowly pulling himself out.

he leaned back on his heels as he watched your cunt drip with his cum, the white color of his markings along with your beautiful skin was a sight he always enjoyed. he got off the bed to clean you up while you felt yourself drift off to sleep, feeling too tired to do anything else.

and when sunghoon was finished cleaning everything up, he laid back in bed with you and cuddled you close to his chest, his fingers brushing your hair as you snored softly, “goodnight, my angel.” he whispered before he also drifted off to sleep, holding you close.

notes lowkey wouldnt mind doing a part 2 with jake involved … but only if it’s requested 🫶. ty for reading !

#sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon hard thoughts #park sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #park sunghoon hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x you #enhypen smut #byshens 𝓌orks

509 notes · View notes

kayywaiii · 2 months ago

Text

15 Minutes ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

'but i can do a lot with 15 minutes ! !'

{peter parker x afab!reader (reader is a fan of spider-man!)} ₍^> . <^₎⟆

summary: after meeting for the first time a few months ago, you’re having a hard time keeping the webbed hero off your mind, even as you’re buried in work from school and the daily bugle. even though you’d both promised to take more breaks, you’d wondered if he was actually taking them as often as he’d said. when he shows up at your window one night, you’re given your answer in the form of a romantic picnic date.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: slight mentions of gore and blood, descriptions of scars + TOOTH ROTTINGG fluff, petnames (baby, sweetheart) tiny bit of spider-man angst [sorry :)]

authors note ! listening to short n' sweet deluxe and thought yk what... that would be a good fic (thank u ms. sabrina) lowkey lost inspiration at the end but then reminded myself i also had a lot of work to do and that gave me motivation to do this instead

hope u enjoy !! ;3

You’d been dedicated in the past, sure. Reaching the top spot in your stem classes wasn’t a faulty mistake, it was a product of pure hard work, and staying up late studying for a test had never been an issue. That was until tonight.

Notes flooded your small desk area, your laptop buried in the heaps of formulas coating the surface. You murmured to yourself, looking between your neatly organized folder of memos and the stack of notecards sprawled throughout. The juxtaposition undoubtedly left you even more overwhelmed as you tried your best to sort through it all. But it was nothing you couldn’t handle, after all, you’d graduated top of your class from Midtown High with an associates degree, what was college compared to that, right? Right?

A loud groan ripped from your throat, burying your head in your hands and finally regretting that celebratory outing you’d decided to treat yourself with the night prior. The noise only worsened your pounding headache and you chugged water from your Spider-Man themed mug to soothe your pain. You knew you should’ve refused immediately when Gwen first brought it up to the group– and you did attempt to–but when Gwen wanted something done, she usually got what she wanted. Joining your high school’s yearbook– which you totally loved–asking out your first boyfriend–who you totally hated– and even the choice of living off campus. Now you saw where that had gotten you, working at the Daily Bugle for just barely enough and even then you were cutting it close. You furrowed your brows, making a quick note: ‘Never Trust Gwen!!! (ever)’

There was a blame on your part, however, your ache to get out of your apartment was not completely caused by academic burnout and friendly persuasion. Veering off your calculated path seemed so unlike you, though it became more and more common everyday. You tapped your Spider-Man bobble figure that sat on your desk on the head, watching the toy bob up and down in somewhat agreement.

Against your better judgement, you’d ventured out into the brisk night to maybe catch a glimpse of the webbed hero once more.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

“That’s a lot of books.” He’d quipped, months ago, perched on the stone railing of your parent’s complex and stuffing his face with a deli sandwich like he’d been starved for weeks before. His mask, pushed up against the bridge of his nose revealed his face, scars littered across his rough skin. But his likeness, still round with youth and his lips still full with promises to be made. “You’re– young.” You deadpanned, unsettled, setting your pen down on the small garden table you’d sit with your notebooks. “Is… is Spider-Man supposed to be that young?”

“Not the first thing people usually ask when they meet me…” He’d chuckled and tilted his head. His green coat ruffled in his movement, patches of his logo stretching across the fabric.

“N..No? Then… Sorry– if it’s none of my business… but– how old are you?” You’d asked, bringing a hand to play with your sweater. While you did, you’d seen the red and blue shirt you wore underneath, his logo large in the center of your chest. A blush crossed your face, clearing your throat and pulling your sweater tighter over your front. Whether or not his smile widened because of the shirt or the question you didn’t know. It made it hard to meet the large eyes on his suit. “As much as I’d love to tell you that, any info about me gotta stay top secret. You know, top secret identity and all.” He’d put a finger over his mouth, tightening the lock and flicking the key. Courage sprouted deep in your stomach watching him speak so casually to you like you’d been friends for years before this. Or maybe it was the cool weather lowering your self consciousness. “Any info… except that you really like sandwiches, yeah?” You’d shyly retorted.

He let out a laugh, one that made him throw his head back and his shoulders shake. You didn’t know you could be funny like that, like throw your head back kind of funny. The rough yet melodic sound of his laughter made your cheeks heat up and you’d touched them in the cold, winter air. You’d made Spider-Man laugh.

“That secret, you’ll have to take to the grave.” He grinned, pulling his mask back over his face and tossing his sandwich bag into a nearby bin. He watched you for a moment, soft, relaxed breaths showing in labored puffs of white air. “S’little cold out to be studying, hm?” He hops down from the brick, coming closer to you on your garden bench. There’s dirt smudged on his suit, in his hair. Rips line the curve of his chest and down underneath his arm. It’s when he gets closer, studying your area that you notice the large bruise on his lower abdomen. “...Cold? It– helps me focus– and think.” You stumble over your words, managing to pry your eyes away from his injury long enough to finally meet his buggy eyes. They moved with curiosity, as he tilted his head and crouched down in front of you. “You’re blue, did you know that?” He still has his mask on, but you can see the fabric ripple with a smile. One that’s negotiated peace between neighbors and eased traffic. And he’d looked no older than 17. “You take breaks often?” He asks, his words softer, kinder, reminiscent of a concerned hero. He takes your fingers in his, his eyes focused on the hue of them. “Breaks?” You cleared your throat, turning your face to hide the pink that now spread across it. A chuckle escaped from his mouth.

“Yeah, breaks. It gets cold out here, mhm? You gotta take breaks– or you’ll… wear yourself out.” It was you now that chuckled, looking down at your joined hands. “Rich coming from you, Spider-Man.” He smiled at you, though his next words came out in a tired sigh. “Unfourtenly, sweetheart, Spider-Man doesn’t get breaks.”

“Everyone needs breaks.” You counter. His hand slips from yours and you shiver at the feeling. The webbed hero rises from his position in front of you, stretching and letting out a short scoff. “Then you should take them.” He flicks your nose before turning away and checking the large chunky web shooters on his wrist. “Okay. But I…only will if you will.” You get up from your seat, stepping closer to him. You internally groaned, cursing yourself out and listing out all the reasons why you should not get involved with Spider-Man. And number one on that list was your need to keep focus, to bring your eyes to the goal and let them stay there. No veering for you.

But when Spider-Man looks back at you, his eyes squinting with confusion, you can’t help but hope he’ll take the offer. You swallow, shrinking down from your confident stance. “I just…” You trail off, playing with your fingers. “...hate to see– someone I admire so much– suffering.” He lets out a laugh. You’d made him laugh again. “Is that so?” He turns towards you again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, then. We’ll promise.”

You tried so hard not to smile so hard at that, a tiny victory for you.

“30 minute break?” You ask.

“Mm-mm, 10.”

“10?” You furrow your brows.

“A lot can happen in 10 minutes, y’know. People could get hurt.” He comes to a stand directly in front of you, your eyes trained on anything but the rip in his suit. “Think of it this way, then. Pick a time for me, that way… you'll be helping someone.” You offer, pointing to yourself. Spider-Man scoffs, but looks away as if in thought. “15 minutes. That sound good?” He puts his hands on his hips, leaning in towards you and tilting his head. “We’ll work on it.” You smiled.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

It was easier 8 months ago, when you weren’t moved into a new apartment, surrounded by an overwhelming amount of new people and an even bigger amount of work. It was easier to take a break when you knew you hadn’t had that much to come back to. Now, you sighed, looking over the heaps of work you still had to complete, all alongside your shitty job too. Looking for the webbed hero every time you walked to work eased the turmoil curling deep in your stomach, at least for a bit before you were thrown back into the wolves. You knew he’d seen you too, when he’d swing past on your street more often, even helping you move your boxes up to your new complex that didn’t offer an elevator. You’d chat for a moment, inching closer to that line, the one you’d created in your head. The one that you both are shoved towards more and more with every glance, every chuckle, every touch gone far too long to constitute as casual. And then duty calls, ripping him away from you like picking flowers off a vine, your intimate, ‘just for us’ bubble suddenly burst. You’d take your 15 minute break every hour just to feel a little closer to him every time he had to run off, only for you to take 30 more later to patch him up after a rough fight. But you chased that feeling, the way his bloodied lips downturned in soft gratitude as you rubbed antiseptic on his wounds. The way he muttered a subtle thank you after you were done, like he didn’t know he didn’t need to, that you’d help him again and again if it meant he’d stay safe. Like he didn’t know you cared for him more than you’ve ever cared for anyone else.

A sudden knock at your fire escape window made you jump, knocking over your mug in the process. You cursed, trying to recover the now wet notes sticking to your desk. You called out to him, “One second!” while walking to the kitchen to rummage for paper towels and a first aid kit. When you finally found them and walked back, he was there again, clicking his knuckles against the glass in the same rhythm he’d done many times before.

You pushed open your window, grunting at the effort. He sat crouched on your fire escape, clinging to his torn backpack and letting out a blow of air.

“Hey.” Spider-Man leaned in, his mask pushed up onto his nose bridge. He squeezes a bouquet of flowers in his hands, petals falling from its stems. He sighs at the sight, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey. Slow day?” You smile, looking him over. No bruises, cuts or broken bones and you let out a breath of relief. “You’re not hurt…What are you doing here?”

“I’m on my break,” He replies, handing you the disheveled flowers. Your breath picks up in your chest and your smile widens as you realize what he’s said. “Your break?” You grin, leaning in through the threshold of your apartment window like his next words were just for you. He had been taking his breaks after all, as you had been. For some reason that made you blush even more.

You looked at the flowers in your hands, a seed of warmth sprouting deep within your stomach as you tried your best to thank him properly. “They’re… uh. It’s hard to keep flowers fully pristine when you’re swinging… so I’m sorry–”

“No, No… I love them.” You interrupt, clearing your throat and picking at your nails. Slight surprise crosses his features for a moment, but he lets out a chuckle, looking down and shaking his head. “My aunt says… that– I… uh, I’m not allowed to talk about you again unless… I take you out on a real date.” He explains, bringing a hand to play with the zipper on his green coat. He looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. He itched at it, a swallow bobbing in his throat.

“So– I… uhm, I brought us sandwiches.” He clears his throat. Your face heats up again but you can’t seem to look away to save yourself from embarrassment. He looked so good, even with his mask still settled firmly on his head.

“...You want to go on a date with me?” You mutter, smiling.

“Yeah…I’ll uh– only stay for the 15 minutes– but I just… really wanted to see you.” He admits, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips. “Is… that okay?” He mumbles, scratching under his mask.

“Yes. Ehem… I mean, yeah… of course.” You nod, choking over your words like you were still in middle school. When he climbs through your window and stands at his full height you're reminded to fix your own posture, your eyeline at his chin. His soft, tired eyes wander to your room, the posters littering your wall and to your desk, tucked neatly in the corner near your door leading to the kitchen. You blush at the mess, at the papers and notes scattered across your desk and floor. Photos you'd made him pose for shoved messily, half peeking out of your manilla folder, awaiting delivery to your boss at the Daily Bugle.

“Busy?” He grins, eyes drifting back to you. A chuckle left your lips, setting down the first aid kit on your desk and going to the kitchen to find a vase for your new flowers. When you return you can’t help but internally celebrate at the sight of him in your room. “A little. But I guess I can start my break now, Spider-Man.” His grin softens at that, bringing a hand to cup your face. He forces you to keep your gaze on him, unable to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “...Peter.” He speaks slowly, like he’s afraid something would happen once he spoke that name. You blink, eyes searching his in confusion. “...Sorry?”

“...It’s Peter,” He clears his throat. “Parker. Peter Parker.” It feels like the room’s closing in, your breath catching so low in your throat and your heart clenching up in surprise at the rare intimacy. “Peter…” You let the name drag out, feeling it on your lips. His name felt incredibly warm and a smile crossed your lips as you spoke it again. He watched them, clearing his throat, letting his hands drop from your cheeks, and shifting uncomfortably. Like the room was too hot. “I just… thought if we’re gonna… you know– you should… know my name.” He explained, your hands wandering. Your touch was soft, gentle, as you laced your fingers through his. “...So, sandwiches?” You grin.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

He stood in front of you, delicate focus in his lips as he lit candles around you. You lounged on your bed comforter–now on the floor– grapes from your kitchen in bowls in between you both. His eyebrows cinched in concentration as he laid out your sandwiches before you both and poured your favorite soda into your Spider-Man mug. He fixed his work, moving it back and forth and stepping back to inspect his work. “Peter… Come sit down, it’s perfect, I promise.” You assured, patting the spot next to you. “I know… I just–” You give him a look, tilting your head. He gives you a tight lipped grin, hands placed firmly on his hips. “Alright.”

“Are you nervous?” You raise an eyebrow, the smell of your candles wafting around the room. He watched you for a moment before tucking his lips in his mouth and shaking his head. “No… No, of course not.” He insisted, before bringing his eyes to yours. You hear his breath catch in his throat and you pray you don’t have something on your face. “Are you.?” He asks after a moment. You smile, looking at the array in front of you and shaking your head. “Why are you so jumpy, then?” You inquire, nudging his arm. He chuckles softly, catching your hand and playing with your rings.

