#weaved together (say it's forever) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tripleyeeet · 7 months

Text

WEAVED TOGETHER (SAY IT'S FOREVER)

SUMMARY: After faking your death years ago, Astarion finally finds you in Waterdeep.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,128

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, fingering, orgasm denial, sex used as a manipulation tactic, biting, blood sucking, descriptions of past/current abuse, Ascendent Astarion (feel like I need to tag this just in case), a whole lot of angst.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic gave me so much grief. I really hope my labour translates into something good because man, if it doesn't I might fucking cry. :') Also, fic title is inspired this bop!

MASTERLIST

You’ve never been particularly keen on parties. Favouring quite possibly anything above the stuffy insides of a ballroom packed with people, it’s a miracle that you haven’t already left Gale’s side for some air. To take even the shortest of moments to allow yourself some alone time.

Feeling the fabric of your dress uncomfortably stick to your skin, you can’t help but squirm at the thought of having to stay any later. Considering you’ve been here for a good few hours already, you’re tempted to ask Gale if maybe now’s the time to part ways.

At this point you’ve been well and truly shown off to the entire party, gawked at by countless of his old academic friends, so surely he wouldn’t mind if you up and left now, right?

Before you can think to ask, he’s already wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly kiss to the cheek. “I really do appreciate you coming,” he tells you, drunkenly swaying as he speaks, letting out a chuckle as you hold him steady. “I would’ve been terribly embarrassed to show up at such a renowned event without a date.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” You shoot him a smug look, watching him roll his eyes and take a sip of wine, debating whether or not to take the glass from him, knowing just how much he’s had.

“I mean it, you’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me in my time of need, so thank you.”

Despite the urge to play down his thanks, to remind him of all the things he’s done for you as of late, you merely take it, offering him a quick you’re welcome in return, knowing just how persistent a drunken Gale can get. How the man hardly pauses to breathe in the midst of a conversation —his endless string of words seeming to lose you almost instantly every time.

Even now, as he begins to go on some long-winded speech about the importance of your friendship, you’re already miles away, longing to drift towards the balcony that rests just across the room, taunting you with its open air and lack of people.

“Anyways, would you care for another drink? I’m in need of one myself thanks to the hole at the bottom of my glass.” Pulling you back in, Gale lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back while you merely shake your head.

“I’m uh, no I’m fine Gale. You go ahead and get that drink. I think I’m going to head outside and get some air.”

All he does is give you a tight hug before he leaves, stumbling across the marble floors, bumping into various bodies that suddenly get caught up in his inebriated storm, allowing you a moment to yourself.

You let out a sigh of relief then, turning your attention to your desired spot, gathering up the skirt of your dress so that you can race to its opening, breathing in the scent of fresh air once you step past the threshold.

Somehow once you’re out there, you notice that there isn’t a body in sight. No couples having late-night trysts in the corner or other lonesome individuals stood painfully reflecting on their night. It’s just you by yourself, walking slowly towards the railing, gripping it tight as you allow your mind to settle. To shut down for just a moment after being on for so long.

It feels like forever since you’ve felt this calm. After years of endless journeys —of fighting and running and, as of late, hiding away— you feel that old sense of ease wash over you. Like the waves of Waterdeep’s coast, they gently lap at your feet, rising and falling with each breath you take, watching from afar the bustling city streets below as they begin to die out for the night.

It reminds you of home, a bit. Of the nights you used to spend wandering around Baldur’s Gate, your belly full of the cheapest ale and your mind empty of anything other than the prospect of fun. Back then, you were always full of reckless abandon, constantly getting into trouble only to talk your way out of it not long after and unfortunately, you can’t help but begin to miss it all. The life before the war. Before you were taken in the dead of night and forced into a life you never wanted to live.

Things were simpler then. You didn’t have the scars of clashing swords or the kind of memories that often shook you awake each night, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Devoid of anything truly awful, all you had was the blissful ignorance of a fool. One hellbent on solitude in a world of constant interaction.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the people you’d met along the way you’d be jealous of that life. The one where you were seemingly untouchable, your mind vacant of regret and resentment and—

Before you can continue, you shake those same feelings from your mind, forcing out a heavy breath as you try to maintain the calm. The ocean of waves of Waterdeep pooling between your toes, knowing it’s the only way you’ll move on. If you focus on the positives —if you refuse to look back even for the slightest of moments you’ll forget all about those other lives you lived. All the chapters you spent haphazardly scribbling down, trying desperately to get to this moment.

It seems impossible sometimes, remembering how much shit you had to go through to get here. Not only did you have to survive countless wars involving mind flayers and cultists, but you also had to die to get it. And not die in the metaphorical sense, either. No, you had to literally die —to off yourself in front of countless people and hope to god the Necromancer that you hired actually turned up.

It was a whole process. One that you refuse to think about as you let out a scoff and raise your hands to your head, pressing two fingers to either temple to relieve yourself of the sudden ache that hits.

“Remember what we said about thinking,” you remind yourself then, allowing your eyes to slowly roll back, savouring the alleviated pressure your fingers provide.

Repeating the mantra in your head, you rub your skin and hum aloud, standing for a few more minutes as you listen to the sounds of the bustling party behind you. How the music swells into a crescendo of excitement, various strings and woodwinds all playing in time with one another.

Alongside it, a calming voice echoes over, rising and falling with each passing note that carries through the air to your ears. At first, it’s soft and silky —comforting in a way that wills you to drop your hands and take a few steps towards the entrance of the building, watching as a beautifully freckled bard strums her lute and smiles at the crowd.

Suddenly intrigued, you move to your previous spot inside the ballroom, spotting a rather awestruck Gale who’s holding onto two glasses of red, staring with widened eyes.

“She’s rather pretty.” You grin wickedly and bump your hip against his, hearing him grunt as he blinks and glances at you.

“I’m sorry?”

Taking the glass nearest to you, you then use that same hand to motion to the bard that’s begun to erupt in an upbeat chorus, her voice lowering to a wild growl as she kicks up her feet, dancing around the stage with some of the other musicians. “The bard. Fancy a taste?”

He narrows his eyes at you, a grin of his own peeling across his face as he shakes his head. “I think a conversation would suffice. Least, for starters.”

Biting your bottom lip, you jokingly wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake, pressing your face against his cheek to make obnoxious kissing sounds that leave him laughing and shoving you off.

“Unhand me, you harlot!”

“What? Afraid she’ll see?”

He opens his mouth, almost offended, staring for a moment as you wiggle your brows and take a sip of the wine. “Excuse you, that was my drink.”

“You got yourself two drinks?” You raise your brow.

He scrunches up his face in response before subtly craning his neck towards the other side of the ballroom. “No, it’s for Astarion.”

Your stomach sinks at the mention of his name, filling you with the kind of dread you’ve only felt one other time in your life. All at once it sends you into a panic. Your chest aching and your throat tightening. Even your hands, once carefully wrapped around the vessel of liquid seemingly shifts to a close, resulting in shattering glass that pokes and prods your skin before it falls to the ground.

Crying out in surprise, Gale’s previously mischievous expression quickly fades. Replacing it, an air of worry envelopes the both of you. As he reaches for your arm, allowing his hand to carefully slide down to view your newfound injury, you try to swallow and scan the room, picking apart face after face to no avail, wondering if somehow he’s already found you. If perhaps, instead of where Gale assumes he is he’s instead directly behind you, lingering like the creature of the night he is, waiting to strike.

A shaky breath escapes you then. Peeling away from Gale’s cautious grasp, you take a minute to blink and look him up and down, noticing the growing fear in his eyes. How his lack of understanding only spurs your head to whip behind you, to find more curious eyes staring back.

“Are you alright?”

The question comes from a voice you’ve never heard before. So, instead of entertaining it you merely turn back to Gale, suddenly catching an unfortunate glimpse of pale skin and ivory hair quite a ways back.

Immediately, it strengthens the dread inside, ripping the breath from your lungs as you press a nervous hand to your neck, realizing that somehow it’s already been years since you’ve last seen him. Months and days and hours all collectively bundled together, only to be completely ruined by this one moment.

As you stand there, staring —watching as he does nothing but the same, you feel your mind yelling for you to run. To discard whatever reservations you may have left to push violently through the crowd because, at this rate, it’s the only option left. Having already tried hiding beneath the freezing hands of Death himself, it’s obvious you’ve exhausted all other options. No matter what you do —what you say— nothing will be deemed feasible enough to grant you the escape you so foolishly desire. You’re too vulnerable now, standing there in your ballroom gown, bleeding from your injured hand, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as he takes that first stride forward.

Matching his step, you feel your body waver backwards, everything suddenly swirling across your vision as Gale reaches out to grab your arm, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m aware the breakup wasn’t amicable but maybe if you two just talk?” he suggests, his voice bouncing off your ears like a war drum, reminding you that Sufferance is coming. And that he’s dressed in his fanciest suit to mark the occasion, practically gliding through the room with knitted brows and frowning lips, pushing aside everybody who gets in his way.

“Gale, we —I need to go.”

Suddenly your palm, still filled with glass pushes against his robes, staining the fabric as your blood begins to drip, reminding you of his hunger —of the way he used to feed. How he took and took, ignoring your starvation for something other than submission. Refusing to acknowledge the withering of your soul each day you spent wrapped around his pretty little fingers.

As he shoves a woman to the ground, you can feel the emptiness within your stomach start to grow at the memory. The shuddering of your limbs driving Gale to look behind him, noticing the wild look in Astarion’s eyes as the crowd begins to part in fear, watching as he bares his teeth.

It’s a look that makes you instantly flinch. Closing your eyes, your shoulders rise to touch your ears in anticipation. Waiting for the moment to strike, you all but freeze in place, holding your breath as the steps of his boots draw near, reverberating through the air until they suddenly stop.