“To be completely honest?” He sucks in a breath, face already red and a strong refusal to look at you. “I really want to kiss you tonight.” It’s your breath that hitches now, eyes looking over him like he’d take it back… like it was some sick joke. “You do?” You can’t help but crack a dorky smile. “We only have 15 minutes– we shouldn’t let our time go for nothing.” You hurriedly spit out, cringing in sheer embarrassment at your eagerness. He laughs as you cringe at yourself, a light layer of red on his face too. “You’re right. Wouldn't want to waste time.” He grinned, ripping off his mask and throwing it on your bed. And you’re met with pools of warm brown eyes blinking back at you, so big and still full of life. And his hair, so strikingly pretty. The curls you’d only ever seen poking out from under his disguise so defined and yet uneven like he’d cut them in his own bathroom mirror.

Your eyes snap back down, face heating up like you’d seen him completely naked. “Oh.” You spoke.

“Oh?” A smile crosses his face as he looks away. “I thought I was being jumpy tonight.” Peter teased, pulling a quiet laugh out of you. You find the courage to look back to his face, a soft dopey grin plastered on your lips as you take him in again. Small cuts scattered under his mask too and a cute tan line running from where’d he’d have it pushed up. You feel his rough hands slip right under your ear, cradling your neck and swiping his thumb lightly over your cheek. His touch feels so warm, like freshly dried laundry that you could just fall asleep in. “Is… it okay if I–”

Before he can even finish his sentence, you’d pressed your lips to his, hurriedly and messy. It’d only felt like a second before you’d pulled away, heart thumping like you’d just won an olympic race. Adrenaline and nervousness has you tapping your hands on your thighs and looking away from him. Instead you focus on your flower printed bed comforter, hoping he didn’t completely hate it. “Oh.” He laughs, eyes squinting in humility. “Oh?” You swallow, feeling all your worst wishes coming true. And then it hits you. “OH– oh! I’m so sorry… did… did you want to do it first?” He grins, nodding his head. “Ah!” You clenched your eyes shut, a quiet huff of amusement leaving your lips. “Okay, pretend it never happened. Go on, promise, won’t do it again.”

A beat goes by and a soft breath of laughter before his lips are on yours again, a soft groan leaving both your lips. It’s slower now, more candid as he tilts his head to slip his tongue past your lips. You grab his coat, bringing him closer as he grabs more handfuls of your hair. That flower of warmth sprouts once more, spreading throughout your body, up your arms and into your head, making you lightheaded. It feels like you’re about to pass out as he uses one hand to pull you over onto his lap. Peter pulls you impossibly close, lifting your head for better access as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck. Your hands leave his jacket, trailing from his chest up to his neck and then to the back of his head, fisting his brown curls and anything else you could find purchase on.

An alarm in the room went off somewhere, though you were too lost in the fog of your own beating heart to realize the sound. It’s only when he groans and pulls away is when you open your eyes, bringing your hand to brush where his lips had been. He’s checking his phone, eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry baby, break’s over.” Peter sighs, leading your face to his once more and pecking your lips. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back later, promise.” He grins, tugging his mask back on and you’re too dazed to do anything but nod.

You only come to once he’s swung away, looking at the array before you and blowing out candles one by one. You knew this was your life now, one of panicked kisses before he was whisked away again and one of bloody touches after a specifically brutal fight. One of date nights on roof tops and game nights cut short. A smile crossed your face, as you brought a hand to where his hands had touched your hair. But you also knew his promised 15 minutes would be the most cherished moment of your stressful days. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #marvel #xmen #tooth rotting fluff #peter parker my favorite white boy #marvel x reader #peter parker x you #spideman far from home #spiderman homecoming #spiderman fic #spiderman no way home

196 notes · View notes

bodybaggage · 9 months ago

Text

Oh, It’s On!

DP X DC

Ensue the prank war…

---

It all started with a simple question posed by Dick as he lounged on the Batcave’s most uncomfortable piece of furniture, which he affectionately called "the Bat-Stone."

“So, has anyone actually tested the limits of Danny’s ghost powers?”

Tim looked up from his laptop, always the first to take a bait. “You mean, besides the constant intangible phase he does to avoid Damian’s batarangs?”

Stephanie, who was tending to her bo-staff but was actually poking Cass with the end of it—grinned. “I’m in. If nothing else, we’ll get some decent entertainment. Better than watching Bruce brood in the dark.”

Cass, normally the least likely to engage in such activities, simply tilted her head with a curious look that might have been interpreted as a quiet agreement. She might not speak often, but Cass had developed a taste for subtle chaos.

Jason cracked his knuckles with a smirk. “Sounds like a good way to pass the time. And besides, I’m bored.”

Danny, floating into the room with a glow of mild suspicion, was not as oblivious as they might have hoped. “You guys aren’t planning anything, are you?”

Dick waved a hand dismissively. “Us? Plan something? Come on, Danny, we’re innocent.”

Danny gave him a deadpan stare. “That’s literally the opposite of what you are.”

The challenge was set, and everyone knew it. But Danny, being the ghostly trickster he was, didn’t wait to be pranked first. He struck with precision.

---

The first inkling that things were amiss came when the Batmobiles began moving on their own. Jason was the first to notice, his usual vehicle—a sleek, red tank of a motorcycle—had rolled up to him as if it were a loyal dog wanting to go for a walk.

“Alright, who’s messing with my ride?” Jason demanded, but the vehicle simply honked twice in response, the sound oddly cheerful.

“It’s not me!” Tim called from across the cave, where his own ride had begun circling him like a shark. “I swear, I’m not touching anything!”

Danny floated nearby, feigning innocence with an expression that screamed, I totally did this. “You sure your cars aren’t just excited to see you?”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “This is war, ghost boy.”

---

The Batcave, typically a place of stoic professionalism, had devolved into a battleground of pranks. Stephanie had rigged Danny’s usual hangout spot with a pop-up scarecrow (it looked suspiciously like Scarecrow, but with a clown wig) that would jump out at him whenever he tried to sit down.

The trap backfired spectacularly when Danny phased through the seat, sending the scarecrow careening into Cass, who simply caught it midair with one hand and set it down gently. Without saying a word, she gave Stephanie a look that said, ‘Nice try, but no.’

“Okay, point to Danny,” Stephanie conceded, wiping away tears of laughter.

In retaliation, Danny decided to step up his game. The next morning, Alfred calmly entered the Batcave with a tray of tea, his hair glowing an eternal green. Not a word about the change, not even a glance in the mirror—Alfred was far too professional for that.

Bruce, however, did notice. “Alfred, did you do something... different with your hair?”

Alfred, ever unflappable, set down the tea tray. “Just trying out a new look, Master Wayne. I believe it’s quite... refreshing.”

Bruce nodded slowly, not entirely sure if Alfred was joking. “It’s very... unique.”

Danny had to leave the room, barely containing his laughter. The dry humor had struck a chord, even with the ghost kid.

---

As the prank war escalated, it became harder to tell who was pranking who. Jason found his helmet filled with ectoplasm, while Tim’s gadgets began mysteriously glitching out, causing them to display random memes whenever he tried to access files.

Stephanie set up a system of water balloons throughout the cave, each strategically placed to drench whoever activated the trap. The grand finale was a large balloon precariously perched above the entrance, ready to douse the first unlucky victim.

Unfortunately for Damian, who had been staunchly standing next to Bruce to avoid any involvement in the chaos, his loyalty did not save him.

“I am not a part of this, Father,” Damian declared, stepping slightly closer to Bruce.

A soft ‘click’ echoed in the cave, followed by a loud splash as the massive water balloon above exploded, soaking Damian from head to toe.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damian, I thought you said you weren’t part of this.”

“I am not!” Damian insisted, dripping onto the Batcave floor. He glared at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him. “This was not intended for me.”

Danny appeared next to him, intangible and dry. “I guess the water balloon had other plans.”

Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and Dick burst into laughter, while Cass allowed herself a rare smile. Even Bruce couldn’t hold back the faintest twitch of his lips.

---

The chaos continued throughout the day, culminating in a final showdown where Danny—now fully embracing his role as master prankster—made every Bat-Suit in the Batcave walk out of their cases and perform the ‘Michael Jackson’s Thriller’ dance.

Bruce had walked in just in time to see his most serious suit do the moonwalk.

“That’s it,” Bruce declared, finally done with the madness. “No more pranks in the Batcave.”

But as he said it, his own suit’s visor flipped up to reveal a pair of glowing green eyes that winked at him before going dark.

Danny’s laugh echoed through the cave. “You’re gonna have to catch me first, Bats!”

Bruce sighed again, mentally preparing himself for the next round. It seemed that in the Batcave, chaos would always have a ghostly signature.

#dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc

524 notes · View notes

vunblr · 4 months ago

Text

A Hand in the Dark (#1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Hurt/Comfort. Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Suicidal thoughts (neither Bucky nor Reader). Canon-Typical Violence.

Summary: In a brief moment of lucidity, Soldat makes a choice. And some choices echo across time, shaping the future in ways no one could predict.

Word Count: 2.6.k.

notes: More tags will be added in the future.

Somewhere in the 50s

She walked along the edge of a cliff, painting a dark curve against the greyish stones below. Her steps were measured, as was the soft crunch of her heels against the dirt, nearly swallowed by the distant crash of waves against rocks and sand. She reached a cluster of tamarisks swaying in the wind and slowed her pace, unaware that just beyond the low brush, hidden in the shadows where stone meets sand, lurked something -someone- watching.

Soldat was still as the grave, crouched while carefully working free a sliver of debris from the intricate servos of his metal palm. He should ask for gloves next time. Not that he had the right to ask, but still.

He was waiting for an extraction, new orders, and something else he couldn’t remember well. His senses were sharpened to notice even the slightest movement in the dark. So when he heard footsteps nearing his position, his body reacted before his mind did, and his hand went without hesitation to one of his weapons, narrowing his gaze.

Then the moon, free from the grasp of passing clouds, bathed the landscape in pale light. The woman wasn’t looking at him.

She was close now, near the very edge of the cliff, and her eyes cast toward the endless stretch of water before her. Without hesitation, she lowered herself down, letting her legs dangle dangerously over the precipice, curling her fingers over the stone as if testing its strength. She exhaled, slow and deep as if the weight of the night itself rested on her shoulders.

The Soldat watched, tense.

A no-witnesses order has been ingrained in his brain, a silent rule that dictated every interaction -or lack thereof- with strangers. He was to remain unseen, but this woman… she hadn’t even acknowledged his presence. She didn’t scan her surroundings. She wasn’t looking for anyone. She simply was there, existing in the same space as him but entirely unaware.

So he stared.

It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, really.

For a long while, she didn’t move beyond the occasional tilt of her head, or the slow rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed in the salty air. Then, with resolve, she stood. The moonlight caught in the strands of her hair as she reached up and pulled out the pins holding it in place. One by one, they slipped from her fingers and disappeared into the earth at her feet. The scarf wrapped around her head came next, caught instantly by the wind and carried away into the night. He tracked its movement for a moment before his gaze snapped back to her.

She removed her shoes, letting them drop carelessly to the side.

Then, she looked down. Just for a moment.

Her hands went to the small buttons of her polka-dotted dress, undoing them with deliberate slowness. One after the other, until she reached the last. Then, with the same eerie calm, she reached for the hem, lifting the fabric inch by inch to pull it over her head.

The Soldat furrowed his brow.

His brain could be fried, scrambled, conditioned beyond repair, but even he understood this was no place to dive.

Not unless your intention was to snap your neck against the jagged rocks waiting at the foot of the cliff.

Once in nothing but her baby-blue cotton underwear, she kneeled, folding the dress with care.

She swallowed. Her hands rested on her folded dress, brushing her fingers over the little watch she had set beside it. It ticked on, indifferent, as if time itself did not care that she had run out of options.

How did she end up here?

She was to be married. Not by choice, of course, her choices had never truly been hers to make. The arrangement had been finalized in the sitting room of her childhood home, discussed over brandy and cigars, her father’s laughter booming as if he had won something. She had sat still, hands folded in her lap, pretending not to notice how tightly her mother gripped the armrest of her chair.

She had heard the whispers before, the rumors of what happened to his first wife. How she had become frail, withdrawn. How she had fallen down the stairs one evening and never gotten back up.

Her protests had been ignored. Her fears dismissed. This is how things are, darling, her mother had said. You’ll be taken care of. You’ll have a home, security. You’ll want for nothing. But she already wanted for something. She wanted out.

She had tried. She had run. But a woman alone in the world was a woman without a home, without money, without safety. She could not sign a lease. She could not open a bank account. There were no jobs that would pay her enough to keep herself afloat. The doors had been locked before she even reached them.

And now, she was here.

Her bare toes curled against the cold stone of the cliff’s edge. The wind tugged at her, inviting her forward.

Behind her, unseen in the shadows, the Soldat exhaled slowly through his nose, flexing his grip against the ground.

This was not a place to dive.

A sob.

And then another.

Her shoulders trembled, as her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as if struggling to hold herself together. The sound was raw, torn from somewhere deep, a kind of grief that had no audience and expected no comfort.

Oh.

So that is what this is.

Soldat recognized it instantly. He had toyed with the concept more times than he would like to admit, or so he thought. He wasn’t sure. His mind was a fractured thing, full of gaps and half-formed memories, but this felt familiar.

Wanting to end it.

Wanting it to end.

His body, however, had never cooperated. His hands had never moved to the handle of the gun, the blade of the knife had never pressed near his pulse point, even when the desire burned hot and frantic in his chest. Even when he swore he would, swore he could. Something always stopped him. Some command buried deep in his brain, some instinct woven into his very bones.

But this woman?

She was free.

She could just-

Another broken sob, and his brow knitted.

Something about her despair unsettled him.

He did not understand why.

Or maybe he did.

He had once cared. He was supposed to care. It was buried somewhere deep in his mind, under layers of orders and conditioning, but it was there, flickering like a dying ember in the hollow of his chest.

Silent as a shadow, he pushed through the brush, weaving between stone and sand. The movements were precise, automatic, a predator closing in, but for what purpose, he wasn’t sure. He only knew he had to get closer.

Then, as if sensing something, she turned. The wind caught in her hair as she met his gaze, her face illuminated by the silver glow of the moon.

Dark, disheveled strands of his own hair kissed the edges of his vision, brushing against the shoulders of his dirtied tactical vest. He knew what she saw, a ghost of war, dressed in black and steel, and tired, vacant eyes staring out from above a mask that concealed the rest of his face.

They looked at each other in silence.

Somehow, her lack of reaction surprised him. No scream, no flinch, no frantic scrambling to get away.

Then again, she had nothing left to lose.

Before he could stop himself, the words tore from his throat.

"Ne prygay."

It came out rough, rasped from vocal cords that had little use for him besides screaming in the last years.

She tilted her head, not understanding the words, but recognizing the language.

And then, to his bewilderment, she chuckled.

A small, cynical laugh, breathless and edged with something bitter.

“A commie?” she mused, as the amusement curled faintly at the corner of her lips. "Look, buddy, I don't understand what you are saying, and I don't have anything useful for you to say, so..." Her words were light, almost careless, as if she were waving him off.

Soldat narrowed his eyes, watching her closely.

Then, he took a step forward.

The shift was subtle, but immediate. The momentary sense of detachment she had wrapped around herself -the numbness that had made this night feel inevitable- cracked.

He was close enough now that she could see him properly, the way his shoulders tensed, and how his hand twitched as if caught between action and restraint. The wind pulled at his hair, displaying the sleek black mask that covered the lower half of his face, clinging to the sharp planes of his jaw, molding to the contours of his face with ruthless precision, letting only his eyes on display, clear blue, watchful, and impossible to decipher.

Then, her gaze dropped, and she stilled.

His left arm wasn’t flesh. It gleamed dully under the moonlight, the metal catching on every shift of his stance. Not a crude prosthetic, not something meant to mimic a lost limb. This was sleek, seamless, and impossibly advanced. She had never seen anything like it. Soviet tech, maybe? A secret buried behind the Iron Curtain?

For the first time since she had stepped onto the cliff’s edge, she felt something other than resignation.

Uncertainty. He fucking disrupted her state of mind and now, she wasn’t sure anymore.

She had nowhere to go. No home, no future, no escape from the fate laid out before her. And now, the only choices she had were the rocks and the sand below, or be caught by this russian spy with haunted eyes and a voice like rusted metal. This ghost who had emerged from the shadows, stepping toward her with God knows what intentions.

"D-Don't come closer. I told you, I don't have anything useful to say to you," she pleaded, her voice was shaking now, a tremor that hadn’t been there before.

He wanted to say more, wanted to force her to stop, but the words tangled in his mind, slipping between languages that didn’t fit together. Russian. English. Commands. Ghosts of things he had been told to say, taught to repeat. None of them were right.

So he did the only thing that made sense.

He stepped forward.

She shifted at his advance tensing her body and suddenly, her feet slipped, and the gravity claimed her.

Well, it was her first intention, after all. A little less sophisticated than she had planned? Yes. More dramatic? Sure.

The wind tore past her as the world tilted before her eyes. The jagged rocks below rose to meet her, and she came to realize that this was it.

Then-

A blur of silvered motion, faster than thought, faster than she could react. The commie.

He threw himself after her, cutting through the air with unnatural force.

She barely had time to register the impact of his arms wrapping around her before he twisted their bodies midair, moving like a goddamn cat- no, like something deadlier, something trained to survive at any cost.

He turned, forcing himself beneath her just as they crashed onto the unforgiving rocks below.

----

The first thing she felt was warmth.

A slow, creeping heat pressed against her cheek, coaxing her out of unconsciousness. Then came the sound, seagulls, shrill and relentless as their cries cut through the rhythm of the waves.

She blinked. Slowly.

The sky above her was too blue, the kind of blue that felt almost offensive when everything else in her life had gone so dark.

Her body ached, a dull, insistent pain radiating from her limbs, but nothing sharp, nothing unbearable. Her skin stung in some places, scraped raw by the rocks and sand, but she could still move. Nothing felt broken. Everything was in its place.

She exhaled shakily and pushed herself up onto her elbows.

What was she doing there?

Then, it all came back to her.

The engagement.

Her decision.

The cliff.

And… -her stomach twisted- the russian spy.

Had that been real?

She had downed nearly an entire bottle of brandy before coming out here. Maybe her mind had conjured something -someone- to stop her, some absurd figment of a guilty conscience. Maybe she had slipped and somehow survived, waking up in the aftermath of a drunken, failed escape.

But then she saw it.

Blood.

Plenty of it.

Dark smears soaked into the rocky surface a few feet away, stark against the pale stone.

She inhaled sharply, touching herself. Not mine.

Slowly, carefully, she shifted onto her knees, before pushing up to her feet. The sand clung to her bare skin, and she could see a hint of her dress still where she had left it, impossibly out of place in the scene around her.

And then-

Something gleamed beside her in the sunlight.

A piece of metal plate, half-buried in the sand.

She reached for it without thinking, brushing her fingers over its surface. Slick. Warm. Bloodstained.

Stainless steel? Titanium?

A piece of him. She didn’t made him up after all.

----

Present

The night was cold, the kind of damp chill that crept under clothes and clung to skin. The drizzle had started just as she stepped off the bus, little droplets of rain prickling her skin, an irritating, persistent drizzle that only made the ache in her feet worse.

Perfect. Just perfect.

She sighed, tucking her hands into her pockets, quickening her pace.

She should have taken the longer route. The safer route. But her feet ached from standing all day at the bookstore, and the exhaustion -and hunger- had won over common sense. She turned down the side street, cutting through the narrow alley beside her building as her mind drifted to her imaginary dinner.

Then she stumbled.

Her toe caught on something solid, and before she could react, she was sprawling forward with a sharp gasp, scraping her hands against wet pavement.

Not something. Someone.

She sat up quickly, her heart pounding, turning toward the dark shape on the ground. A man, half-curled on his side, motionless.

It wasn’t uncommon these days to find people slumped against walls, barely conscious, victims of a world that had only gotten harsher. A decade ago, she would have gasped and called for help immediately. Now?

She hesitated.

She should still call an ambulance. Should, at the very least, check if the poor bastard was alive. With a sigh, she squatted near his head, reaching out to check his pulse, gripping her phone in her other hand, ready to dial.

But as she reached for the man, she noticed that something was… off.

She looked closer.

Jaded combat gear. A tactical vest that was stained darker in some places. The matted hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and grime.

And then she saw it.

The dim glow of a streetlamp caught on something metallic, a steely glint that sent a jolt through her chest. His sleeve had torn at the seam, exposing a forearm that wasn’t flesh.

Her stomach dropped.

She had seen that arm before. Recently, in grainy, shaky news footage filmed from above as three helicarriers plunged into the Potomac. And if her suspicion was right… she had a piece of that very arm tucked away inside an old floral pouch in her closet.

A chill that had nothing to do with the rain ran down her spine.

But instead of walking away or calling the authorities, she reached out, hesitating only for a second before pressing her fingers lightly to his throat, searching for a pulse.

Warm skin. A steady, sluggish beat beneath her fingertips.

He was alive. Hurt. Unconscious. Vulnerable.

Dangerous.

----

"Did I ever tell you about the time I met a commie spy, dear?"

"Yes, Granny. A couple of times now," she answered, adjusting the pillows on the hospital bed.

"I meant it when I said he gave me a second chance, darling. So when I'm gone-"

"Don’t say things like that."

"Don’t be dramatic now, I didn’t raise you like that." Her grandmother’s voice was firm but warm. "When I’m gone, I want you to look in the second drawer of the kitchen. Pull everything out past the rails. There’s a crocheted pouch there, with a sunflower. I want you to have it, darling. Don’t let them throw it away."

Next Chapter

dividers by: @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky hurt/comfort #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier fanfiction

303 notes · View notes

harzilla · 7 months ago

Text

So I got two asks related to the lost sibling AU and I decided to put them together. Nothing is set in stone in this AU.

In the famous words of Bartok the bat, Can only end in tears!

If we're talking the bioparents/bio family then a lot of them are shocked, thrilled, even in tears. The reactions vary depending on the family.

🌹Riddle struggles with actually telling his mother. His relationship with his mother is extremely complicated. He just had his entire world view turned upside down and coming to realize his mother has been abusive, and on top of that he finds out that he nearly killed his twin. It takes a long time for Riddle to finally tell his mother and Yuu's there to support him. The two hold hands as Riddle reveals the truth to their mother along with the DNA test that proves they're a match. Riddle's mother immediately going with the idea of Yuu moving back home and learning to be a proper Roseheart. Maybe even hating Yuu's adopted family and thinking they kidnapped Yuu. It's just snowballs into this huge fight between Riddle, Yuu, and their mother. It takes a long, long time before the relationship between parent and children is repaired.

🦁 The second ask specifically talks about Leona's family. While I think it was never stated if Farena was there(but let's just say he was), we know Cheka was. Cheka is, absolutely thrilled. "Who's this? You're a lion beastman too? Are you from the sunset savannah? You look a lot like Papa and Unca!" Leona pulling him off Yuu and grumbling at Cheka for overwhelming them. When Farena finds out he almost charges into the infirmary but Leona keeps him out. Yuu's been through enough already, they don't need to be dealing with Farena too. It isn't until Cloud Calling that Leona FINALLY introduced Yuu to his family in person and only because Yuu asks him to. He has no interest in dragging Yuu into the royal mess of his life and he's willing to ignore summons from his brother to do it. Farena's thrilled of course but Yuu's not exactly happy seeing the way Leona has been treated by the people he should be able to trust. Leona actually has to reel Yuu back from their anger towards Farena, Kifaji, and everybody else. Farena's feelings are mixed but he's happy to realize that Leona has somebody who genuinely sees him for himself. He realizes Leona's closer to Yuu in the short time he's known them, then he is to Farena.

Oh man. So I headcanon, at least in this AU, that mer mamas are fiercely protective of their kids and bigger then their male counterparts. I think Azul's mama and the twin's mama would both show up at the school because, hell or high water they are going to meet their long lost child! No noisy crowman is gonna stop them!

🦈🐬 The twins mama in particular is downright scary. Imagine this really tall lady showing up at NRC. She's really nice to the kids but when she meets Crowley she gets that look on her face and tone and ohh yes, now you realize that she's far more scary then the twins if she wants to be. She squeezes the twins excited to see them but they absolutely have to bring her to Yuu. I see it like when Sophie and her mom are reunited in Howl's moving castle. Excitedly yelling "my baby!" While practically tackling Yuu, crying her eyes out. Holding Yuu's face and bombarding them with questions. Were you taken care of? You look so small! Were you being fed enough? Do we need to send you an allowance? These clothes look dreadful we must get you a new wardrobe. Worried Mama mode activated. Mama bought ready to drag Yuu home but compromises by Yuu coming home during spring break. At least it gives them time to prepare Yuu's room.

🐍 Now, Jamil's family is probably the only ones who actually don't know. Jamil is willing to bury the fact that Yuu is his sibling because, he realizes that if he tells the truth, he's potentially locking Yuu into a lifetime of servitude. There's only a few people on campus who know the truth. Kalim absolutely knows but he promised Jamil he wouldn't reveal it, but it's like how he was willing to fight against Jade's UM because his conviction to keeping Jamil's UM hidden is that strong. Kalim would love to see the two being siblings openly, but he still tries in his own Kalim way

👑 Ohh, this one's interesting. So we know zero things about Vil's mother. So, in this AU, Vil's father Eric used a surrogate. The thing is, the surrogate hid the fact she was pregnant with twins(listen if Lilia can just find a baby and people are chill with it then we can headcanon how adoption and surrogacy works in Twst). Carefully orchestrating it so Eric only knew about one baby. Thus when the twins were born she handed over Vil and disappeared with Yuu. Nobody can track down this woman or the other baby. Eric and Vil never even knew another baby existed. So, imagine Eric's surprise when Vil calls him after book 6 asking if his father knew about a second child. Yuu finally getting to meet Eric in person, and he apologized to Yuu because he didn't get to see them grow up. Eric asking Yuu if it's okay for him to be part of their life. Probably one of the few times Vil has seen his father cry and possibly vice versa.

💀 Cue another excited mama. Oh Idia wants to not involve Yuu in the mess that is the Shroud family curse. But kind of hard, when their hair ignited into the signature shroud flaming hair during Idia's overblot in the middle of S.T.Y.X. She's so absolutely excited that she's trying to ask Yuu 100 different questions, you mean to tell me the Shroud curse didn't developed in Yuu until almost adulthood? Mama is very interested to know about Yuu and their life. Idia almost pities Yuu and Ortho's so excited because his family is all together again! Papa Shroud is much calmer at least.