In fact, everything stops. The sound of him —the sound of the party. All of it falls onto deaf ears, creating a new fear that has you so terrified you merely stand in place until you eventually hear the clapping sound of a hand on someone’s back, followed by the swirling of your head again, forcing your eyes to jolt open.

“Oh, hello darling, didn’t see you there.”

Once again trying to breathe, you glance between the two men in confusion, watching as they share a lengthy embrace before Astarion’s pushing himself onto you. Gentler than expected, his arms slowly wrap around your shoulders as he does it, pulling you to his chest in a way that feels both frightening and familiar. A mix of home and hell encased around your nervous frame as he lowers his head to yours.

In response, you reluctantly raise your hands and place them on his back, applying a bit of pressure at the centre as you mutter out a muddled hi, looking to see that the commotion he so violently caused before seems to have evaporated into thin air.

“You’re awfully far from home, aren’t you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, ghosting against the shell of your ear as you force out a shaky breath.

“So are you.”

“I wonder why that is.”

You hum in response. Using the short moment of silence that’s granted to stare. To watch the way he looks you up and down, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk of amusement.

It’s obvious then that he’s thinking of playing tricks. Of taunting and teasing —using all the usual charming tactics before he decides it’s worth it to raise a little hell.

Because of this, you merely swallow hard and spare Gale a glance, watching him magic away the bloodstain on his robes before looking back towards the stage.

“How did you find me?”

Astarion reaches for your chin. Taking hold of it with his thumb and forefinger, he then waits patiently for you to share his gaze, looking your face up and down until he can finally see the fear in your eyes. “Does it really matter?”

It does, but you know he won’t tell you so you move on to another question. “Why are you here then?”

Immediately he scoffs, the smirk on his face falling for a split second. “Do you really have to ask?” he says, letting his thumb run across the length of your bottom lip. “Obviously, I’ve come to enjoy a spot of red with old friends.”

“Hm.”

“Among other things, of course.”

“Like?”

“Reclaiming my dead consort, for one.”

“And two?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he taps your chin. “Not sure. Depends on how the night goes.”

You’re not sure what to say then. Growing increasingly lost to the feeling of his hands and voice —remembering all the moments shared when it was just him and you and the power imbalance of ascension hadn’t yet existed— all you can do is pull him in a bit tighter.

Knowing that Gale is probably growing more curious by the second, you suddenly feel a sense of protection. An urge to get rid of him so that he’s no longer at risk.

Well aware of the power Astarion now holds within his grasp, you know it’s hardly worth it to try and get him involved anyway, especially considering how much alcohol he’s consumed. The poor man couldn’t be helpful even if he tried, so instead of asking you merely hold on. Tightening your grip as the other parts of you desperately try to rationalize just how much you’ve missed this. How even after years spent fleeing his hold —years of constant moving and hiding and watching your back for signs of his presence— his touch is still the only thing that makes you feel safe.

Which is a fact that makes you sick to your stomach, discovering that, regardless of being able to name a million reasons why you should be fleeing rather than falling, suddenly you’re able to name just as much for why you’d stay. Why you’d more than willingly follow his footsteps if he asked.

And not because you fear him, no. Despite having just been found out —despite that growing uncertainty of how you’ll inevitably be taken back— it’s as if your mind resets on impact. As he holds you close, speaking in obvious threats to your safety if you don’t listen, you can feel the defiance in you quickly dwindle. Evaporating into thin air as he leans away to give Gale an overly friendly smack to the shoulder.

“Gale, darling, you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy would you? Seems we have much to discuss.”

The hold he has on you tightens as he speaks, reminding you that such a conversation is anything but optional as Gale almost immediately buggers off, drunkenly mumbling something about drinks and fun before Astarion’s whisking you away.

Leading you through a crowd of bodies, you quickly find your hand gripping his shoulder absentmindedly. All splayed out, your fingers nervously caress the fabric of his doublet, feeling the texture shift beneath your skin, reminding you that he’s here. That’s he’s present and real and not just some illusion conjured up to scare you into coming back.

“Your entrance back there was…”

You’re not sure what to say anymore. Not with the underlying rage you can feel radiating off of him. Given the fact that it’s been so long, you’ve almost forgotten how to please him. To make his mind ease into those old spaces of pity where sometimes he’d grant you reprieve amongst the punishment.

Knowing this, he looks at you with feigned innocence, taunting you with his still raised lip as though he’s having fun despite slowly inching towards the blowout. “Did you like it? I figured, it’s been so long since I’ve last toyed with that little mind of yours, best to give it a proper show.”

He wipes his thumb across your forehead and watches you frown; your head suddenly darting back only to be ripped forward when that same hand tightens around your throat.

All at once the action leaves you gasping for air. As his thumb presses down on the centre of your neck, applying just enough pressure to pull from you a nervous wheeze as the two of you stop, he can’t help but lower his face to yours.

“I’d consider yourself lucky that the temperament I showed back there was merely an illusion,” he tells you, pressing his forehead to yours.

Swallowing to no avail, you feel the lump in your throat become pressurized by the growing frustrations in his hand. Prompting you to panic, another airless sound emits from your lips as your eyes begin to dart around, looking at all the curious eyes that seemingly look away the second you make contact.

You realize then that nobody cares. Whether it’s due to the intimidating presence he exudes or the potential word of mouth of his ascendance circulating the room, you don’t care, knowing it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s untouchable regardless. A force so unmovable that all you can do is pray that he’s merciless.

As he grips your throat amongst a sea of avoidant faces, unwavering in his efforts to patronize your past behaviours, you know then that this marks the end of your freedom. That from this moment on his control over you has been reenacted without discussion.

“Now, are we going to obey and have a nice evening or are we going to do something we might regret?”

Looking back at him, all you can do is nod, feeling that alleviation slowly come. Granting you the chance to breathe again, you cough quietly and reach for your throat, rubbing the pain away as you watch his previously aggressive demeanour fall into amusement, once again stringing you along.

At which point you effectively zone out. Still feeling his hand flush against the small of your back, it’s as if suddenly your mind becomes null, avoiding all thoughts as he leads you through the main entry of the ballroom, turning down a seemingly endless stream of corridors until you find yourself face to face with an ornate door.

Once there, he peels away from your frame and begins to pick the lock, wickedly grinning at you once that familiar click rings out, reminding you of the old him. Of how he was before the ritual, all doe-eyed and excited to experience the world and all its gifts.

It makes your lip pull between your teeth nervously, seeing him unbend the length of his back to look at you. To smirk in a way that feels so real and him that you almost forget that he’s changed. That, instead of picking the lock to loot the room and make charming little jokes at your expense, he’s doing it so he can get you alone. So that he can do unspeakable things the old Astarion would never think to do.

“Shall we?”

His voice rings out like a request even though you know deep down it’s a command, secretly telling you to hurry up. So, doing just that, you brush past him without so much as a glance, taking in the endless wall of books that greets you as you enter, opening your mouth in slight awe until the door closes behind you.

Turning back, you’re then given all but a second before he’s on you. Grabbing you with such violent desperation, a hand snakes around your waist, claiming you like he used to do when you were still devoted to being his. When this idea of free will was nothing more than a passing thought that barely grazed the surface.

Back when he was still yours.

Immediately, the familiarity of it wreaks havoc on your chest. Your heart, once filled with longing and fear now radiates nothing but need. Demanding that old sensation of flesh brushing against flesh as his other hand takes hold of the base of your neck.

The second you feel it, all thoughts are lost. Every previous reservation you once had melting into nothing against the hot feeling of your mouth pushing against his, prying open both lips to taste his tongue. To remind yourself of what it felt like to be wanted in the simplest sense.

Deepening the kiss, he moans and somehow pulls you closer, forcing your chests together as he maneuvers you backwards, stumbling over a raised edge of a rug before practically tossing you onto the floor.

“Years,” he groans then, pulling away to stare down at you with knitted brows and swollen lips, distracting you with that pretty face as he begins to rip the bodice of your dress. “I’ve spent years without this flesh —without this blood.”

His fingers pry at the fabric, peeling back the only layer you have to hide behind until you’re left exposed from the waist up, anxiously breathing at the sight of his hunger.

A sight that leaves you helpless beneath his grasp as he quickly leans forward, palming one breast while holding your face with the other. Beneath him, all you’re able to do is take each touch as it comes, savouring the uncharacteristic softness as his thumb brushes against your nipple, teasing it with gentle swipes as he goes in for another kiss.

Similar to his hands, there’s a strange feeling that comes along with it. As he nibbles your bottom lip, choosing to give you control, you know that something’s off. That instead of displaying the softest version of him you’ve felt in years, he should be punishing you with reckless brutality. Taking what’s rightfully his without so much as a thought.

Because of this, you reluctantly pull away, gasping for air as he hovers above you, still stroking your chest and face.

“Why are you doing this?”

Normally, such a question would result in some sort of punishment. A night of solitary confinement. Perhaps the silent treatment for up to a week.

Back before you realized just how fucked up everything had gotten he used to isolate you for things as simple as this. Forcing everyone around to ignore your every waking move, he found that loneliness was the key to your obedience. The only way to control whatever reckless thoughts entered your mind.

So, it’s surprising when he answers —when he lowers his mouth to give your lips one final kiss before flashing that smirk. “What do you mean?”

You raise your brow and move to sit up, leaning against your elbows as your face contorts in confusion. “Why are you acting like him?”

“You mean me?”

You open your mouth to respond —to fight against his words, knowing now more than ever that you should. Considering the door’s already open for conversation, you might as well get all your thoughts out while you’re able. Because after this it’s apparent, you’ll be stuck all over again, wasting away at the foot of a God who’s anything but forgiving.

“You aren’t punishing me.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

His hand explores your face, swiping across skin that hasn’t felt a single touch since your departure. “There’s always time for punishment —for penance,” he tells you, tracing your features with featherlight strokes that have you begging for more as you push yourself upward. “Now that I have you again, there’s far more important things I want before I subject you to what you deserve.”

“Which is?”