🐉 Oh I've delved a lot into Malleus and Yuu. I was actually thinking what if... during book 7 when they're in the memories and meet Maleanor. What if she orders everybody to leave except for Yuu. Yuu's so confused because this woman before them feels so familiar, they just watched her nearly strike everybody down with lighting while she yelled at them but the vibe is completely different now. Maleanor being surprisingly gentle with Yuu. Through whatever magic it may be, Maleanor can tell. Yuu crying because Maleanor calls them her precious hatchling and tells them how much they've grown. It's after Malleus' overblot that Yuu finally gets to meet Maleficia. Maleficia who says that Yuu truly looks so much like Revern. Maleficia who welcomes Yuu home.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland au #lost sibling au #yuu twisted wonderland #book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #floyd leech #jade leech #jamil viper #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #anon ask

313 notes · View notes

cabotwife · 2 months ago

Note

omgggg feeding us with johanna delusionss, thank you 🙏

could i request a fic set in the 75th games where reader falls off the spinning clock. some angst, hurt/comfort all that good stuff 🙏🙏

ur a savior frrrr❤️❤️

Wait For Me

johanna mason x fem!reader

warnings: poorly written in a rush while hiding in the bathroom at work.

word count: 1023

a/n: sorry abt not posting yesterday, life got busy..

the world tilts.

at first, it’s subtle, the sea leans too far to the left, your balance shifts, your foot slips. the rocks beneath you, slick with mist and heat and blood, betray your weight. you reach out—nothing but air. then your back hits the water, hard.

you don’t scream. there’s no time for that. you hit, sink, and thrash. the salt stings like acid in your eyes, and for a moment, you don’t know which way is up.

the arena is spinning. that cursed mechanical hellscape of a jungle, built to make you dizzy, make you weak. and it works. it works too well.

you drag yourself up the side of the rock ring, fingernails clawing at grooves in the stone. but your shoulder’s wrecked—dislocated or something close to it—and your leg won’t take weight. you collapse halfway up, breath hissing through your teeth.

no one is coming for you.

the sky above is false blue. jungle trees blur past like a child’s toy spun too hard.

you’re not sure how long you lie there. time is warped in this place, measured in mutts and cannon fire. you drift in and out, the pain making it hard to think. you hear footsteps at some point—fast, angry. then a voice, sharp and low.

“oh, for fuck’s sake.”

you blink. through the haze, through sweat and grime and pain, you see her. mud smeared up her arms, axe in one hand, eyes wide with fury. not fear. fury.

she drops to her knees beside you, so fast you barely register it. “what the hell happened?”

you try to talk, but your throat’s sandpaper.

“i fell,” you manage, voice hoarse.

“no shit,” she snaps, but softer this time. her hand brushes your hair back, trembling.

you want to tell her to go, that you’ll slow her down. but you don’t. because you’re selfish. because Johanna is here.

she presses a hand to your ribs, tests your leg, eyes flaring at the way you flinch.

“you’re not dying,” she says, as if daring you to argue. “but you’re not walking either.”

“i’ll crawl,” you mutter. half joke, half pleading.

“shut up.” she leans closer, voice low. “you really think i'm leaving you behind? you’re mine. you're all i’ve got.”

the anger’s not at you, you know it never was. it's at the capitol. at the games. at everything that makes her watch the person she loves bleed out on wet stone.

she lifts you, carefully, arms under your back and knees. you bite down on a scream. her jaw clenches.

“you’re heavier than you look,” she mutters.

“gee, thanks,” you whisper, and her mouth twitches. almost a smile.

almost.

she starts moving, step by step through the wet rocks, holding you like you’re made of something that matters.

the world has stopped spinning, but your body hasn’t caught up. every nerve is raw. the horizon still tilts when you blink, and your stomach coils with leftover nausea. but the cornucopia is still again and the jungle quiet for now.

johanna lowers you onto a bed of tangled ferns just inside the treeline, just far enough to stay hidden from the center. she’s breathing hard, crouched beside you, arms tense like she’s still ready to fight. you don’t know how long she was searching, but she’s drenched in sweat, streaked with grime, and her hands are shaking.

“you could’ve died,” she mutters, voice flat.

you look at her. “well, i didn’t.”

her jaw clenches. she rips off a strip of her already ruined body suit and starts wrapping your leg. you flinch, and she pauses. her eyes flick up to yours, searching, angry.

“i thought you were behind me,” she says.

“i was.”

“you were. then you weren’t.” she yanks the fabric tight, maybe harder than necessary. you bite back a hiss.

you should tell her to go. to find katniss, finnick—anyone who actually has a plan. but she’s here, and she chose to be. you don’t understand it, not fully, but you really don’t want her to leave.

“i slipped,” you say finally. “the spinning knocked me off the rocks. i tried to crawl back up, but...”

“yeah,” she says. “i saw the blood.”

you blink. “you followed the blood trail?”

she gives you a look. “no shit.”

you try to laugh, but it comes out hoarse. “that’s messed up.”

“yeah, well. so’s this whole thing.” her hands move more gently now.

you look up at the sky, blue and unnatural. the arena's playing calm again. you know better.

the brunette finishes tying off the makeshift bandage and sits back on her heels. she’s still watching you, that same look in her eyes. not panic, she doesn’t panic. but something close.

“you’re not dead,” she says again, quieter.

“i’m really trying pretty hard not to be,” you answer.

she shakes her head, then leans forward and presses her forehead to yours. for a second, neither of you breathe.

“you scared the shit out of me,” she murmurs.

you don’t say 'i was scared too'. she knows. she felt it in your grip when she pulled you up, in your half-conscious murmurs when she carried you off the rocks.

her voice tightens again. “if i’d gotten there two minutes later…”

“you didn’t,” you cut in. “you got there in time. that’s what matters.”

she pulls back and wipes her face roughly with the back of her hand. “you’re gonna be slow on that leg.”

you nod. “you’re still dragging me around, though.”

she snorts. “yeah. i am.”

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x fem!reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason fluff #johanna my love #catching fire johanna mason #thg x reader #the hunger games johanna mason #thg johanna #johanna mason #jabberjay #johanna mason oneshot #finnick odair #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x peeta mellark

115 notes · View notes

moronkyne · 9 days ago

Text

ೃ࿐ D.A.M.N crew lake side shenanigans *ೃ༄

⋆˚࿔ Non specified listener gender | Word Count: 721 ⋆˚࿔

The sun hung high in the vast blue sky, its golden light spilling over the serene lakeside scene, bathing everything in a warm embrace. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh water and pine, stirring the surface of the lake with delicate ripples that shimmered like scattered gems. Birds sang lazily from their perches in the towering trees, their melodies blending seamlessly with the occasional laughter of the group settled along the shore.

Freelancer sprawled across a red and white checkered blanket, basking in the warmth of the afternoon. Their sunglasses shielded their eyes from the relentless brilliance of the sun, while their head found comfort in their partner’s lap—a lap belonging to none other than the Incubus, whose clothing, despite being present, somehow left little to the imagination. The way the sunlight kissed his skin made his already alluring presence seem impossibly more intoxicating.

The group, clad in swimsuits of various styles, lounged together in contentment, enjoying the lazy pace of the day. Gavin’s fingers wove leisurely through Freelancer’s hair, his nails tracing soft patterns against their scalp as he idly twirled strands between his fingers. His conversation with the water elemental beside him was casual, the two exchanging thoughts on the coolness of the lake water and the tranquility of the setting. Occasionally, the elemental’s laughter bubbled up, delicate and soothing, like the rush of water over smooth stones.

Dear knelt beside Lasko, their palms smoothing warm sunscreen over his skin in gentle yet firm strokes. Their fingers worked with practiced ease over his shoulders, kneading the tension from his muscles, before trailing down his arms with careful precision. Lasko sighed under their touch, his body unconsciously leaning into the sensation, while Dear chuckled softly, taking their time with the task as if it were more of a pleasure to them.

The lake’s surface rippled wildly as Damien and Huxley tore through the water, arms cutting sharp and precise with each powerful stroke. The sunlight danced on their backs, turning droplets into fleeting sparks before they slipped away. Huxley, grinning even in the midst of his determined effort, reached forward just enough to grab Damien’s ankle, yanking his boyfriend backward with a mischievous tug. A splash erupted between them as Damien let out a startled laugh, kicking off the playful restraint and surging forward once more.

“You little cheat!” Damien called, his breath coming fast between strokes.

“Survival of the fittest, babe!” Huxley shot back, not a single trace of remorse in his voice.

But what Huxley underestimated—every single time—was just how deeply ingrained Damien’s competitive edge was. Years and years on a swim team had sculpted his technique, molded every instinctual movement into something fluid and efficient. His body knew how to cut through resistance, how to adjust and push even harder when the odds stacked against him. A little ankle grab was nothing compared to the drills he’d endured back in the day.

And so, with a smirk hidden beneath the surface, Damien twisted, shifting his weight just right, catching the momentum of his kick and using it to propel himself forward with expert precision. Within seconds, he was tearing through the water like a sleek predator, cutting past Huxley with an effortless grace that made his boyfriend curse under his breath.

“Oh, come on—how do you do that?” Huxley spluttered, fighting to close the gap, his laughter bubbling up between breaths.

Damien surfaced just enough to flash a triumphant grin. “Natural talent,” he teased with a strong grin before diving back in, extending his lead.

The playful challenge carried on, their movements strong yet carefree, the water wrapping around them like silk as they chased each other beneath the golden sun. Each lap was a battle, a game, a test of skill wrapped in affection.

short one shots are good for the soul

#moronkyne #the amount of fancy pinterest boards i have for vocab is crazy #pov you cant write you just throw pinterest keywords together #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted verse #redacted fandom #redacted headcanons #redacted damn crew #redacted gavin #redacted dear #redacted lasko #redacted damihux #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted asmr fanfic

68 notes · View notes

thecampjuicebox · 2 years ago

Note

Was wondering if you could do one with Halsin or Astarion (or Gale👀) where Tav/reader has never let him finish inside them before and it’s something he reallyyyy wants to do so he spends a long time getting Tav all worked up (maybe even days saying he’s too busy to do anything right now) and then keeps bringing them to the edge before telling them what he wants and saying he’ll let Tav finish if they beg for him to finish inside of them

AHHHHHH OKAY WAIT all three would work so perfectly but I feel like this is especially Halsin coded so ding ding ding, he's the winner today. This is going to be a little out of order canonically because I have a very specific time period in mind for this to go down. HERE WE GO!

Just as nature intended.

Pairing: Tav (f) x Halsin (m)

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warings: SMUT, edging, piv sex, breeding kink, fluff, oral (f receiving), lots of scratching (with some blood), finishing inside, game spoilers

Camp is especially quiet tonight. Gentle waves lap at the short rock ledge, sea mist floating through the air and invading your nostrils with the salty scent. You sigh and relax your tired bones into the cracked stone. The barely audible crackle of the campfire lulls your shot nerves and you rub your temples, the tadpole wriggling just behind your eyes. To put put it plainly, you're exhausted. The shadow curse has really taken it out of you and your group today, evident by the lack of usual banter and comradery that camp often bustles with at the end of each rough day. Instead, everyone has retired to their tents immediately after dinner. You tap your fingers against the rock in a random pattern, doing anything to distract you from the pounding headache in your skull. Carefully pushing yourself from the ground, you move to retrieve your bedroll, preparing to settle in for the night. Whether or not sleep finds you is up to the tadpole at this point.

An idea works it's way into your thoughts and you pause your busy hands for a moment. You know a perfect way to relieve the thundering between your ears. Your lover, Halsin. His large hands and incredible sex drive often offer you solace when nothing else will. Even if he declines your offer for sex tonight, you're perfectly happy to curl up in his arms and search for sleep that way, although you'd much prefer the former option. You plop your bedroll down next to the fire and start towards where he's set up, the familiar scent of oak and basil wafting in your direction from the narrow opening in his tent and you salivate.

"Is that you, my heart?"

His words trickle like honey into your ears and your core burns like the fires of Avernus. You reach a trembling hand out and move the right tent flap to the side, ducking into his spacious living quarters. Halsin is sat cross legged on his bedroll, careful hands whittling a comically small piece of wood, the shape of a duck barely visible past his large fingers. He looks so handsome. Caramel hair tied back in a messy half up, half down bun. Pale green eyes carefully scan the small piece of wood that his knife works at, chipping away little chunks here and there. You giggle quietly to yourself, chewing on the middle knuckle of your index finger to stifle the noise, taking care to not startle him while he works. His attention shifts to you and he immediately sets his work down, muscular arms spreading wide to welcome you into his warm embrace. You oblige and slink into his arms. Your face instinctively nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musk. He tightens his grip on you with one arm, using the other to adjust your seating position until you're straddling his muscular thighs. You grin, testing the waters of tonight's potential plans, nipping gently at the side of his neck. He groans, both hands reaching down to grasp your plush ass. "Hmph.."

"Hello, my love."

You lift your head to bite the pointy tip of Halsin's ear, earning a grunt into your perked up ears. A sweet sigh escapes his lungs.

"Not tonight.. My mind is elsewhere. I'm afraid I cannot please you the way you and I both desire. I'm sorry.."

Your lips flatten into a frown and you nod. "Alright." Kicking yourself for even thinking now was a good time, you carefully move to his side, throbbing temple resting against his firm bicep. His eyes soften at your quickness to pull away.

"What's wrong?"

You groan and mumble a soft "headache", closing your eyes to soothe the new light sensitivity. Halsin nods and leans to blow out the candles lit in a row next to him, arms snaking around you, guiding you onto your side with him. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and gently scrunches the hair in random spots on your scalp to relieve pressure. You sigh contently, allowing your lids to flutter.

...

It's been about a week of begging Halsin for release, being disappointingly turned down every time and your core aches from the moment you wake up, to the moment you lie your head on your bedroll at night. It's very unlike him to turn away moments of pleasure with you, especially after he confessed his feelings during the Teifling party. He was very open with his intentions and it made your head spin. He took you that very night. Large hands grabbing and prodding and begging for you, touching every inch of your willing body. Sex with Halsin is euphoric, to be blunt. Otherworldly. With Halsin's age and experience taken into consideration, it's no wonder. His words still ring in your ears every day.

"I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now. I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."

You lie in your bedroll, the thin veil of sleep still shrouding your tired eyes, but you're trapped in a dream. It's early morning, the rest of the camp still quiet, little snores breaking the dewy silence. Astarion tip toes past you, watching your body writhe in your sleep, clearly dreaming of something dangerous. He smirks and nudges you with his foot. You sit up in a panic, chest heaving, sweat beading up on your forehead and you shoot a look of surprise at Astarion. The vampire crosses his arms over his chest.

"Dreaming of me again, pet?"

"Oh, fuck off. You wish."

You scoff, shooing the man away with the back of your hand, both of your hands coming up to smooth your sweaty hair back and you groan. You quickly pull your nightgown over your knees, shielding yourself from the vampire's prying gaze. Astarion saunters off with a giggle. The small commotion stirs Halsin from his tent and he waves a soft "G'morning" to Astarion, the vampire returning the gesture with a similar wave. You squeeze your thighs together, noticing a very familiar warmth between them. Fuck. You're soaked, night garments basically ruined from the rather intense dream you had. Reaching down, you swipe the slick from your inner thigh and lift your hand up to inspect, the clear substance stretching into thin ropes between your fingers. You grin, not at all noticing your lover standing behind you now, pupils blown wide. He huffs and your bones nearly eject from the skin and muscles that hold them inside. "Sh-Shit." Halsin reaches down and grabs your arm, hoisting you up from your bedroll effortlessly.

"My tent. Immediately."

His tone is deep and hoarse with arousal. You obey and follow the elf to his tent, yelping when he throws you to the bedroll like a ragdoll. You love when he's rough with you. Primal need aches in your belly. You spread your legs for him while he clumsily fumbles with the clasps on the tent flaps. Eventually giving up, he turns to you, mouth salivating at the sight of you so open for him. So ready. He shakes his head, palming at his already erect cock through his leggings.

"Undress for me."

You nod, making a show of sliding your nightgown up and over your head, tossing it beside you, your absolutely soaked underwear coming next. You hook your thumbs into the soiled fabric and tug downwards, painfully slow. The elf grunts in approval, eyebrows knitting together. Once the fabric is at your knees, you slide one leg out, the other flicking the underwear into the air and towards Halsin. He catches them and quickly presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. You beckon him closer with a slow curl of your index finger, a lust filled grin thinning your otherwise full lips. The air in the tent is warm, the scent of your heat getting Halsin absolutely drunk. He stumbles forward, collapsing overtop of you, large frame pressing you into his bedroll as he aggressively grinds his throbbing cock into your naked mound, desperate for any kind of friction. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, closing the gap.

"Halsin p-please.."

His grinding halts, body sliding down yours. You whine at the loss of friction and grab for his hair, shoulders, ears, whatever you can get your hands on to pull him back to you, desperate to feel him against you again. He nuzzles his nose into your soaked cunt, breathing you in, hands sliding to your inner thighs to firmly press them apart to anchor you in place. Your hips buck upwards into the tip of his nose, finding a moment of friction against your deprived clit. He exhales heavy against your slit, his hot breath coasting over your wet skin. Wiggling desperately beneath him, your hands fly down to his hair and he chuckles.

"Oak Father preserve me.. You'll be my undoing."

A quick flick of the tip of his tongue ignites a flame in your core that you cannot control, fire burning hotter and hotter up your spine. Grasping fingers tug and yank at his caramel locks and he grunts against your cunt, the vibrations only assisting in your molten hot pleasure. You burn as hot as Karlach's engine heart. Your climax builds and you yell into the early morning air, teetering on the very edge of absolute bliss. Then the feeling stops. Halsin pulls away, smirking up at you. You kick your legs in frustration and push your hips up towards his face, clit searching for his tongue.

"No, please! PLEASE!"

Your fire dulls to embers and you whine down at your lover, head lifted just enough to meet his eyes. He waits there. Breathing slowly. Each huff of air fans out over your begging cunt. Your eyes well up with tears at the lack of touch. Halsin hushes you sweetly, lips wrapping themselves around your clit once more. He laps at you in slow, painfully slow motions, his head bobbing slightly with the movements of his tongue. The aching builds again and you flex your stomach muscles, walls clenching tightly around the emptiness. The agonizing emptiness. Your sharp nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loudly into your folds. Teeth scrape over your clit, your hips bucking upwards quickly in response and you cry out. "Gods!" Halsin grins and moves his hands under your ass, pushing you up roughly against his tongue as we works you to the edge once more, listening for your change in moans before he pulls away again. You sob. Tears stream freely down your cheeks, back arching up off of the bedroll beneath you and you babble incoherently.

He repeats this process until you're absolutely broken, begging, screaming for him to give you what you so desperately crave. Release. You're positive your other companions are awake now, eating breakfast around the fire to the sounds of Halsin destroying you. The thought definitely arouses you further. He stands over your writhing body and kicks off his leggings, angry and erect cock springing forward. A thin rope of precum drips onto your thigh and you mewl. He bends over to grab your hips, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, nails digging into the same spot on his shoulder before. Halsin hisses. You grin and try to sneakily lower yourself onto his cock, Halsin catching on quickly. He tuts.

"Patience. I want to savor you for as long as I can."

His lips crash to yours, tongue begging for entrance, the subtle taste of your cunt lingering in his mouth. You accept his advance, wrestling your needy tongue with his, a mesh of wet sounds filling the tent. Without warning, he lowers you onto his cock. You moan loudly into his mouth and he follows suit at the grip your cunt has on him. He breaks the kiss to mumble under his breath.

"By the nine hells, you're tight. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Your hands move down his back, nails dragging behind them, slicing long bloody marks into his tan flesh. He throws his head back, bottoming out inside of you before lifting you all the way off of him once more, tip popping out of you with an audible squelch. You keen at the emptiness. Slick drips down beneath you, creating a puddle on the bedroll. Halsin slides in again, then out, then in, teasing your insides. You growl in frustration.

"Fuck me, gods damn it!"

Tears sting in your eyes from the way he's toying with you. You can't take it anymore. Your entire body burns. Aches. Needs.

"I will, my heart. And I'm going to fill you to the brim once I'm done. Only then, can you cum."

Your breath catches in your throat. Halsin had asked to cum inside of you before. And you declined every single time. The idea of potentially carrying a child terrified you. He often reminded you of the resident cleric in your camp, had the need for her become necessary. Now.. Now you're intrigued. You quirk an eyebrow at him and nod slowly, teeth catching your bottom lip. You chew the skin there nervously before settling on a decision. You craved Halsin. Needed every inch of him inside of you. You agree.

"O-Okay.. Just please.."

Halsin slides in before you can finish speaking, the tip of his weeping cock slamming into your soft cervix. You cry out loudly, head falling back, jaw falling open. Your eyes cross, your fingers and toes go numb, you're floating now. Black spots speckle your vision as Halsin aggressively ruts up into you. Your walls flutter around him and he chokes on his breath, hips struggling to keep a consistent rhythm. He nears his end, and you're not far behind. He curses under his breath, grip on you impossibly tight, the indents his fingers leaving on your thighs and ass sure to bruise later. You cry his name into the air of the now steamy tent, the shuffling noises of the rest of the camp making you painfully aware of just how loud you're being. They definitely hear you. Halsin encourages your loudness, nails digging into the flesh of your ass roughly as he continues his thrusting, your entire body bouncing in his arms.

"Gods, I'm close. Beg for it. Beg for me to fill you, just as nature intended."

You pull yourself closer to him, torsos melding into one. Leaning close to his ear you let out a deliciously low moan, tongue working your way along his earlobe.

"Cum inside of me, Halsin. I want you to fill me up. Please.."

Halsin reaches a hand between the two of you, relying on your grip on him to hold you up and his fingers find your deprived clit, rubbing in furious circles. He thrusts one final time. Hot ropes of cum spew inside of you, the large elf grunting in pure ecstasy. He works your clit still, your climax very suddenly slamming into you and you scream his name. Your walls tighten around his softening cock and he slides out of you. You ride the waves, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you come undone. He holds you for a moment, cooing into your ear about how well you did for him, how much he loves you, how proud of you he is. You mewl and press tired kisses to his chest and shoulders, asking to be put down. He sets you on your feet and you squirm at the mixture of his cum and yours dripping down your inner thigh, legs barely able to hold you upright. You giggle.

"I need to bathe.. You've ruined me."

Halsin chuckles and pulls his leggings back on, reaching down to retrieve your nightgown and he hands it to you. You slide it on carefully, turning to catch Halsin taking another deep inhale of your underwear. You shake your head and he smirks in your direction, tucking the fabric under his pillow. "I'll be keeping these." He slides his hand into yours and leads you out of his tent, the rest of your companions snapping their attention to the two of you as they're finishing breakfast. Your face turns a deep shade of red and you lower your head in embarrassment. Yeah, they heard you. Astarion stands, moving behind Gale, placing his hands on Gale's hips and rutting playfully into his behind.

"Oh gods, Halsin! Please Halsin! I'm so close Halsin!"

Astarion mocks your loud moans, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he pretends to cum. Gale rolls his eyes and shoves the vampire backwards, smoothing the back of his now crumpled robe down. Karlach and Shadowheart throw their heads back and laugh, Wyll shakes his head and sips his tea, blinking through the steam. You scurry out of sight of everyone, hand covering your face to somehow shield you from their taunts. Halsin slaps a hand onto Astarion's shoulder, leaning in to his ear, the smell of you still evident on his breath.

"Wishing she'd cry out for you like that, blood sucker?"

#halsin #halsin x tav #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #fic request

1K notes · View notes

nilefreemans · 27 days ago

Note

rockly + 12 and/or 100 if it sparks joy <3 <3 MWAH

send me prompts from this list

When Hicks invited the pair of them to join him and JP at their familie's lake side cabin, Rocker knew that he was going to be the odd one out here. It felt like some kind of test, and Rocker didn't want to fail it. Molly was amused by his nerves mostly. They've been together almost a year at this point, and Rocker had met JP a few times, and Hicks has warmed up to him. Mostly. There's an outside shower by the lake, set up past the house, and Rocker decided on an early morning swim, kissing Molly's bare shoulder before carefully untangling their limbs so he could enjoy a swim before they start the day. The water is chilled when Rocker tests it, his breath hitching as he takes it in. The sun has only just started to go up, and he could go back in, snuggle up next to Molly and spend the morning in bed- In hind sight, Rocker really wishes he would have stayed in. The water of the lake was colder then anticipated but Rocker managed a decent swim before he got out, going for the outdoor shower and stripping out of his swim suit, leaving the soacking piece of clothing on the bench outside of the shower. He gets lost in the heat of the water, humming quietly under his breath as he indulges in the sandlewood soap, trying to think of how he could try and get Hicks to warm up to him a bit. Wonders if JP would be willing to go kayaking with him. When the water gets warm, Rocker turns off the water and reaches out of the shower to the bench- His towel is gone. Rocker's swim suit is also gone. "Fuck-"

Rocker frantically looks around the shower, fully aware that he's buck naked, in the middle of the woods without his phone to ask Molly for help. He knows that Molly is still asleep, she likes to indulge when she can, and nothing about JP says he's a morning person. The problem here is with the Commander. Following Deacon's lead, Rocker sends up a quick prayer to whoever could be listening and prays that Hicks is also sleeping in, before he runs out to the back door closest to the shower. Locked. "Fuck, fuck-" Rocker looks left and then right, knows the other door is past a large set of windows from the kitchen and books it across that side of the house, his feet going from dirt to soft grass to the pavement stones of the porch off the kitchen. He's being sure not to trip when he slams into something- Someone. "Damn it-" Rocker closes his eyes then, wishes for the world to swallow him up, as the familiar hoarse voice swears a few times. When he opens them, Rocker is face to face with his annoyed comander, his white robe covered in coffee, looking very unimpressed. Suddenly, Rocker remembers that he is naked. His hands slap in front of him in a poor attempt at modesty. "I forgot my towel." Rocker blurts out, which wasn't really true. He did remember a towel, it had just been misplaced. "Neighbor's dog likes to take things off the bench," Hicks says, voice bored, though Rocker can see the way his eye twitches in the way it always does when he's annoyed. "That's why there's a second bench in the shower." "Noted." Rocker says and they both stand there for a few more moments, Rocker completely exposed and still dripping from the water while Hick's is dripping from his coffee. "Go get some goddamn clothes on." "Sir, yes sir."

#rockly #donovan rocker #robert hicks #molly hicks #abi tag #swat #swat cbs #my writing #totalnerdwrites

64 notes · View notes

isthlsfate · 2 months ago

Text

⌞ 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ⌝

‧₊˚ ⏾ ༉‧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: maybe we’ll work it out

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pushy!rafe x black!pogue!reader, pining, some angst, rafe being kind of obsessive/possessive, no use of (y/n), best friend’s brother trope

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 𖥔 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

‧₊˚ ⏾ ༉‧

tanneyhill’s kitchen is always colder in the mornings—sterile, echoing marble with too many windows and not enough warmth.

but right now, there’s coffee brewing, and that soft hush of ocean wind slipping in through the cracked patio door.

it’s early.

too early for anyone but you and wheezie, usually.

when you pad in, hair still damp from your quick shower, you see rafe.

he’s leaning against the counter in a hoodie you’ve seen too many times, sleeves pushed to his elbows, eyes heavy-lidded and quiet.

like he hasn’t slept.

or like he’s been waiting.

you freeze, fingers wrapped around your mug.

“morning.”

he doesn’t say anything right away.

just watches as you move to the cabinet, standing on your toes to reach a mug.

“thought you left,” he says finally.

you glance over.

“didn’t know you cared.”

“i do.”

your hand stills against the handle. just for a second.

he walks over, steps slow and deliberate.

“you disappeared after our little chat last night.”

“because it was a party,” you murmur, pouring coffee, keeping your back to him.

“you disappeared from me. was it too much?”

your heart skips.

“sarah—”

“sarah’s still asleep.”

“i’m not,” says a voice behind you, raspy with sleep and suspicion.

you nearly spill your drink.

sarah’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised.

“i—” you start, turning around too quickly.

rafe just lifts his mug to his lips like he’s unbothered.

sarah’s eyes flick between you.

the silence is suddenly too loud.

“since when do you both drink coffee this early?” she asks slowly, like she’s testing the water for cracks.

“jet lag,” you blurt, then blink. “i mean, not actual jet lag, but the emotional kind. gala hangover.”

“right.”

she narrows her eyes.

“and you?”

rafe smirks, leaning back against the island.

“couldn’t sleep.”

“you never wake up early,” she says, tone bordering on accusing now.

rafe shrugs.

you pretend to sip your coffee and pray she doesn’t hear the way your heart is thumping in your chest.