He pauses for a while, continuing his ministrations in a way that has you forgetting why you left in the first place. Why, instead of subjecting yourself to the torment of his hand to feel the grace that often coincides, you decided to give it all up.

“I haven’t quite decided yet.”

It’s a simple statement, yet it holds far too much weight against your ears. As he speaks, your heart flutters in your chest nervously, reminding you that this thing between you is nothing more than an imbalance. A tipping scale so unevenly distributed that you’ve lost all hope for rebalance.

Because of this, you don’t fight him when he inevitably leans forward. Nor when he presses a slightly rougher kiss to your lips, biting down with a newfound vigour that splits your lip in half. Feeling the blood pool out, you hardly react when Astarion’s lips begin to suckle the wound, lapping up whatever spills through as he rips away the rest of your clothes, tossing it all aside.

Suddenly cold, you find your arms rising to hold him all over again. Wanting to feel the fabric of his clothes pressing against your bare skin, you grip him tight and groan, relishing in this moment. Enjoying the familiarity of it as something warm blooms across your aching core, fuelling the need for your hips to slightly buck up, making him laugh.

Light and airy, the sound filters through your mouth like smoke, taking hold of your lungs in a way that leaves you addicted. Wanting to chase that past feeling, your hands swiftly lower to his waist, your fingers tucking themselves under his clothes to touch the texture of his scar —to feel the old him amongst all the new.

Realizing this, his movements become suddenly erratic. Forcing himself up with a grin, he then begins to quickly trail down your body, pressing his mouth to every exposed bit within his sightline, making sure to glance up at your heavy eyes and parted lips along the way.

“Mm, still as desperate as ever, my little consort,” he tuts.

Between the kisses he places to your freshly bruised flesh, he releases another laugh that lingers in your mind, further reminding you of him. Of the man you fell in love with. Of the man who swiftly slips between your thighs with little notice, raising the backs to rest against his shoulders.

A sound of shock escapes your lips at the new position, craning your neck to watch him latch onto your inner thigh, suckling the plush through such a guttural moan that it forces your jaw to drop.

“Fucking hell,” you mumble then, prompting his lips to curl into a grin before he’s biting your thigh, forcing his teeth through the tender flesh before you can even think to object.

It feels better than you remember. Almost like a hot flash of pleasure before that familiar coldness kicks in, numbing the space that he suckles with haste. As his lips hollow out to drink whatever he can get, you feel his hand slip against your entrance, knuckles grazing the outer folds of your sex just right.

Bucking your hips again, you feel his movements become one. Each time his tongue licks up, his fingers raise to the top of your cunt, flowing back down in such delicious unison you’re already ready to submit. To surrender yourself to whatever pleasures might await through the pain of your punishment.

So much so that you’re already begging for it. Through gasps that barely hit his ears, your voice whines for more. For more pressure or movement or frankly, whatever the hell he’s willing to give despite how undeserving you are.

“Please, Astarion.”

The moment he hears that little please he’s pulling away, grinning at you with teeth and tongue all covered in your blood.

“I’m sorry, you want me to please you?”

He gently pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling the ends ever so slightly while keeping them still, watching as you press your lips together, unable to speak.

“To pleasure you?”

Slowly, he angles his head to suck your thigh again, dragging a fresh wave of blood through his hungry lips before shifting towards your cunt and licking a tentative strip directly above his fingers.

“To taste you, perhaps?”

His voice is low, droning on in that teasing way that has you looking down annoyed, taking in the way he goes back and forth, debating whether or not to relent. To give in to the indulgence, watching you squirm beneath him. Forcing you to stir in your own prolonged pleasure until he all but sits back up, digging his fingers into the holes in your thigh, telling you you’ll get what you deserve once you’ve come back home.

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#weaved together (say it's forever)#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #ascended astarion #summer writes

515 notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gender neutral human crush putting a flower ring on their left ring finger because it fits? They took a moment to realise that they're also wearing their flower ring on their left hand which they thought it's like they're married to him 😳

This is so cute, I can’t :,)

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion -

~ Astarion didn’t really pay much mind to whatever you were making with flowers

~ So far, he’d relented to you making him a flower crown, a bracelet, even a clumsily put together necklace out of the daisy patch near the camp

~ When you finally managed to make two rings, you were more preoccupied with whether Astarion’s would fit rather than what finger you had put your own on

~ Astarion held out his left hand when you asked, continuing to read his book when you slipped the ring over his finger

~ When you were done, he looked over it approvingly before looking at the band on your own left ring finger.

~ You realized what he too had noticed, hiding your blushing face as he smirked triumphantly

~ “My darling, if you wanted to pin me down forever, you only need ask.”

Gale -

~ Gale was an excellent student, paying close attention as you taught him how to weave together flower rings

~ He wanted to make one for everyone in camp, quickly getting the hang of the craft

~ When you both had finished a set, he smiled and said you should trade, so you’d each have a piece of each other

~ You distractedly said yes, holding out your hand

~ You didn’t notice he had put it on your left ring finger until you were done doing the same

~ Gale seemed to have caught on before you, smiling brightly as he looked over his own ring

~ “Who knew proposal was so easy!”

Wyll -

~ Wyll loved taking small naps in the grass when the sun was still high

~ Today, he convinced you to come and sit with him in the field, relaxing on a small picnic blanket

~ You mostly started weaving flower rings just to keep away boredom, but soon began making one for Wyll

~ He noticed what you were doing and tried copying the movements, hoping you wouldn’t point out how messy his rings looked

~ He jokingly held out his left hand, lifting his ring finger for you to put the ring, not expecting you would do it

~ Not catching onto his joke, you did

~ The color drained from your face in embarrassment as you realized what you had done

~ Wyll would just laugh and kiss your cheek, sliding the ring he made onto your finger

~ “I’ll make a better one when I truly ask for you to be mine.”

Halsin -

~ Halsin very much enjoyed the time the both of you spent in nature

~ He’d tell you little things he knew about everything around you as you wound together flowers

~ You stared off by putting flowers in his hair, quickly moving to adorning all of him in the little buds

~ He just chuckled and let you, not pointing out that you had put the first ring on his left ring finger

~ He smiled, warmth filling his chest at your sweet mistake

~ He’d take a ring from you, slipping it over your own ring finger

~ Only then did it dawn on you what you had done. Halsin didn’t even give you a chance to walk it back before pulling you into a tight bear hug

~ “Now even nature binds us together for eternity”

Dammon -

~ Dammon loved when you played with flowers, usually it ended with him with a little wreath of nature around his horns

~ Today, he was hell bent on learning how to make the wreaths himself

~ All of his attempts were… lacking to say the least. Each one was tiny and thin

~ You assured him they were beautiful and that they were the perfect size to be a ring

~ To prove it, you quickly placed one on the first finger you got to

~ You didn’t understand why he blushed so deeply until he took your hand in his, slipping one onto your ring finger

~ His expression was so shy and sweet, you didn’t have the heart to admit it had been an accident

~ “I always knew you’d be the first to ask”

Rolan -

~ Rolan didn’t really see the point of flower rings, but the smile you gave him had him desperate to learn

~ He patiently watched you work, impressed with how quickly you could wind together a small ring

~ He picked up the finished project, studying it carefully

~ After a minute, he’d not as if he had decided something, asking if he could have it

~ You were so excited he liked it, that you didn’t notice that it was his left hand you slid the ring onto, not his right

~ He grinned when you did, demanding you make another one to put on your ring finger

~ “Perhaps these flower rings aren’t so useless after all.”

Zevlor -

~ Zevlor was a little hesitant to let you cover him in flower crafts, but how could he ever say know to your fluttering lashes

~ He sat with a huff, letting you drape little rings around his horns, decorating them beautifully

~ He held out his hand with a grumble when you asked to put a ring on him, his left hand first since you were standing on that side

~ You unknowingly slipped it over his left ring finger, distracted by the wreath that was coming undone on one of his horns

~ He chuckled when he noticed, pulling a small band off his horn and putting it on your ring finger

~ His would kiss your nose sweetly, enjoying the embarrassed blush that crawled across your face

~ “I would’ve let you pretty me up with flowers sooner if it meant this.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #rolan x reader #gale x reader #wyll x reader

879 notes · View notes

miroana · 9 months

Text

Elite moments in the Odyssey

A curated selection of my favorite details in this silly epic that changed storytelling forever. Homer is hilarious.

- Whenever anyone asks Odysseus where he’s from and he seizes the opportunity to lie continuously for several pages.

- Victims of his elaborate, entirely false backstories include: the cyclops, the suitors, the swineherd, the goddess Athena (who immediately calls bull), his son, his wife, and his father. Odysseus just loves lying

- Every time Athena makes Odysseus hotter and taller so he can rizz someone up

- His brilliant strategy to survive Charybdis’ whirlpool (cling to fig tree “like a bat”)

- When Telemachus casually drops that he is well aware that Mentor is actually Athena and she pretends not to hear and continues to act like she’s just some guy

- When Odysseus falls asleep while the Phoenicians give him a lift home, and instead of waking him when they reach Ithaca, the sailors just pick up the corners of his blankets to dump him on the shore and leave

- Odysseus subsequently waking on a random beach and spending several pages violently confused until Athena, slapping her forehead, has to appear to tell him what’s going on

- Penelope’s weaving and unweaving of the tapestry to get out of marrying the suitors. it’s so stupid that it’s brilliant

- When Odysseus goes to the land of the dead and Achilles and Patroclus appear together <3

- That time Odysseus and Athena sit down on a rock together to plot and scheme etc

- When the maid who raised Odysseus recognizes the gigantic scar he used to always brag about and he grabs her by the neck and tells her to shut the hell up. Elegant elegant man

- Odysseus’s dog who stayed alive for over 20 years so he could lay eyes on him before dying on the spot

- Every time someone says bro you’re kind of hot for a beggar and Odysseus says yeah I know right?