“okay…” she says slowly, her gaze lingering on you, then drifting—just barely—to rafe.

it doesn’t say i know, but it says i see something.

you force a smile.

“i was just gonna head out, jj and john b wanted help with the boat.”

that makes her perk up, just a bit too much.

“jj again, huh?”

you glance at rafe before you can stop yourself.

he’s stone-faced now.

the mask back on.

that same unreadable quiet you’ve seen before storms.

but his grip tightens ever so slightly around the ceramic mug.

“what, is something going on with you two?” sarah grins.

“no,” you say a little too quickly. “i mean—i don’t think so. he’s just… jj.”

rafe sets his cup down harder than necessary.

you flinch.

sarah notices.

her grin fades.

“okay, weird tension central. what is going on?”

“nothing,” you and rafe say at the same time.

too quickly.

too in sync.

she narrows her eyes again.

but you’re already slipping past her, mug abandoned, heat crawling up the back of your neck.

as you cross the living room, you hear rafe’s voice—low and sharp, directed at sarah.

“maybe if you stopped asking so many damn questions—”

and her cutting reply:

“maybe if you weren’t such a weirdo around her all the time.”

you don’t stay to hear more.

because if you do, you might turn back.

you might admit what you really want.

and neither of you are ready for that just yet.

it’s late afternoon when you end up at the wreck, legs curled into a chair on the patio, sunglasses perched on your head, skin still sun-warmed from the walk over.

the air smells like salt and fryer oil—familiar and comfortable.

sarah sits across from you, digging through a basket of fries, feet propped up on the empty chair between you.

and then comes jj.

he slides into the seat next to you with that signature crooked smile, golden hair wind-tossed, a mischievous glint in his eye that dares the world not to fall in love with him.

“you’re looking awfully fancy for a pogue,” he teases, eyes flicking to your earrings, the light makeup still clinging to your cheeks from last night.

“leftover gala magic,” you say, nudging him with your knee. “try not to be too dazzled.”

“oh, i’m dazzled, alright,” he grins. “can’t believe you didn’t invite me. we could’ve made a dramatic scene, snuck off to the balcony, kissed under the stars, ruined your reputation…”

you laugh, shaking your head.

“you’d spill wine on someone’s tux in the first five minutes.”

“exactly. memorable.”

he winks. and okay, you do feel the corner of your mouth tug upward, even as your stomach coils—not from jj, but from the weight of something unspoken in the air.

because jj is charming.

sweet.

chaotic.

but he isn’t him.

you feel it before you see him—the prickle at the nape of your neck.

that instinctive awareness you’ve tried to spend years ignoring.

you glance toward the entrance just as rafe steps out of his truck across the street, tossing his keys in his hand, jaw set.

your breath catches.

he doesn’t head inside right away.

just leans against the car door, watching. and it’s not subtle.

his eyes are locked on you and jj.

sarah doesn’t notice. she’s too busy texting john b.

but jj follows your gaze.

“oh,” he mutters, grinning. “looks like your favorite kook’s arrived.”

“don’t start.” you nudge his arm, pretending to roll your eyes.

“i’m not starting,” he says innocently, then leans in a little closer. “but tell me this, if you had to choose between a night with me or rafe cameron…”

you arch a brow.

“this is a dangerous game, maybank.”

“come on,” he grins. “jus say it’s me. stroke my fragile ego.”

but before you can respond, a voice cuts in behind you—low, smooth, and anything but casual.

“she’d never choose you.”

you whip around.

rafe is suddenly there, standing a little too close, arms crossed, expression unreadable but eyes burning.

jj leans back in his chair, clearly amused.

“well, hey there, buddy,” he says. “didn’t hear you creep up.”

rafe ignores him.

his gaze is on you.

only you.

“didn’t realize you were slumming it today,” he says, but there’s no bite to it. just bitterness, laced in sugar. “thought you guys were just working on the boat.”

you stand, suddenly very aware of how close jj had been.

“i was just catching up.”

“with maybank?” he asks, like it physically hurts.

“yeah. is that a problem?”

his jaw ticks.

“guess not. you seem to be having fun.”

“rafe—” sarah’s voice finally cuts in, suspicious now. “why are you being weird?”

“i’m not,” he says smoothly. “just saying hey to my sister’s best friend.”

the title lands heavy. like a threat and a reminder.

and then, before anyone else can speak, he turns and heads inside.

jj whistles low.

“dude’s got it bad.”

sarah gives him a look.

“what do you mean by that?”

he shrugs, but looks directly at you.

“ask her.”

and you?

you don’t say a word.

because your heart is still pounding.

and your skin’s still tingling.

and rafe cameron just saw you smile at someone else—and you’re not sure if it was jealousy in his eyes or something far more dangerous.

the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, turning the sky into molten gold.

the two of you sit side by side on the sand, shoes tossed behind you, toes buried in the cool grit.

sarah hugs her knees to her chest, her hair catching the light like the edge of a flame.

you both watch the waves roll in, rhythmic and endless, like the questions she hasn’t had the guts to ask until now.

she breaks the quiet gently.

“do you… want to talk about what happened at the wreck?”

you glance sideways at her, but her face is unreadable. calm. kind. too understanding.

you don’t deserve her.

“what do you mean?” you ask, though your voice is soft. small.

she lets out a steady breath.

“you and rafe.”

the words hang between you, delicate as sea foam and just as fleeting.

you look back at the ocean, unable to meet her eyes.

“you saw it,” you say quietly.

“i’ve always seen it,” she admits. “i think i just didn’t want to believe it was real.”

you laugh, bitter and broken at the edges.

“neither did i.”

a silence passes. then, gently, she reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it once.

“i’m not mad,” she says. “i just… wish you’d told me.”

“i didn’t know how.”

you finally meet her gaze, and your skin warms, not from embarrassment, but grief.

“i didn’t mean for it to happen. and i never wanted to keep it from you. but it’s rafe, sarah. rafe.”

she nods, slowly.

“i know.”

your voice breaks before the next words come out.

“he scares me.”

she doesn’t flinch.

“he scares me too.”

you feel the sting at the corner of your eyes and blink fast, pressing your forehead to your knees.

“but when he looks at me… i don’t know. it’s like he sees straight through every version of me i’ve ever been. and i hate that i like it.”

she doesn’t try to talk you out of it. doesn’t give you any tidy advice or easy answers.

just threads her fingers through yours and holds on.

“i’m here,” she says. “no matter what happens. i’m not going anywhere.”

the house is dark, save for the soft glow of a lamp left on in the upstairs hallway.

you tiptoe out of sarah’s room, careful not to wake her, your limbs quiet and heavy from the ocean air and whispered truths.

you just want water.

you pad silently down the hall, turning the corner, and stop short.

rafe is there, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting.

you freeze.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, hungry and storm-dark, a storm that’s been gathering for years.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, voice low, rough.

you shake your head.

“just… thirsty.”

he doesn’t move.

you try to sidestep him, but his hand comes up gently—not grabbing, just halting. his fingers hover near your wrist.

“you like jj?” he asks.

the words are so soft, they almost disappear in the space between you.

you swallow hard.

“i think… i was trying to see if i could.”

“and?” his jaw tightens.

“i couldn’t.”

his hand brushes your wrist, fingertips trailing fire.

“why not?”

“because he’s not you.” you meet his eyes, and this time you don’t look away.

something snaps.

he steps closer, closing the space between you with a tension so thick it pulses.

his hand cradles your head, palm warm and trembling at the nape of your neck.

“i can’t keep pretending,” he whispers, breath brushing your cheek. “i see you in every room. i think about you all the time. and when i saw you with him today…”

you angle yourself to face him fully, heart hammering.

“rafe…”

“you’re in my blood,” he says. “you always have been.”

you don’t remember leaning in.

you don’t remember who moved first.

all you know is the moment his lips touch yours, it’s like lightning strikes the length of your spine.

it’s not gentle.

it’s not careful.

it’s years of holding back crashing forward like the sea.

he kisses you like he’s drowning and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat. like this is the only thing in the world that’s ever made sense.

and this time—you don’t pull away.

___

꩜ taglist:

#reader insert #black reader #x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #pining #forbidden love

79 notes · View notes

dedeinthewild · 2 months ago

Text

paul aron x reader, no labels

“Your bed is like… 30% sheets, 70% snack wrappers and passive aggression,”

summary : In hotel rooms that smelled like warm sheets and shared routines, a sleepy driver and his favorite photographer quietly fell into something soft and utterly theirs.

If there was one thing they loved, it was the smell that filled the rooms they slept in for just a few days but, for that short while, became their home. That smell they picked up—each time a different blend of skin, fabric softener, and soap bars stolen from hotel amenity kits—and the sound of them waking up and fixing their hair in the morning, one of the things that bonded them. Like when you're at home with nothing to do, and once you open your eyes, you just stay under the covers, the warmth of your skin marked by the deep sleep, and you can still catch that unmistakable scent people leave in the sheets.

That had kind of become Paul’s anthem in life. By now, he was the third driver for a Formula One team, and even though he wasn’t racing anymore, he still traveled around to do some testing and spend time with the team. But not being behind the wheel meant he could give in to that feeling—the one that glued you to the mattress for hours and was nearly impossible to resist. And if it hadn’t been for the girl often by his side, the Estonian probably would’ve spent weeks wrapped in the warm scent of his own skin, getting up only for the morning run he loved. Maybe not even for that.

She, on the other hand, was the type of person who went to bed when everyone else was already asleep and woke up before most had even opened their eyes. Still not quite used to traveling, she’d walk down the hallways in pajamas, hotel slippers, and a slightly messy braid keeping her hair in place. Lately, though, she’d gotten into the habit of waking Paul up when they were at the same hotel—especially when Parc Fermé was collaborating with him and they were spending several days in close contact. She had figured out that after racing, he would always crawl back into bed and sleep a few more hours now that he didn’t have to follow the intense training schedules of the racing season. And after two mornings of Paul sprinting breathless into the paddock, she figured she could kill two birds with one stone.

That morning, she’d been woken up earlier than usual by a call from her mother, who had completely forgotten about the time difference. So she’d taken a little extra care getting ready for the day of photos she had ahead in the feeder series paddock. She was walking down the hallway in a pair of worn jeans, cameras in hand, hair neatly braided, and that calm, rested air she always carried leaving behind faint hints of a perfume she’d picked up in the French Riviera. A sharp contrast to the chaos she’d find in the driver’s room—shirts everywhere, an overflowing suitcase splayed open on the floor, and protein bar wrappers scattered at the foot of the bed.

“You better not be dead in there,” she joked, pushing open the door he’d left ajar, stepping in carefully so she wouldn’t startle him. A few water bottles were scattered around, some cologne boxes falling out of the suitcase, and polo shirts draped over the armchair, next to his laptop.

“Paul?” She passed the entryway and peeked into the main room, where the giant Estonian lay sprawled across a bed that looked both massive and incredibly comfortable. His left arm was wedged between the pillows, the other resting on top, his hand close to slightly parted lips, curls splayed across the striped blue sheets. He looked like he’d been shot mid-dream—lying on his stomach, sleeves of his black sleep shirt rolled up on his shoulders.

“You’re not slick. I know you’re awake,” she said with a smirk, setting her cameras down on the nightstand and leaning over slightly to tickle him just under the arms—his weakest spot. But he was quick. And sneaky as hell. With a swift move, he grabbed her arm, trapping her between himself and the bed and pulling her onto the other half like the universe had always known that was where she belonged.

Paul looked at her with those mischievous, strikingly blue eyes, the blankets pulled up to his chin as he stretched, while she stayed there with the faintest smile still on her face.

“You’re so predictable. You fell for it,” he laughed, stretching wide enough to knock the cameras off the nightstand and nudge her glasses back up her nose.

“You are the worst human being I’ve ever met,” she said—her usual line—while he rested his head on his fist, curls going in every direction.

“Mm, good morning to you too.”

“I have a schedule. People to shoot. Tire blankets to romanticize. Let me go.”

“Nope. You willingly entered enemy territory. Rookie move.”

He grinned, chest rising and falling with each breath, and she caught a whiff of that signature scent—some blend of hotel sheets and whatever cologne he’d bummed off a teammate after forgetting his own. He always had a different one, but underneath it all was the smell of Paul, and to her, that was one of the best scents in the world.

“I knew you were awake,” she muttered, pinching his arm, stealing a bit of that grin for herself.

“Sure you did,” he teased, soaking in the perfect feeling of waking up next to someone like her—in warm sheets, with all the time in the world… or almost.

“You look like a real adult this morning. Very professional,” he added, nodding toward the cameras on the nightstand, alongside her phone and wallet buzzing with notifications.

“You’re just jealous because I actually have responsibilities today, while you sleep here like one of those snoring dogs.”

“What kind of dog would I be?”

“What kind of question is that?” she laughed, resting her cheek on the arm he’d curled around her. Her full cheeks pressed into his skin, warm from the bed. She was so cute. Sweet. Terribly familiar. And the fact that she didn’t realize it made it all even better.

“I’m saving my energy. It’s called reserving. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re not even pretending to be productive,” she said, while he raised his eyebrows at the jab—watching her slowly give in to the bed’s siren call.

“I’m not a fan of lying.”

Paul was the kind of person who was hard to read at first, but she’d been one of the few to really understand him. Sometimes withdrawn and private, other times so goofy and light that even the deepest conversation would turn into laughter. The kind that carries you somewhere else. The kind that makes you want to play your favorite song and let it blend with the moment—just like the two of them did.

“Your bed is like… 30% sheets, 70% snack wrappers and passive aggression,” she grinned, eyeing him as he seemed to realize she was trying to get up and drag him with her.

“Five more minutes, come on,” he said, gently tugging at the hem of her shirt, keeping her close before wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pinning her between his chest and arms.

“You don’t even like cuddling.”

“Who said that?”