- When Circe was like oh dude I can’t kill you? Guess I’ll sleep with you

- “‘You bitch!’ retorted the ready-witted Odysseus”

- Penelope later calls this maid a bitch too

- When Odysseus avoids competing in the Phoenician games until one of the Phoenicians calls him weak and lazy. so he thoroughly wipes the floor with them

- The sheer number of boats Odysseus crashed

- The sheer number of times Odysseus started sobbing in public

- When one of the Suitors smacks beggar Odysseus with a stool and it takes everything in him to not go insane on them

- Every time Odysseus anonymously gasses Odysseus up

- And last, but not in any way least, the Trojan horse plan. We all know it. We all love it. But take a step back and think for a moment how delightfully absurd it is

#the odyssey #odysseus #penelope #telemachus #athena #the iliad #homer #greek mythology #tagamemnon

2K notes · View notes

onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which moving in together is a herculean task and jungkook teaches you how to fold his underwear.

> est. relationship, fluff, angst lowkey / wc: 3.2k

> warnings: mention of h!ckeys and or/l s/x (f. receiving), allusion to c*ckwarming and s/x

> in which masterlist!

note: who else will drunkenly research about men’s underwear and scroll through calvin klein’s website at 2am to write this for shit and giggles and self-indulgence if not art <3 as always i love hearing your thoughts thru reblogs/comments/asks !! 🥺

—

“pssst.”

“oh shit-”

jungkook looks up to find you standing by the doorframe of the walk-in closet, and the view instantly weaves a stupidly whipped grin on his handsome face. your hair is messy from sleep; your eyes are still half-lidded; and your lips are wrapped around the straw of the red water tumbler you’re clutching in your hands.

“baby! you scared me! what are you doing out of bed?”

“my bed escaped from me.” you mumble, padding across the wooden floor until you reach him. he watches in bewilderment as you fall to your knees and pull his arms out of your way. muscular body pliant underneath your dainty touches, he allows you to move him as you like.

“ahhh-” he produces a noise of enlightenment as you find a comfortable position between his legs, lying down across his lap. he’s forced to support the weight of your torso with his arm beneath your upper back, hand curled around your shoulder. “am i the bed?”

“mhmm, boo! i caught you. you’re stuck with me forever.” you go limp in his arms and dramatically press the back of your hand on your forehead like a damsel in distress, which elicits a chuckle from your boyfriend.

he bends down to pepper kisses along your jaw and exposed neck, plush lips brushing against the traces of love bites that blossomed on your skin this afternoon, courtesy of his friskiness. having always been extra sensitive there, the ticklish sensation makes you squirm. “that’s exactly what i signed up for.”

“oh?” you raise an eyebrow challengingly. “sure. let’s see if you can still say the same thing… three months from now.”

your fingers comb through his silky locks, taking a fistful and lightly yanking to pull him off you.

“as you were.”

a grunt tumbles out of his mouth when you change positions carelessly. in the end, you settle with straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, where you nuzzle your face and almost purr like a kitten due to the warmth that you’ve missed in his absence.

the process of transforming an apartment to a home together has been… exhausting, to say the least. you’ve had most of the furniture installed before you started bringing in your personal belongings, but how can a space feel so empty and so crowded at the same time? too many boxes, too many bags, too many things left to buy. the line between what’s yours and what’s his is blurring in your eyes, and this is only the beginning.

you thought dealing with jungkook’s self-admitted laziness would frustrate you at some point, well… which it did. however, it turns out that it is precisely what you need in this type of situation. yesterday morning, he successfully seduced you into letting him eat you out on the kitchen island. you reached the height of your pleasure twice in a row, nearly delirious as he was lost in untamed lust and moaned about how you taste, distracting you from planning out what goes in which kitchen cabinet based on dimensions and convenience. last night, he had to drag you back to bed at 5am because you ended up organizing your bookshelf for two hours instead of only getting a refill of water like you claimed.

“what are you even looking for?!” jungkook exclaims with a hand over his naked waist, clad only in his boxers, as he watches you rummage through four boxes in search for something.

“the easel!” you whimper, your calves breaking your fall as you slump back on the floor in despair.

“easel?” he squats down infront of a box beside you, scratching his cheek as his puffy and sleepy eyes scan the other boxes. “i don’t think an easel would’ve fit in here, baby.”

“it’s a mini one. the one i use to display my favorite book.” you pout to point at it standing in the second level of the shelf. he recognizes it as the limited edition book he bought you last year, and the flashbacks of him standing in line for hours to get it signed by the author are inescapable.

if hearing you say that it’s your favorite makes jungkook so ecstatic that he wants to break down into tears, he doesn’t show it. instead, he nonchalantly throws you over his shoulder, making a beeline to the bedroom. he yelps when you angrily pound at his back with balled fists.

“ugh, i hate you! put me down!”

he clicks his tongue. “bad!” he lightheartedly chides you, smacking your ass. “i’m cuffing you to myself! do you have any idea what time it is? you have class in three hours!”

“but, babe, i don’t want to attend!” you cry out, slumping as you grudgingly yield. “why do you have to be so strong?! stop lifting weights for fuck’s sake!”

at the time, you meant it when you said that you want to take the moving duties slowly since you have all the time in the world but… you can’t stand the clutter and disorganization for the life of you. at the same time, it pumps your veins with thrill, having an empty space and being responsible to breathe life into it with jungkook. out of all the life-altering decisions you had to make with your still developing brain, this is the biggest gamble yet.

you don’t know if you’re blinded by love, putting your trust in jungkook when he said that he wanted to build a life with you; or if it’s arrogance, having the trust in your ability to stand on your own feet again incase a match is thrown in a puddle of fuel on the floor. the latter is more painful to think about, quite frankly. just because you can, doesn’t mean that you want to. you have to. you have to. with bruised knees from praying for a little more time, you have to. the earth doesn’t stop orbiting the sun when your house burns down.

either way, it’s too late to succumb to your inner monologue. the stuffed toys you own, including ones you’ve dearly loved since childhood, are scattered across the living room. the journal you’ve been sadly neglecting for the past two weeks is just freely lying on your personal study space. you’re here, safe in his arms, and if there’s one thing you’ll always believe in, it’s this. and you intend to make the most out of each day the universe allows you the right to be here.

“you can fall asleep like this? while i keep moving?” he whispers, wide palm soothingly running up and down the expanse of your back.

only if it’s you, you say in the back of your mind. “you can see for yourself.”

“psh. always gotta keep me on my toes, don’t you?” he smooches your cheek, and then once more, lingering and refusing to part away. you feel his lips curling up against your skin.

jungkook reaches for the tumbler you left behind on the floor, capturing the straw between his lips and plentily sipping until he deems his thirst quenched. he sets it aside afterwards, returning his attention to the laundry basket he purposely laid on the floor so he can easily reach inside. he’s been happily working hard on the laundry after you both agreed to wash the clothes you haven’t worn in quite some time to keep your closet clean and fresh.

a little hiccup though.

quickly and unsurprisingly, you ran out of hangers between his long-sleeves and yours alone. therefore, he’s solely focusing on the to-be-folded for tonight, which mostly consists of shorts, casual pants, underwear, and socks.

he inserts his arm in the laundry basket to push out the articles of clothing closer to the edge, grabbing the nearest thing and proceeding to neatly fold it over his outstretched legs. his white sweatpants lands on top of its designated pile, and then the same goes for your tennis skirt, as well as his ripped jeans, and everything else after that.

jungkook being jungkook, singing comes naturally to him after breathing and more than blinking. he hums, chest vibrating against yours as he does so, occasionally singing the lyrics in between because he means them. a tattooed arm protectively wraps around you to keep you glued to his body each time he leans forward. his careful movements, along with his mellifluous voice, fool your senses into believing that you’re being carried out by the ocean waves to the shore of dreamland.

your boyfriend freezes when one of your arm slides down his shoulder, an irrefutable evidence that you’ve fallen asleep again. you finally tired yourself out, he breathes out a sigh of relief. he cups the back of your head as support, eyes shaping into crescent moons as he giggles as quietly as he can after seeing your face.

“so fucking cute.” he muses, rewarding your cheek with another kiss before securely tucking you back into his embrace.

he carries on with his task to allow you to dive further into unconsciousness. he spends the next fifteen minutes folding the boxers that were still stuck inside one of his suitcases, patiently operating with only an arm. his tattooed one is still preoccupied with maintaining a protective embrace around you. shortly after, he decides that it’s time for you to go back to bed.

“there we go.” he says quietly to himself as he succeeds to stand on his feet, carrying you with his hands hooked around your bare thighs. you unconsciously tighten your hold around his neck and release a deep sigh of contentment in your sleep.

he kicks the door open, walking with light, deliberate steps across the wooden floor. he climbs on the bed, knees sinking in the mattress as he gently lays you down. and there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring in his chest as he covers you with the blanket, accompanied by the epiphany that he is doing this at 2am not because time has arrived to daunt him and he needs to leave your bed to go home. not anymore. whatever this is, it feels so fucking good. oh my god, he looks forward to spending the rest of his life feeling you breathe next to him, getting lost in how peaceful you look asleep when he randomly wakes up in the middle of the night.

he tenderly squeezes your arms as he leans down to plant a goodnight kiss on your velvet lips, sweet and loving. slowly, and with the smallest movements possible, he gets out of the bed to return to the closet.

“love, you’re not sleeping yet?” your tiny voice barely reaches his ears but it pinches his heart, even more painfully when he sees that your hand only managed to seize three of his longest fingers to stop him from walking away.

he sits down beside you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “i will in a bit, baby. i only have the rest of my underwear left to put away.”

you blink at him hazily, silent as you digest his words in your clouded mind. “you’re folding them, too?”

“of course.”

and with that confirmation, you eagerly inch closer to him. “teach me.”

“huh?” his forehead creases, eyebrows knitting in a state of confusion.

“teach me.” you repeat yourself, bordering on a whine.

“how to fold my underwear?”

you innocently nod your head as a reply.

“why?” he asks, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth because of your unusual request. but then again, he can’t say he’s much that surprised. it’s such a you thing to do.

“i can’t?” your lips form an adorably small pout, and you sniffle as your eyes water with unshed tears of drowsiness. “but you’re my boyfriend.”

fuck fuck fuck, he curses inside his head. his heart flips and drops to his stomach. holy shit, yes he is. it’s infuriating, how it requires you little to no effort to have him wrapped around your finger. the endearing sight automatically tugs at his heartstrings, urging him to cradle your soft cheeks in between his large palms.

“i’m just curious.” he reassures you with a chuckle, leaning down to press one more sweet kiss to your lips.

“we do chores together…” you trail off, nose scrunching when his brushes yours. you smile sheepishly. you’re relishing in the mere inches between you — how you can see that his pupils are evidently dilated, his brown doe eyes appearing rounder and bigger than they already are. “so i just want to learn how to do it right.”

you swiftly throw aside the blanket enveloping you when he voices out his permission with an “it’s so easy!”, cheerfully jumping off the bed. captivated by your unique charm, jungkook allows himself to be dragged away as a breathing, walking picture of pure adoration.

—

he finds himself sitting on the same spot on the floor, back comfortably resting on the cabinets now that you’re beside him instead of on him. your drooping eyes follow the every movement of his dexterous hands as he folds a calvin klein trunk on his lap, black with a white waistband. wearing an orange beanie of his you found stuck underneath the laundry basket, you obediently bounce your head as he earnestly demonstrates it with instructions.

“so you take this side and fold it over to the middle, and then! you do the same with the other one, so they’re folded equally like this.”

he briefly picks it up to show it to you from rim of the waistband, the two parts stacked and perfectly aligned.

“after that, you take the bottom and roll it over like… halfway? whatever, i just kind of do it by feel- and the final step… so you also fold the waistband here so you can tuck the rolled up part inside. it ends up looking this neat and compact, see?”

your gaze only flickers at the finished product, having seen what it looks like about a thousand times in his backpacks and luggages. “so these are called trunks… and those are called boxers?”

your boyfriend follows the direction your index finger is pointing at, revealing a pile of folded boxers sitting inside of his opened suitcase. he winces with his full set of teeth before he cracks up in laughter, the genuine curiosity you radiate is making his brain overflow with love and happy chemicals.

“right! those are more comfortable and breathable so i wear them at home, while trunks provide more support for when i need it, you know?”

“snug fit or loose fit this, boxers or boxer briefs that. you strip them off all the time to put your dick in me anyway.” you scoff, picking up another calvin klein creation from the laundry basket immediately afterwards.

a string of ditzy giggles slip past your lips. the light blue trunk was standing out among the neutral colors like a firefly in the forest, practically begging to be chosen as your first piece of work.

“i’ll do this one! you wore it yesterday. i love the color.”

his lips part open in surprise at your lewd and unfiltered response, a hand flying to his face to conceal the rosy shade that has begun to tint his flushed honey skin, many earrings collectively swinging and belly aching as he chortles. it’s embarrassing, really, how he still blushes despite having done countless sinful things with you. can you really blame him for being incapable of keeping his hands to himself when he’s so helplessly and hopelessly attracted to you?

he clears his throat, crossing his legs and moving to his side so he’s facing you. “go on then.”

you flap it against the air to straighten out the fabric, placing it over your thighs and meticulously following your boyfriend’s instructions step-by-step. you’re quiet as you commit yourself to the chore, floating in your little bubble of tranquility and concentration.

and jungkook is intently watching you with as much self-control he can muster. the urge to grab your face and kiss you senselessly is palpable, wrapping itself around his limbs like vines that have a life of their own, desperate to dip into the sun for a taste. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and he can attest to that to a certain degree… but dear god, its lack thereof?

there’s no sensible reason why the both of you should be spending your late nights in your new apartment doing stuff like this when you have an entire 55-inch television set up on the floor because you haven’t found the time and energy to attach it to the bedroom wall yet… and not to mention that jungkook had to write more batteries all types of batteries, tongs, and curtains as CURTAINS!!! in your little notebook of to-buy checklists because somehow, they never crossed either of your minds the last two times you went shopping for your remaining home essentials. his new gaming chair arrived this afternoon and he has zero clue where he will insert assembly time into his busy schedule. one of these days, you’re also bound to discover the plant namjoon left as a gift three days ago. he placed it at the balcony, and it’s only surviving due to the fact that it’s been a relatively rainy month.

although, that’s precisely what makes this moment so priceless and so grounding. you smoothly finish the challenge and sing “ta-da!” with a beam that causes your eyes to twinkle with a tiny sense of achievement despite your apparent exhaustion.

“oh?! looks perfect. good job, baby. goob job.” he praises you with a grin, affectionately stroking your hair. “let’s work together so we can go to sleep.”

his thoughtful words and action make you keen, coaxing the giddiness in you to bubble over. you playfully nudge his side as you haul the laundry basket closer. “i want to play. let’s see who can fold the most in a minute!”

“play?” his shoulders deflate as he sighs, battery running low.

“no?” your lips pucker up in dismay. “too tired, love?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he gives it some consideration. he shrugs. “what’s in it for me?”

oh, damn it.

“the winner also automatically wins the light fixture debate?”

in which you’re referring to your month-long dispute over which color of the cloud light you should purchase for your shared bedroom. he insists on the white cloud that has the white light because it looks like a thundercloud, and on the other hand, you’re fighting for the pink cloud with the yellow light because it looks like the sunrise or the sunset depending on its saturation and brightness.

“alright!” he blurts out, a surge of energy kickstarting his system. he snatches his phone, which he left in one of the empty shelves near him. “baby wants to play a dangerous game, huh? the stakes are incredibly high! too high! are you ready? to lose?”

your mood sours when he begins using his variety show hosting voice, confidence dwindling but determination fueled and burning brighter now that he’s in higher spirits.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, sure. ready to lose the white variation in my cart, bro.”

he smirks mischievously, his childish and devilish laughter echoing in the closet. “we’ll start the timer! in three…! one- go!”

“freeze, you cheater! i wasn’t ready! put that shit down!”

—

note: soooo, are you team oc or team jungkook? i will be keeping score 👩‍💻

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm to be added or removed :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

cupidbread · 3 months

Text

I Love You Always Forever

TOMMY SHELBY X WIFE!READER

Title inspired by the Donna Lewis song!

Thank you so so much for this request sweetheart. My apologies for being late to attend to it, I've been busy :(

THE NEW BARMAID in the Garrison stirred suspicion within Y/N's heart. Her gaze, like an insatiable hunger, fixated on Tommy, her husband, as if he were eye candy. There most definitely is something strange about her, nevertheless, Y/N regarded the interloper as nothing more than a desperate shadow, a woman who couldn't seem to fathom the ropes that bound Y/N and Tommy together.

As the clock struck 4, Tommy, enveloped in a tower of paperwork, leaned back on his chair. The door's creaking intrusion unveiled Y/N, her presence itself a cure to his icy soul.

"It's late, darling," she smiled, a melody in her voice that he craved to hear every second if possible. His icy gaze warmed at her disheveled hair, a white nightgown loosely hanging onto to her frame.

She approached, her legs immediately entwined with his thighs. Straddling him, she clung to him with an urgency akin to a leech seeking blood. "What're you doing, hm? I'm meant to be working..." he murmured, fingers gently weaving through her tousled hair.

"The bed is rather cold without you," she confessed, her eyes pleading. "Come to bed, my dear. There's always another day to catch up on work. For me?" A sigh escaped him, a surrender of her affections, making her eyes light up.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman." he admitted, sealing his words with a peck on her pouted lips.

The next morning, Y/N walked into the Garrison, ever so elegantly. The sight that awaited her made her blood boil. The Irish barmaid, leaning sticking out her bossom to Y/N's husband, served him a glass of whisky.

Suppressing her anger, Y/N approached with a tight lip, catching Tommy's attention. His gaze softened, focused solely on his wife as if she was the only woman on the planet. "Are you alright, love?"

"All good, dear. I was told to deliver a letter." She placed the letter into his lap, claiming a rough kiss.

Y/N rarely displayed such affection, in public of course. Reserving it for when they are home. Tommy welcomed it with no complaints, his eyes closing in pleasure. An irritating voice disrupted the intimacy. "Ahem! This is quite an inappropriate place, Mr. Shelby!"

Silence covers the pub, the tension palpable. Tommy, unyielding, glared at the interloper. "Excuse me? And when exactly did you get a say in what Tommy Shelby can or can't do, eh?"

Cutting off any response, Tommy continued, his eyes burning with authority. "The drinks are on the house. It's about time you learn how things work around here, or you won't be here much longer. You hear me?"

Stifled, she nodded looking close to tears as Tommy led his wife away, leaving a smirking imprint on her face as she looked back.

Y/N spoke softly. "You were rather harsh on her, Tom."

"I know how you feel about her, love. She's nothing compared to you," he assured, cupping her face and sealing his words with a tender kiss to her cheek.

Y/N smiled, turning his palm to place a kiss. "Lead the way home, Mr. Shelby. You're not getting out of bed tonight," she declared with a mischievous grin, their love a puzzle seamlessly fitting together, despite all the complexities they face, they face it together.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fluff #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

940 notes · View notes

eiightysixbaby · 10 months

Text

just some eddie filth that came to me late last night - 18+

cw: unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

riding eddie while he just watches you, hands folded behind his head, his expression unbothered. he has you bouncing on his cock so desperately, begging him to touch you, to give you more. you’re messily rocking your hips, strings of curses leaving your lips as eddie just chuckles to himself.

“c’mon, sweetheart, you can do better than that,” he huffs.