“You,” she laughed, feeling the warmth of his arms against her, almost brushing her cheek. In truth, Paul was exactly the type to rest his chin on someone’s head, wrap an arm around someone’s shoulders, press a quick kiss on a relative’s cheek, or offer his elbow to a girl walking beside him. So no, he wasn’t someone who didn’t like cuddles—he just had his own rhythm.

“I guess I’m evolving then,” he said, letting her go so she could move to her side of the bed. But she didn’t seem inclined to. She was too comfortable, nestled in the pillows, one of his hands still resting around her waist.

“You smell like… photographer stress and vanilla lip balm.”

“It’s unscented, dumbass,” she laughed. “You smell like hotel sheets and ego.”

They stayed like that, laughing, tossing around dumb questions, until her phone and alarms buzzed a little louder, and it was finally time for her to leave. She sat up, grabbing her phone, while he leaned back with his hands behind his head, watching her with a half-dreamy smile, eyes locked on the way she talked to herself out loud.

“Okay. I actually have to go. Like, five minutes ago.”

“Fine. But if I fall back asleep and miss breakfast, it’s your fault.”

The sleepy air around them definitely made that a real risk.

“I wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t forget to set alarms and would 100% sleep through your entire career.”

“True. But still. Makes you kinda my hero.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping out of bed and noticing that even though Paul had slept alone, he’d still slept on the monster side of the bed. And her heart told her that if he were in any bed, anywhere in the world, then the other half of it would always be hers. With her wallet, her shoes kicked off at the foot, and her own suitcase open on the floor—shower gels and hair straighteners scattered everywhere.

By the end of the day, she was exhausted—thousands of steps, countless photos, and the full weight of her work sinking into her spine. And as if that wasn’t enough, after her shower, the hotel hairdryer sputtered out in a puff of black smoke, leaving her in her favorite oversized tee and too-big pajama pants, standing in the hallway debating who could lend her one.

The answer was obvious. Actually—no “almost” about it.

She knocked on the door that had become her regular stop. Key card in one hand, phone in the other, hoping no one stepped out of their room to witness the mess she was.

Paul opened the door in Nike shorts and a faded shirt she’d seen him wear a thousand times, holding a mug of hot tea, freshly dried curls falling perfectly across his forehead.

“You look… aggressively off-duty,” he said, surprised, glancing at her wet hair and her pajama pants.

“Bold coming from someone drinking bedtime tea like a grandma.”

He laughed, letting her walk in under his arm, watching her head straight for the bathroom in search of the hairdryer, as he leaned on the sink sipping his tea.

“You have a nicer one,” she called out.

“Parc Fermé not treating you well?” he teased, watching her comb her hair with the precision of someone with a full-blown routine. She looked pocket-sized in the mirror, like a character from one of his favorite books.

“So this is where you disappear when you ghost the group chat,” she said, pointing at his mug.

“Sometimes I need a break from you chaos goblins.”

“You are the chaos goblin,” she muttered as she carefully dried her hair, and he watched her in silence—comfortable, easy.

“Do you ever think we’re gonna miss this?”

“Me stealing your hairdryer?” she smirked at him.

“No. I mean… this. The weird nights. The almost-normal stuff. The in-between.”

Paul could be tender. He knew how to put into words the memories and feelings she usually just felt, but never said—sometimes too afraid, sometimes too wired to nostalgia.

“Yeah. Probably. Even the dumb parts,” she said, warmth filling her chest just like it had that morning.

“Especially the dumb parts,” he smiled, handing her a bit of tea while she combed. Then helped smooth her shirt with the warm air, flattening it with his hands.

No surprise they ended up sitting side by side against the bathroom wall, two more steaming mugs in hand, hair full of what was happening between them—laughter, comfort, little moments. Talking about where to eat, hotel towels, and the laundry service they’d both secretly worshipped at least once.

“I like how it fits you, anyway,” he said, sipping the last of his tea.

She looked down, realizing she was wearing a shirt from the collection her agency had made in collaboration with Paul. And his smile held the look of someone who knew she’d caught the meaning—and loved watching those little moments bloom.

“Wanna split a protein bar? I gotta finish them or the team’s gonna kick me.”

“Not a chance,” she laughed, eyes soft as ever. Shirts on the floor. Bottles on the ground. Just like them.

I know you'll be getting bored of the photographer x driver plot line, but it fits paul (and me) so well, so I feel like I can picture it well... however, I'm having another huge paul phase 'cause he's amazing and well... he's paul aron

47 notes · View notes

princessesqcue · 8 months ago

Text

Greedy

pt.2

Pairing - lowkey yandere Kim Taehyung x workaholic!Reader

Kind of co-workers au

Genres- yandere, comfort, angst, romance ?smut if you hold your breath

Summary~ Co-worker/work superior Taehyung is the only person who makes reader feel safe in the office, he is the perfect gentleman that she falls in love with but what happens when the very trust you put in him is the one way ticket he will use to test your morals to their uncomfortable limits

Chapter Warnings : there is some detailed smut , abandonment issues on blast , insecurities, please let me know if I forgot anything 😬

Word count: 5.479k

the yandere stuff is still marinating, give me a sec

this is not edited , bear with me 🙂‍↕️

It is often said that grief can leave you frozen in shock , the time and space around you can well keep moving forward without you and you don't really get to have a say in the reality that you could snap back to the moment you garner the little strength in you and decide to put the pieces back together

that night you had turned stone , petrified in place under the dark gaze of Taehyung without much reasoning capacity ,the minimal of your energy left from your run back to the office could only deem it necessary to give up on you in such an unfortunate position

you were not exactly sure why you cried , you felt embarrassed as if you were caught doing something you should not have been doing, overwhelmed by the tension heavy in the room , the tension the woman ahead remained oblivious to as she released crude loud pitched moans into the air while her manicured hands an ,entire contrast from your regularly trimmed ones grasped onto Taehyung's dark locs

the nausea that came with the long list of not clearly detectable emotions motivated your legs to pace backwards and away from the bile invoking sight

you felt the further nauseated when you realised that Taehyung still wore that faint smirk and you accidentially met your ankle with the sharp corner of a rusting file cabinet

you are sure that you heard the woman ask Taehyung what the sound had been as Taehyung responded without second thought , calm and detached

''shh ,it's just a rat baby''.

you were confident that you could throw up but nothing came even when the nausea stayed for the entire night to the point of you passing out on the couch unable to do anything else for yourself...only to be woken up by the previous set of sharp eyes that followed you well into your nightmares

it was ironic how you had awoken embarrassed at earlier , in your unpleasant dream Taehyung had simply demanded you out of your stance , previous noisy vocal emmissions morphing into horrific screeches as the woman twisted her head in your direction , even then you could not get your legs to move and as if that was not enough, when your panicked eyes met hers you cried harder at her melting face , candle wax in the place of skin , you are forced to watch unable to look away and as you look pleadingly at taehyung onlyvto fing his face in the same state with a grimace and dark eyes staring at you . that's when you wake jolt awake , frozen on your couch as you try to make sense of your surroundings

a dark room barely luminated by the moon outside .

the seering cut on your ankle does not even register until you are stood under the bolts of steaming hot water .

you couldn't get yourself to face Taehyung , but why?

the reason is not very clear to you as you set a plan of avoidance in motion , all you knew was that you needed an unmeasured set of days away from Taehyung to maybe forgive yourself or him for the great disdain he had placed in your unassuming way .

the initial plan had been to ask for a week off from your boss but you felt selfish as you stood in front of your boss settling on a fib about severe menstrual pains , earning yourself limited work hours cited ''you can leave anytime you don't feel too well miss L/n

it was no longer a baseless fib when your period switched dates to adjust to the immense level of stress you felt for the past few days .

it was only the beginning of your shananigans when you became aware of Taehyung's desk ahead of you path , a sitting position that once provided you a good view of a concentrated Taehyng triggering you in this particular instance and so you asked a cowoker to swap cubicles

it didn't bother you when you found yourself in the far coner of the room , right where the sun don't shine and your depression spikes for the hills .

You were almost satisfied as long as you didn't really see Taehyung , occasional glimpses at his silhouee when he was looking away almost made you want to cry , the same silhouette hard to mistake for another stood in a white shirt with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks while his eyes stayed attached to whatever caught his attention on the copy machine that just happens to be in the exit way

you were thankful when he never raised his head , you wanted to think that he just didn't see you there or feel your presence , it honestly didn't matter as you were still not ready to face him

you would never know that Taehyung had watched you walk back in the direction you came , he had noticed you way before you did him before proceeding to test your coward

let's just say he wasn't pleased with your sudden change in behaviour witnessing that you would rather take the stairs than simply be a grown adult and own up to the consequences of your mistakes .

You were trying your hardest best to not give into the obsessive thought patterns that occasionally presented you with the million dollar question

Who even was that woman

and why her and not me , the why had been quickly replaced with a long list of reasons that could as well date back to the ancient history of your existence

It was okay though, you could always filter everything out with the help of the loads of piled up works on your desk .

you were once again on your way out , you patting yourself on the back as you realised that Taehyung had become somewhat rare around the office , he was rather important and it was not that abnormal for him to not really be glued in his office chair 9-5

at times you could swear that he was assisting you with your ✨taevoiding✨ plan seeing his back ascend the stairs from your floor not far from the roof where people went for a smoke

Taehyung included

you stopped in your tracks, not frozen

You were actually waiting to get into the elevator , you were going home again.

on the first floor your cab awaited and maybe you missed him ,tilting your head up towards the near distant rooftop , you had never been up there having had seen Taehyung's back face the sun from the balcony

that would have been enough for you in that particular day as you only promised to heal your heart, and so your eyes searched

until you grew frozen again,you grew uneasy as your eyes met with the rooftop

dark eyes already focused in your direction paired with extremely faint trails of smoke from your position being puffed into the air , a hard in his pocket, the other shedding the remnants of his cigarette on the surface leveled with his chest

you thank the driver who simply tells you that they don't have all day and break the tension that follows you all the way home to the moment you lay in bed at night

you didn't know what to feel so you told yourself that Taehyung was giving you space as you needed, avoiding you and further straining your complicated bond , you wanted to talk to him but what would you even say

the thought of the reason you ended up in this position actually tugs at the strings of your heart and you refuse to cry .

You felt lonely ,you realised without Taehyung by your office side you were much quieter than usual, and for the first time in a while you seeked him out without any luck , you made nothing of the apparent absence for a good three days until the fourth one came and Sung-mi occupied the desk that Taehyung usually occupied as the team manager

you are dumb.

Sung-mi is poised, shiny black locs cascading down her back and freshly manicured nails

she suited Taehyung so well and as she addresses the office, non alcoholic beverages in everyone's glasses you run for the bathroom the bile tasting bitter on your tongue as whatever you had in your stomach wastes in the toilet bowl.

"...so let's have a congratulatory toast to myself as the new manager and Taehyung for being the best manager that we will all miss".

He was gone and all this time you were contemplating to nurse your bond back to health ?

Taehyung was gone without so little as a goodbye in your direction, the nail in the coffin was Sung-mi who he left in his seat and you feel terrible about how you had managed to protect yourself so well

If you still occupied the previous desk you'd be faced with yet another pain jerker in your view , your self-esteem would plunge for the ultimate low if it was not already there .

you know what's funny, Sung-mi and you came into the company right around the same time, months apart although she was not an intern like yourself, she was a proper employee who the office chatter rumored to climb the career ladder with her charms and you immediately understood what they meant

''i never pegged Taehyung to be that type ''

-'' I mean who would resist Sung-mi, I would understand if he folded"

"but it's only temporary right-"

Right?

it was a three months post departure

You were sharing a lunch table with a group of coworkers hearing all the talk that went around the table your response to all being the food you stuff down your throat

the food that threatens to choke you as Seunkwan happily shares that Taehyung had accepted his friend request , of course that was not the big reveal as everyone gloated about already being internet friends of Taehyung

You had yet to hear a word from him.

"Yoon Hana , Taehyung's girlfriend, there is no way he could play Sung-mi sunbae like that !''

with a disapproving shake of his head Hanbin places a hand on Seungwan's shoulder proceeding to tell him

''you still have a lot to learn young man ''.

The photo of Taehyung's new woman had rotated the building and you often looked at Sung-mi to see if she was truly okay with the situation...of course she was

nowhere near bothered as she flirted with your boss whenever she could and the year carried on like that , it was baffling to watch for a hopeless romantic like you yet you somehow found yourself picking apart your own appearance , Sung-mi's nails changed almost weekly you had observed , you didn't mean to be so invested in the woman so much and without much awareness and after much comparisons you found yourself at a hair salon , a nail salon , clothing stores

it was awkward for you to have all that unwanted attention on you , you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good to not only be seen by just your coworkers in your general department as you found yourself sat in a bar with your new set of fiends who simply decided that they liked your hair and made you a fourth wheel to their thriving group , as if that was not shoking enough Jaehoon from the finance deparment had poured his heart to you asking ou to go out with him

your friends encouraged it and you didn't see a reason to not give this a chance

although not strangers Jaehoon and yourself had not talked about much outside of work and him fixing casually fixing and lending you some notes in the boardroom meetings when you just happened to find yourself sat next to him on multiple occasions

coffee dates , flower boquets , dinner dates , he was growing on you and as the thought of Taehyung turned a distant discomfort when you held hands with Jaehoon and acceped him as your boyfriend.

things with Jae were easy , he was a sweetheart and he gave you everying you felt undeserving off , his job position was no doubt far higher than yours with office hours a bit more demanding than yours and yet none of that could ever keep him from making time for you

without a clear reason you wondered if Jaehoon would ever have looked your way outide of that board room if you stayed the same

even when he told you about the fat crush he had on you from the moment you first entered that board room , an intern glued to Taehyung's side

''ha ,i even thought you were his woman at some point and so I backed up a bit''

''oh now ,why would you think such ?''