“eddie, please,” you whine, “please, I need more, I need you to move,” you brows worry together in desperation, your thighs burning with fatigue from how long you’ve been bouncing on him.

his hips don’t budge, his cock doesn’t rut into you the way you so badly wish it would, he just remains still. you’d been a brat earlier, letting some guy flirt with you at the store to rile him up, and this was eddie’s idea of a punishment. his reminder to you that you need him to make you feel good, the way no one else can. he knows it’s not enough for you to get off riding him by yourself, with no assistance from him or even from your own hand. the coil in your stomach aches, tension building but not enough, your clit throbbing with a need to be touched. you need eddie deeper, need his hands all over you, but you know if you try to get smart he’ll stop this whole thing altogether.

“please, daddy, please,” you’re close to tears as you beg. “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good, need you to make me feel so good baby,” you plead, pitiful whimpers falling from your lips as you sink down onto him once more.

“why should a brat like you get what she wants, hm? do you feel bad for how you were acting?”

“yes-” you choke out. “I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry. I n-need you to fuck me, eddie, please I can’t take it.”

fat tears are rolling down your cheeks at this point, trickling off your chin and down onto your breasts.

“aw, sweet girl’s gonna cry cause she wants my cock so bad? love when you cry those pretty tears for me, babydoll,” eddie taunts, but he finally brings a hand to your face to wipe a tear with his thumb.

“w-w-want you so bad, need you to make me cum” you stutter through your tears, wobbly lips curving into a pout.

eddie takes pity on you, deciding you’ve had enough as he finally brings his hands to rest on your hips. he guides your movements, urging you faster on his thick length. once your pace is steady, he moves his hips to match it, fucking himself into you right as your hips rock downwards. you cry out in pleasure, the head of his cock sinking so deep inside you. tears still stream down your cheeks, your eyes glassy as they meet eddie’s.

“hey now, sweet thing. daddy’s got you now, ‘kay? no more tears, baby. ‘m gonna make you feel so good,” he murmurs, wiping more tears away with the rough pads of his fingers.

your face presses into his neck, tits pressed to his chest as he wraps his arms around you, fucking you faster. one of his hands weaves its way between your sweaty bodies, rubbing your swollen clit in quick circles, just the way you like it. you’re almost screaming his name, his touch setting your body on fire after you’d been waiting what felt like forever for it.

“that’s it, baby, who makes you feel this good, huh?” he growls.

“you, eddie, only you- oh my god,” you moan, his cock relentless as it decimates your hole.

you’re so pent up, it doesn’t take long at all for him to make you cum. you gush around him, soaking the patch of curls at the base of his cock, your walls squeezing him so fucking tight as you ride out your high. he fills you to the brim with his release not long after, only to pull out and push his cum back in with his fingers when it starts to seep out of you.

“gotta keep every drop in there, baby, get you knocked up, hm? make sure everyone knows you’re mine,” he says, voice husky as his eyes rake up and down your body.

you give him a delirious smile from where you lay on his wrinkled sheets, nodding your head with a hum. shaggy curls tickle your face as he leans down to nibble at your jawline, peppering kisses on the bone, running his still-hard cock through your now slippery folds. his body wants more of you, animalistic urges taking over. the way you shudder when his cock nudges your entrance makes him think you want more too.

“hm, think you can handle another round?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

1K notes · View notes

rinniessance · 6 months

Text

BEST FRIEND'S GIRL ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x f!reader

nothing has ever been tempting enough for suguru geto to stab his best friend in the back - until you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. cheating, kind of manipulation, kind of dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, so so many pet names and name calling (calls you slut once), choking, dacraphyllia, spit, overstimulation, he doesn't pull out when you ask. satoru is toxic and suguru is a creep and a very bad friend in this one ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am christening my new blog with this piece of absolute filth .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱

being satoru gojo’s best friend is easy, it always has been. ever since suguru and satoru met in the elementary school, they've been inseparable, joint at the hip whenever they went. at times, no words needed to be exchanged between the two, a glance was enough for the duo to understand one another without missing a beat. and they always shared everything (and by everything, suguru truly means everything – his camera roll is a sin to be discovered) – that, until you came along.

geto remembers clear as day when gojo introduced you as his new girlfriend – he had to make sure he read the message he received correctly because when does satoru ever start a relationship without mentioning it to him before anyone else? suguru scoffs at his phone screen when he reads a text from gojo that he’s bringing “his new girl” to the party. “i think this one is special” reads his next message, and suguru laughs darkly. how many satoru’s special girls has he met already?

but when he sees you for the first time, oh when he sees you, all pieces of the puzzle come together. all of a sudden, satoru’s decision to keep you all to himself until he absolutely had to reveal you to the world makes perfect sense.

suguru thinks he’s never met as anyone as bewitching as you are, you have captivated him whole. the very moment your big doe eyes turned into tiny crescent moons when you smiled at him and extended your hand for a greeting is forever stitched into his brain, weaved into the crevices of his mind: it’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last memory he replays before he goes to sleep. even when geto slips into the realm of morpheus, his dreams are still full of you. damn your strawberry lipgloss, your citrus scented perfume and your tiny pink dresses that leave so little to imagination. the pants suguru has to wear when he knows satoru’s bringing you along are getting wider and wider – to his embarrassment, it’s getting extremely difficult to hide his boner whenever you (unintentionally) bat your eyelashes at him.

(he had to jerk himself off in gojo’s bathroom once when he came over for a movie night – you were wearing your boyfriend’s t-shirt and he couldn’t stop imagining what his clothes would look like on your body. that thought alone was almost enough to making him cum.)

thoughts of you torment his every waking moment – he checks your instagram every hour for any updates and stalks your old posts in the hopes he will dream of your angelic face again; he makes plans with satoru under the pretense he is bored and has nothing better to do just to shamelessly gawk at you the whole time; and he feels like he hits the jackpot every time you laugh at his stupid jokes.

once in a while, the realization that he’s down bad for his best friend’s girlfriend hits him like a tidal wave – he can feel it coming, see the rising signs of the shame foaming up somewhere deep in the darkest corners of the ocean that is his heart. and when it finally washes over him, he feels himself drowning in the whirlpool of emotions he is usually too tired to deal with.

suguru knows exactly what you see in satoru – of course he does. his best friend is handsome, rich, popular; despite what others might say, he is a great conversationalist, and he will never give you a chance to get bored of him. geto is sure his best friend only showed his best parts when you started dating – that is why he is twice delighted when you get to experience the withdrawal symptoms as a result of satoru gojo’s absence. geto knows this game by heart – satoru gets a girl hooked, spoils her with attention and then suddenly becomes withdrawn. “it intensifies the feelings”, he usually says. special girl his ass. geto doesn’t complain though. instead, he works on an opportunity to create a rift between you two because he knows he can treat you so much better.

suguru gives you his number (“just in case you ever need to know where satoru is”), and casually starts texting you from time to time. it’s always simple topics: asking if you’ve heard back from satoru, saying he hasn’t been responding to geto’s texts (when he knows perfectly well he spoke with the white haired man that morning); wondering if the two of you have any plans later this week (he knows you don’t – his best friend has been on a successful streak of being hot and cold with you for the past couple of weeks); making sure everything’s okay between you two. he puts invisible effort into appearing to you as a concerned friend, and it pays off when you finally start texting him first. geto doesn’t know if it’s out of loneliness or sheer desperation – what he knows is that he is one step closer to tasting what satoru has been too dumb to properly treasure all this time.

you call suguru out of the blue on a saturday night. him and satoru decided to throw a party, and he is currently smoking his second cigarette, trying not to stare too much at the back of his best friend’s head while he is flirting with a girl he is sure to forget ten minutes later. why does gojo even bother when he has you waiting for him at home? geto looks at your display name in a slight surprise – the two of you have been getting closer but this is the first time you called.

“hello?”

“hi suguru… uhm…” he hears a quite sniffle on the other end of the phone line. you have been crying. “sorry to bother you but would you happen to know where satoru is? he has not been answering my calls and texts, and i am just getting worried.”

of course he knows where his best friend is – not even 4 feet away from him, having the time of his life. but geto chases the opportunity when he sees one, and he realizes this might be the chance he’s been waiting for.

“no, i don’t, i’m sorry. but if you’d like, i can come over and we can wait for him? if you’re feeling up to having some company.”

the silence ensues, and suguru thinks that maybe he overestimated the level of comfort you feel with him. he is about to apologize when you softly speak up again.

“yeah, i think i’d like that.”

“okay, i’ll be there in 30.”

he gives satoru a quick excuse as to why he has to leave – white-haired man doesn’t even blink an eye and just yells at him to be safe. but safe is the last thing he is planning to be today. suguru has never wished for the ability to teleport more than he did now because driving to your place takes entirely too long. but, as promised, he is finally standing in front of your door 30 minutes later. his hands are shaking from the adrenaline when he knocks – your ethereal features bless him mere seconds later.

“hi,” you whisper almost breathlessly.

“hello again,” geto responds, and you shuffle to the side to let him inside. he’s been to your house before, namely for the horror movie nights where he can pretend he is sitting too close to you entirely for platonic reasons, in the “this movie is so scary i need to hold someone” type of way. yet, it feels completely different when your boyfriend is not here.

“thank you for coming. i hope i didn’t distract you from anything important but…” he can see the beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and fuck, he would be lying if he said his pants didn’t feel too tight for this situation. oh how he would like to make you cry for entirely different reasons, “satoru has not been responding to me and it’s getting a little too much to bear. as his friend, i appreciate your company.”

“anytime,” suguru breathes out – his brain is short circuiting and he is unable to string more than two words together. however, you don’t notice his slipping composure as you walk back to your couch and extend geto an invitation to sit beside you.

the silence only stretches for a few seconds as you press play on some movie. raven-haired man was about to say something to break the silence but stops his word vomit when he hears your soft sniffling. suguru decides this opportunity will not present itself again – he wordlessly opens his arms and gestures you to come for a hug. you seem unsure at first but then giggle quietly and carefully curl yourself into him.

geto has never been this close to you before – he can smell the scent of your shampoo; he can feel the softness of your hair and the smoothness of your skin where he is able to touch you; he can soak in the warmth your body is offering him right now. and all of that because satoru thinks he is too good to lose all of this.

“you know,” geto slowly starts, “maybe if he makes you feel this way, he is not a very good boyfriend.”

suguru knows he is playing with fire – but he would be a fool to not at least try.

“it’s not always too bad,” you respond back. there is an apprehension in your voice, doubt, maybe even little bit of fear. he knows this script by heart: you, pretending like nothing’s wrong by trying to concentrate on all the good memories gojo gifted you with, and him, always sealing the arguments with iron-hot kisses.

“yeah, i know. but don’t you think him making you feel this way is shitty enough? even if it only happened once, isn’t it already one time too many?”

“but he treats me so well,” you try to fight back and move to look him straight in the eyes. oh, that was a mistake asyour glossy doe eyes hold the beauty all the poets sing about. what was that saying? face that launched a thousand ships? yeah, he would willingly go to war for you. next words escape him before he can put a stop to his endless stream of thoughts.

“i can treat you so much better.”

he can see you gasp in surprise, making the most adorable face he’s ever seen. geto doesn’t want to hear what you have to say back – he is moving on instinct, animalistic hunger re-wiring his every nerve – so he kisses you, hard and breathtakingly, like he dreamed of ever since he first laid eyes on you.

you are startled, eyes as wide as two full moons, and you try to push himself off but he is persistent. suguru feels your hands curling into his t-shirt, and you cannot stop the moan slipping past your lips.

“you don’t have to be shy with me. it seems satoru has been neglecting you awfully a lot recently, wouldn’t you let me take care of you?”

“we s-shouldn’t be doing this, suguru. it’s wrong.”

“what’s wrong, sinful even, is to leave a pretty girl like you all alone. let me show you how you should be loved.”

before you can respond, suguru is sliding his hand down your shorts and feels your throbbing heat through the panties. you are not wet enough yet but geto knows he can change it very quickly.

“tell me, princess, when was the last time satoru fucked you? or better one, when was the last time satoru fucked you and made you cum?” suguru cups your sex through your clothes and grinds his palm on your clit. the mewl it earns him from you feels almost like honey on a sore throat – he swears it sounds almost divine.

“yeah, you like that, sweet thing?” he asks you, and you’re too embarrassed to say anything so you just shake your head. as your body starts feeling good, you stop caring how wrong it is: you cannot deny you’ve missed being treated like you’re the only one that matters. “you know, i don’t understand satoru. if you were mine, i would keep you under me the whole day. fuck you into this couch until i am the only one on your mind, and then make you cum again and again on my tongue and my fingers. would you like that, princess?”

geto’s honeycomb words make you lose any last reservations you’ve had about this whole affair. his fingers keep massaging your pearly bud – it’s been left without attention for way too long for your own comfort, and your own fingers do not bring you the same level of satisfaction as you got used to with satoru. so you kiss geto again, and climb on top of him, everything else be damned.

suguru kisses you back with a ferociousness of a starved beast – it’s messy and it’s loud, teeth clanking, wet sounds of your mouths moving in rhythm bouncing between the two of you, moans exchanged and swallowed. he is biting on your lip, hands squeezing your hips harshly – you’re sure you will see bruises there tomorrow – making you grind on him. you can feel the growing tent in his cargo pants, and that makes you feverishly hot.

“i will make you cum three times tonight, princess. first, you’ll do it on my tongue, second, on my fingers, and finally, i’ll let you cream around my cock. how does that sound?”

you want to respond back, say something, but words fail you for the -nth time today, the only sounds escaping you are loud moans, borderline on pathetic. suguru takes that as a confirmation and flips you into a position under him, your lips slightly swollen and eyes glistening with the previous tears. god, he cannot wait to make you cry for an entirely different reason.

he starts by capturing your lips with his again, rough movements of his tongue against yours. how many times has he lost himself in a daydream while you were around, watching you lick your lips clean, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any food? geto deepens the kiss and cannot stop the whine rushing out past his lips, immediately swallowed by you.

suguru does not want to pull away but there is something else he is dying to taste. his lips move lower, grazing the side of your sensitive neck – involuntarily, your hips jerks upward, your aching core starting to look for any relief, when he brushes past that spot in the dip of your neck igniting your nerves. you don’t try to stop yourselves from letting geto know exactly how he makes you feel. he keeps moving lower, removing your shirt and caressing the tender skin of your boobs, and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the perky nub dying for his attention. closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you revel in this feeling of body worship. your wanton moans become louder, and geto’s cock becomes even harder when he sees the look of absolute bliss on your face. his unoccupied hand goes to play with the other nipple, gently twisting it between his digits, pinching it just enough to spike your pleasure with pain.

your shorts are gone next, together with your light-blue panties that suguru removes in one swift motion. you are sprawled out naked on your couch in front of your boyfriend’s best friend – yet you fail to feel any shame. geto spreads your legs wider and is delighted to discover the prettiest view in the house: your glistening pussy all wet and ready for him.

“huh, what is it?” he swipes between your folds, spreading your slick all the way to the clit begging to be touched, “little cute slut only needed couple of kisses to get this wet? did satoru really neglect his little princess this much?”

“p-please… ah… don’t mention his name while we do this,” you say, eyes still closed, geto’s digits continuing playing around your pearl, not giving you the full stimulation yet.

“do what, pretty face? fuck? i am about to eat your cunt but you’re too shy to even say it out loud?” suguru laughs, almost patronizingly, and slaps your clit with his hand, earning a surprised gasp from you. you hide your face in your hands, or at least try to, but geto has other ideas. “uh-uh, no, you cannot hide from me. open your eyes, i want you to keep looking, doll.”

geto leans closer to your throbbing clit and spits – your view is obscene, yet you’re unable to look away. even as he languidly swipes his tongue between your spread folds and flicks it around your nub, you keep your eyes opened. your hands grab his hair, and geto grunts but doesn’t stop you. he keeps drawing slow circles around your clit, and you can feel the coil in your tummy starting to tighten. you would be embarrassed at how fast he is getting you to your orgasm, yet you fail to care.

suguru wants to insert a finger but he promised he would make you cum with his tongue alone. long flicks of his tongue along your inner lips drive you insane, slurping sounding so filthy, you might need to move places now – and when geto sucks on your pearl, suctioning his lips just at the right spot, he is bringing you closer and closer to the peak of the ecstasy you’ve been craving. his hands are hot to the touch as they grab your hips with almost punishing force, pushing you even closer to his face.

just as you thought this was enough to light your whole being on fire, geto starts pumping his tongue in and out of you, sloshing sounds echoing in your ears, making you burn hot. suguru is alternating between giving your pretty clit attention, tracing his tongue along your lips, and sucking on nerve bundle that sends sparks to your pleasure receptors, making you burn all that hotter. flatting out the tongue, suguru is running it over your clit and labia, before pumping the tip of it back into your wanting hole.

your moaning becomes louder and louder, grip on geto’s hair almost painful now but he doesn’t mind. looking back up at you, he meets your gaze – and can’t help but praise you for how good you’ve been to him.

“my cute bunny actually listened to me, huh? keeping your pretty eyes on me while i eat you out like this? i bet you enjoy the view.”

and you do, of course you do. the orgasm is imminent now as geto speeds up his movement, licking up and down. your breathing accelerates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your pleasure – until geto pushes you over. it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum, juices dripping out of you and down his tongue. suguru is drinking up every last drop, not daring to spill his very own elixir of life.

“fu-uuck, it feels so good,” you cry out as he keeps tongue fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs trying to close around his head to escape the ongoing assault on your poor cunt, but suguru’s iron grip doesn’t falter. you whine and try to push his head away, body starting to shake with overstimulation, but geto is determined – he sucks on your clit again and you yelp, seeing stars. he finally relents and gets up from his knees, kissing you again. you taste yourself on his lips, and you feel the arousal climbing up again.

“thank you for the best meal of my life. that was one, yeah?”

he doesn’t give you time to respond before he is caging your smaller body, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to bring you even closer while other teases your entrance. you try not to seem too desperate, hugging suguru around his shoulders and bucking your hips into him. geto chuckles darkly, licking your lips and gently massaging the nape of your neck while his digits explore where his tongue already paved the way.

the first flick of his digits on your clit is embarrassingly enough to start lighting up your nerve endings again – a hot feeling, something akin to a molten lava, spreads across your skin, sending the goosebumps running wild. you concentrate on geto’s face, so close to yours, and you are tempted to kiss him again. but he is moving away when you try to chase him, and the prettiest, most adorable pout is dancing on your lips. it makes him want to ruin you.

geto inserts the first finger without any warning, and you’re tearing up from the sudden intrusion – you’re lost in the mix of pain and pleasure that you don’t notice the beads of tears escaping the corners of your eyes. suguru leans close and runs his tongue over salty trails, cleaning you up.

“shhh, it’s only one finger. it’s not your limit, is it? i have so much more to offer.”

geto pushes in the second finger, and you have to grab onto his shoulders. you’re curving your spine into him, trying to guide his fingers to touch that special spongy spot inside your tight, hot hole. suguru’s fingers are slender and long – fingers that should belong to a pianist or a guitarist. and you are no musical instrument, but fuck, you would be lying if geto didn’t know how to play you without missing a beat.

“sug-suguru…” you say thought a whiny hiccup, “i want you to move.”