''wherever he was was where you'd be except for during the afterhours ".

it was really when he sarted going at it with seung mi that i put two and two together -

"that's why I got a bit bold over the past few months and started to sit next to you in the boardroom

I couldn't bare being anymore far from you ."

your throat ran dry , his words triggering something so raw yet so unidentified in you

that part about Taehyung

''w..what?''

''yeah , I really was shamelessly flirting with you back then -"

he tilts his head to look at your face laying on his chest and you meet his gaze halfway

"I wanted to kiss you so badly everytime I looked into these beautiful eyes"

and you gave in , tipping your head up and forward to meet Jaehoon in a romantic passionate kiss , with his help you end up on top of him straddling his hips and grounding your hips with no intention of letting this flame die down

except for the after hours

the words played in the back of your mind like a looped record taped in a foreign language

you want to ask so much but you don't know where you would start without putting your heartbreak on display , int the same sense you wanted to hear nothing about Taehyung , hurt preceeding anything that came after the name eversince he left you , abandoned and alone

you are not clearly sure what your mind is on as you straddle Jaehoon's thighs kissing him in a desperate attempt to keep him here , in the four walls of your apartment telling you everything that enables your selfish heart

his lips are soft even when they compete with yours for dominance as your hands work on the buttons of his shirt , youy fingers trailed down the man's sculpted chest on their way down to his unbuckled belt

you break the kiss but Jaehoon is too far gone as his tongue wets your neck in sloppy movements

you want to feel Jaehoon, give him all of you from your heart to every thought that crosses your mind but your eyes moisten at the caution presented with each of passing memories

what would Jaehoon think of you if he knew of the vividly daunting gaze , image of a particular pair of dark eyes making a cameo in your mind denies you

Like in this twisted mess you feel the need to save a part of yourself for Taehyung, held captive by those eyes

You owe him nothing, a tiny rational part of you should assure you of that above everything else, Taehyung betrayed you , he abandoned you without warning or regard for your felings and everything Jaehoon amongst many others had been telling you about Taehyung along with wshat you had witnessed cortesy of your own two eyes , should set you free once and for all

yet all you can think as you feel Jaehoon's mouth leave a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat is how Taehyung didnt't even need to like you back

if he already held such a reputation why could he not use you just like he did with all those people that others hinted at, why could it never be you

are you simply not woman enough , what does Jaehoon see in you

his tongue soflty trails down your collarbone , nearing where he just usually halts ,it has been nearly four months since you started dating and even though it was your fault that he never took it further or made a fuss over the matter he was incredibly patient with you which only fuels an insecurity or a few in this instance as your hands develope a mind of their own reachin for the buttons of his white shirt while you stay put in his lap , rounding your hips at a cautious pace with hope that you are at least making the man beneath you feel something

if you took it any further today , your current and fourth boyfriend would be your third sexual partner and it made you nervous to give yourself away for the first time to antoher man since your last relationship that ended in tears almost two years ago

your college career having not been the experience you dremed of after highschool

you had lost your virginty at a beer pong party after your friend you went to the same highschool with ditched you , loosen up she'd said.

you got tipsy and laid with the Campus flirt Park Jimin

of course you felt embarrassed with no evaluation of your skills left at hand with the guy being high himself letting yuo know that he was sorry for not remembering your name after you greeted him at the stairs

he actively avoided you since then

''he never beds the same girl twice ''

it was creepy that your roommate knew that but she often confessed her fondness of Jimin's rumored skills

skills you momentarily remember and feel embarrassed for ,you were never particularly regretful but you weren't exactly proud either

your second official relationship came in your sophomore year , Christopher , you stayed together for two years with him being your senior of two years ahead ,you coul thank the guy for your current aversion to sex deciding that maybe sex just wasn't for you

after he openly comapared you to the many of his encounters ''for the pretty face on you , you are pretty useless ''

he was rather vocal often sharing about his own aversion towad you sense of personal style

''you know us guys like ladies that invest a little into their appearances , a little make up to keep me interested''

he always made sure to praise himself for his ''admirable sex skills'' which you could only agree with him as he critiqued yours with his eyes rolling back at the height of his climax

of course you took his word and ran with it , your self esteem somewhere in the ground warming your grave

you started wearing makeup, tried for the fashionnova dresses but he would always have something to say

"what are you wearing and - oh dear what - is that supposed to be make up"

and you'd be back to your long skirts at the choice of words

"you make the most awkward slut I have ever come across, everything about this, -'

A hand would pointer scan your body before he continued

"Is just so off putting, I hope you haven't burned those old sacks .''

even when the guy cheated you took full accountability , the blame he put on your name reasoning as follows

''you pushed me to it."

you begged him, you'd do better

What were you even on about?

You swore to never inconvenience another again but you ended up committing to Joel days into your internship ,it was short lived when he ghosted you and you ended things glad to not have gotten sexual yet

you met Taehyung in the same year, your emotional attachment to him made you week in the knees, gave you butterflies and somewhere in between your legs you discovered the wonders of your clit , orgasms

and that sadly summed up your sexual history and with that being said...Could you possibly satisfy the man in front of you?

your palms are sweating and you think you are panicking as Jaehoon goes further, palms beneath your blouse while yours reach the top of his belt

you feel further guarded as he throws his head back to watch you and what you do next

"god you are so pretty- wait"

your eyes find his as you freeze in your spot and slowly retract your hands

it's like he could see the blazing questions

"no you didn't do anything wrong baby, I just want to make sure that we are on the same page... if you go any further I won't be able to hold back"

a hand goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and the safety you feel in this present moment is foreign for the position you are in

"I'm ready".

he gave you a kiss on the cheek before you would find your body laid on your back , your blouse open wide leaving a black bralette between your nipples and the hungry gaze above you

suddenly aware that this was the first time Jae saw you naked like this you move your hands but before they can get anywhere he lunges forward and starts kissing the plump flesh of your breasts exposed above your bra

his hand works behind you to rid you of the material while his mouth leaves kitten licks on your flesh leaving you you squealing at the pleasure

You help him take his shirt off as he undressed you so quickly and the next thing you know you are both naked, you scan his features and await the venom

you wait for the bad news, the creative synonyms to the words

'you are huggable but not fuckable sentences you have come to find truth in .

it never comes, his fingers trace your curves down your navel and down your folds that are eager for the foreign attention that his thumb on your clit presents

''can I taste you?''

a sensation so delicious that you momentarily loose track of your nervousness and mutter a yes at a whispered breath .

All you have done is lay there, almost out of it , your eyes glancing at the ceiling somewhat scared to look between your legs where Jaehoon's tongue probes on your opening, your fingers settled in his hair as a familiar knot threatens to break loose and your thighs dare to close around Jaehoon's head

"Ngggmn , Tae-"

and you let loose, twitching with the feeling of his tongue tipping you to an uncomfortable urge until you're pushing his head off your cunt

he is on top of you in a moment and you grab his head and go straight for his lips, you cannot help but want more when the tip of his member sits heavy and hot on your entrance making your breath hitch for the nth time and when he parts himself from your body to get a condom from his wallet you feel a mix of excitement and nervousness settling a tend in your mind

You feel strange, sex feels different from what you're used to even when he is so slow with his movements intrusion, like you could break if he went any faster but you prefer it this way, you have witnessed fast and you wouldn't wish to be there again if it posed threat to what Jaehoon gives you

With your second orgasm you cling tightly to Jaehoon with strings of nonsense going together with what you hope to be his name

'Jaehoon ' 'Jae' 'oh Jae'

You are too far gone when he smirks in appreciation and mention

"Look who finally remembered my name"

words that fly over your fucked out head as he releases into the condom inside you before laying there on top you while you get closer to sleep

Jae had lightly chuckled catching his breath and lifting his weight off you to lay on his side balancing by elbow

you turn to mirror him and in this moment you feel him , the slight ache between your legs remaining a remainder of what you just did , you stare dead into your boyfriend's eyes , you seem to be looking for something and when h opens his mouth your mind raves , the effect eveident on the widening sight of your eyes

''who's Tae?"

you once again found yourself frozen in place , unable to part your eyes from Jaehoon who looks at you expectantly

''what?''

he breaks out into a fit of laughter , his hand coming to caress your hair before leaving a kiss on your forehead

"god , I'm going to puch someone if you react like that -''

he cradles you into his embrace

''but just for clarity , there is no such dude right?''

you shook your head reassuring shortly after

'' you've got nothing to worry about'' .

oh how hilarious you could be

Jaehoon was a good man , you had concluded that much as the many months spent by his side suddenly turned into a full year void of the usual flaws in your choice of men and even then you found yourself searching still of reasons to run away , to abandon your loving and caring boyfriend before he would eventually realize the shell of a woman you were , the real repulsive you that even with all this makeover the people in your office building still overlooked

you wanted to leave so many times , strange times when you spent time apart to do your respective jobs, times where your lives got too busy and you were suddenly so aware of how different the two of you were

times in thought that would be replaced the instant Jaehoon would be spotted in your peripheral view with your favourite flowers in one hand and food in another

at times you would eat in the office , have your mini dates in his department and each time he never failed to amaze you with how romantic he could get , even during those boardroom meetings he would still correct your notes so cutely and it amazed you how he could hold your hand under the table and still look so professional while you sat there flustered and blushing like an idiot .

The subject and memory of Taehyung had overtime turned into somewhat of a foggy sight , so distant yet so vivid at times

you had muted the company updates over six months ago to keep your conscience clear of anything that related to him , of course word of mouth was still a bit hard to escape but you worked around it , tuning your coworkers out with earbuds and by lessening your breaks to places out of the office , it was strangely exciting to you when you rushed up the stairs you saw Taehyung ascend on so many occasions without any clear sense of direction to take you to the rooftop

It was strangely lonely up there , so far above the ground as you stared at the spot you once recognized him from a couple of times and the thought makes you shed a few tears for whatever reason and it becomes a habit of yours to just go up the stairs whenever you get a bit agitated

it has been exactly 15 months since he left

another spring already approaching with the trees you stare down at in a distance collecting all your attention

the skies are nearly grey yet you are smiling looking at nothing in particular

he is almost sure that it's you

your hair is down , blowing in all crazy directions with the wind

it's you , he knows it's you when his own features warm up and take on an expression similar to the one you wear , even when the peaceful expression on your face belongs elsewhere it is all it takes for him to feel right at home

"do you think they will like me "

even when he makes room on his arm to accommodate the woman linking her arm to his his gaze lingers a bit longer , a breathy chuckle making it past the amused curl of his lips as he takes her hand into his placing a small kiss at the back muttering

"is it wrong for me to hope that they don't"

his playful gaze meets Hana's set one

"baby , I'm serious "

"there would be something gravely wrong with them if they didn't , besides , everyone has been so eager to meet you". he assures before peppering kisses at the back of her hand

that was all he could say as he led her inside , to maintain some professionalism he keeps a hand at the small of her back and as they endure the whispers and greetings on their way to the elevator

"you look amazing" he assures her like he knows what's at the tip on her nervous tongue

when the elevator doors open there stood everyone , confetti going up into the air , the green screen behind reading welcome back Taehyung , and Welcome Hana

he is Modest, shaking hands and giving thanks(es) and some strings of this is too much guys you really didn't have to

the non alcoholic beverage is poured out for everyone, leaving a bunch of glasses empty on the table

It is by random reasoning that Mirae takes a note of your presence and proceeds to question

"where did Y/n go "

"did she skip to go to Jaehoon again ?huh , that rude girl -"

"Sunbae , don't say stuff like that , it's really no big deal"

he just arrived and he is back to your defense

The room takes a slight awkward turn at the approaching sound of your heels making your presence known before so much as your silhouette emerges in hindsight , the sudden influx of attention shifts from Taehyung and Hana's welcome celebration to your entrance heads turning to your direction and conversations taking a pause to leave room for the usual whispers and some snide remarks

"If only we could all seduce some men of prominent position ".

Mirae.

you want to ignore everyone and just proceed to your seat but something, someone, two people stand flashy amidst the chaos and that makes your ears ring

grey three piece suit, jet-black hair combed backwards in style , you are genuinely taken back and your eyes remain the selling point as they drift to the shiny pedant linked around Taehyung's arm by association, a limp that is obviously not a part of crisp suit but it bodes so well you have to take a quick look

She stands confidently beside her boyfriend, radiating elegance .Luscious brown hair cascades down her back in soft, loose waves, framing her heart-shaped face that accommodates her bright, warm smile. Her piercing brown eyes sparkle with kindness, and her smooth, caramel-hued skin glows with a subtle sheen.

A fitted yet professional blue dress tat looks tailor made just for her highlights all the key points of her toned physique and you have to look away at the realisation that you have not said a word in a hot minute

wow

you offer your greetings, politely returning a small awkward smile of your own to the woman, a simply polite smile that remains even as you meet Taehyungs eyes in a split second that takes control of time

not much has changed, he wears a kind smile, it has nothing behind it , it is just simply polite and you realize for the first time in a long time

It was always you and you alone, casting a net of your delusions over this poor man you could as well have misunderstood

it's in this split second that your coworker hands you a glass and pours champagne for you that you cheers the couple and seal the thoughts of the past with a swig of the non alcoholic sparkles of your glass

In this instant you find yourself accepting and ridden in the closure you have only thought and dreamed of , in this moment you respect Taehyung as your work superior and have no intention to mistake his kindness for anything other than simply that

even so, for your own protection you shan't go beyond the mental arms length boundary set in place

You shan't assume Taehyung's kindness for friendship and you shan't harbour any feelings of resentment for never hearing from him for over a year

you have no right to , it was simply a wrong signal on your end because if it weren't and Taehyung was indeed your friend you would dissolve any sort of ties with him, that would make the workplace unpleasant but you're glad this is not the case.

......to be continued

😃

phew , this was quite tough to write, it took so long because I complicated things with sending Taehyung away but I ended up having so much fun with writing it 😭

I hope that you guys enjoy it , reblogs and written feedback are highly appreciated 💌🎀

Do Not Copy OR Translate OR Repost OR steal 😡

#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung bts #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios

96 notes · View notes