“yeah? you want me to fuck you with my fingers? on the same couch where you and satoru probably did the same thing?”

mention of your boyfriend’s name sends a wave of shame through you, and geto is quick to notice. before your brain can process the feelings of guilt, he starts pumping his digits in and out of you while drawing tight circles on your sensitive nub. still recovering from your previous orgasm, your body is sent into overdrive, accelerating into ecstasy in no time. if this is wrong, then why does it feel so good?

the squelching sounds your pussy makes around his fingers makes your cheeks heat up, blush kissing your face in a way only suguru should be allowed to do. this time, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, losing yourself to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure spreading throughout your every nerve. geto’s hand comes to tighten around your body, and the sudden cut of airflow is intensifying everything tenfold.

your body starts panicking when blood stops receiving necessary oxygen but the pleasure signals in your brain are setting off like fireworks. geto is pistoning his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt while squeezing his hand around your neck just a little bit tighter. breathless moans are escaping you as your body fights for more oxygen, not able to decide whether the line between pain and pleasure is blurring fast enough. suguru is curling his digits inside you and oh! eureka! he touches that sweet spot making white spots to dance across your vision.

“yeah, that’s it. you’re being such a good girl for me,” geto says above you but his voice is coming through a vacuum – the ringing in your ears becomes louder as your tummy is tightening up again. your mouth hangs open, a ribbon of drool dripping down your chin, and suguru thinks he’s never seen anything sexier. keeping his rhythm, he rubs your clit again, earning a broken moan from you.

geto feels your pussy tightening around his fingers, and he growls imagining his cock stretching your pretty cunt instead. he keeps pushing them in and out, massaging your nub with perfect pressure, squeezing your neck just tight enough, and mere second later, you’re cumming again. a broken moan that turns into a sob is everything you’re able to let out – suguru thinks you look so damn cute, he wants to take a picture. his phone is forgotten somewhere on the couch so instead, he commits to memory every single sound and facial expression.

he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, again, and you try to push at his hand to stop.

“no, common, i know you can do better than this. keep it coming, yeah?” geto says with a smirk, and takes both your wrists into his hand, keeping them close to his chest. you cannot do anything but sob as the waves of pleasure keeps crashing against your shores, leaving you to fend for yourself through the aftershocks of ecstasy. sweat is running between your boobs, down the sides of your face – you’re glistening all over, and suguru swears that’s what a goddess would look like.

“g-geto… please… i can’t take it anymore…”

“geto, huh? i thought we were on the first-name basis now.”

“i’m sorry…” hiccup “it’s just so hard to think…” hiccup.

“aw, i haven’t even made you cum around my cock yet and you’re already fucked out dumb? poor little angel.” you know he is mocking but fuck, why does it feel so good?

geto finally relents when you bit your lips a little too harsh and takes his fingers out of you. he brings them to your lips, and you suck on the digits without any further instructions.

“such a good fucking girl. open your mouth wider for me,” you do as he says, and suguru spits inside. “now, swallow.”

again, you follow his command without any deliberation and then open your mouth to show you’ve done it. geto chuckles and very gently slaps your cheek.

“that was two.”

you whine, thinking if you had to cum one more time, you might actually pass out. you try to pout, and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “i don’t think i can cum again, suguru.”

“nuh-uh, i told you i’ll make you cum three times, and i will. now come on, be good for me and turn around.”

“i want you to take off your clothes.” your simple request takes him by surprise, but he obliges immediately. his t-shirt is gone first, then cargo pants follow. you trail your eyes down and your mouth forms a perfect little “o” when you see the tent formed in his boxer briefs – geto mentally takes a picture of this moment – and you are left almost speechless.

“it’s not going to fit.”

“i’ll make it fit.”

you don’t dare to look away when suguru starts to pull his underwear down, and your suspicions are correct – he is big, maybe even too big for you. not as long as satoru’s but he is thicker, curvier. angry red tip already leaking with pre-cum, and you want to run your tongue along his slit.

“are you drooling looking at my cock?” geto chuckles, and you turn your gaze away in embarrassment. “aw, ‘m sorry, princess. let me give you something else to drool for.”

geto comes close and grabs you by your hips, moving you around. your forearms land on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat of suguru’s chest against your back, his heavy cock slapping your thigh.

“you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t get enough of you,” geto sounds out of breath, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sex-soaked scent. he wraps his hand around your waist while pumping his dick with the other. he spreads his pre-cum along his length, finally guiding himself to your waiting cunt.

the stretch is painful – even with all the prep suguru has done, it’s not enough for your tight little pussy to take him in comfortably. geto doesn’t give you time to adjust and pushes himself all the way in, until his balls slap against you. you squeeze your eyes, and little snowflakes of tears run down your cheeks, and your tongue darts out to taste the salty evidence. geto is moving his hips now, dragging his thick length in and out of you. your pussy is clenching every time he pushes against your needy spot, veins on his cock massaging your walls, helping you climb towards your climax again.

suguru grabs you by the jaw and turns your face towards him, losing no time ravishing your lips with his again. they are swollen – he could see how red they are – yet the kiss is hungry, as if geto’s appetite has not been satiated. he is so concentrated on kissing you, he loses his rhythm, and his dick slips out, making both of you whine in displeasure.

“please, give it back,” you mewl into him, and suguru’s losing himself in you – he is losing himself to you. so he gives it back, of course he does, thrusting his cock to the hilt, mushroom tip kissing your cervix. when geto sets a bruising pace, pistoning his hips with the punishing rhythm, you can do nothing but hold onto his forearm – he is the only thing tethering you to earth now, gravity has no hold on a force that is geto.

his slender digits start massaging your abused clit, and you can feel your toes curling again. he fucks into you fast and steady, and lewd sounds of his hips smashing into yours bounce around the four walls – the cacophony of squelching sounds your greedy cunt makes when it sucks geto’s cock fully and readily mixed with your wanton moans create the sex-induced symphony suguru never wants to forget.

you are completely lost to the storm that is suguru geto. he is everywhere, it’s all so much: his hand around your tit, squeezing the soft mound; his middle finger on your clit, drawing the perfect circles with purpose; his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the secrets between your teeth; and his cock being dragged in and out of your crying hole. suguru geto is all encompassing, and you can’t get enough.

geto pinches your nipple, and you jump in surprise while your pussy grips him even tighter. he keeps twirling your nub between his fingers while his mouth moves behind your ear, sucking the little sensitive spot that makes you shiver. soft pad of his middle finger is still playing with your clit, and every single feeling is becoming increasingly overwhelming. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine and white spots dance across your vision as his curved cock kisses just the right spot somewhere deep inside you.

you think you are on fire – everything feels feverish and suguru’s body heat surrounds you like steaky sauna air. tingling in your fingertips and all the way down in your toes intensifies, and you further dig your nails into geto’s forearm. he growls in your ear but doesn’t stop; he continues fucking you in the earnest, like it’s his life-long mission to bring you as much pleasure as humanly possible.

geto’s forehead is pressed against the back of your head, and he can feel his composure slipping – he has been edging himself for a while now, trying to make you cum with him but it slowly becomes all too much. he starts blabbering into your ear, hoping his filthy words will finally bring you over the edge.

“common, pretty thing, i want you creaming all over my cock. i want you to cum with me, can you do it for me, kitten?”

his words reverberate in every crevice of your mind, and your last orgasm washes over you like tsunami. your body is shaking against geto, tears and drool running down the sides of your face and mouth; your vision goes black and you struggle to breathe for a moment. your brain is connecting nerves usually left untouched as climax waves rush over you, making you twitch in the man’s hold. you’re crying and moaning his name – he is the divine presence you need right now, the only god that’s worth worshipping. you’re on the verge of completely losing yourself to pleasure as you think you’re going to faint but suguru’s voice grounds you back.

“shhhh, common, we’re not done yet. milk my cock, gorgeous.”

“no, suguru, i’m not on birth control, you have to pull out.”

“that’s okay, i’ll get you plan b tomorrow. or maybe even better, babytrap you so you have no reason to come back to satoru, hm? how about that?”

“nn-no, please…” but before you can finish your sentence, you hear suguru groan and you can feel him cumming inside. you want to be mad but the overwhelming ecstasy he keeps taking you through is overshadowing every rational thought in your head now. you cannot hold yourself anymore, has not been able to do so for the past 10 minutes, so you helplessly hang onto geto’s forearm while he fucks his cum back into you.

when he finally slows down and pulls out, the two of you are a mess – the room smells of sex and something akin to guilt, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for two long. he gives you a final kiss, gently massaging the nape of your back, guiding you to lie down. you’re unable to stay awake as suguru walks back to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, passing out on the couch before he even comes back. he smirks, looking down at your figure, and runs his fingers through your hair, hoping your head is only filled with the thoughts of him.

“that was three.”

#꒰ྀི penned by ange ꒱ྀི #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you

668 notes · View notes

misshoneyimhome · 3 months

Text

「2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

“I like waking up with you” I Nico Hischier (🌺)

Summary; While Nico Hischier may struggle with expressing his emotions, leading to occasional frustrations and arguments, a strong relationship can withstand any challenge.

Tropes & warnings; no warnings; strangers to lovers, couples fight; very mild-smut descriptions;

Other notes; so as I finished, I sort of realised that it doesn’t really have much plot - it’s just pure fluff; still hope it’s readable 😅 inspired by the lyrics from ‘PILLOWTALK’ by Zayn Malik 🤍

Word count; 1.7K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

You and Nico fell in love quicker than you ever imagined possible. In a way, it felt as if fate had brought you together on purpose, weaving your lives into a beautiful tapestry of love and passion. It was as simple as the fairy tales you grew up with; from the moment you met him on that crisp autumn evening, you knew your life would change forever. It was love at first sight.

Your love story began at something as simple as a charity event for the New Jersey Devils, right at the start of the hockey season. It was a night filled with glamour and excitement, the room adorned in the team's red, white, and black colours.

You were there as a friend of one of the team’s partners, however, as the event had unfolded, you suddenly found yourself standing alone, without the companion you’d arrived with.

Yet, in a mere moment, lost in thoughts as you gazed into thin air, among the buzzing crowd, your eyes suddenly met Nico Hischier's. His big, brown golden eyes captivated you instantly, sparking a connection you simply couldn't deny.

And to your surprise, Nico confidently made his way through the crowd in your direction, never breaking eye contact. And when he stood before you, his smile was nothing but magnetic.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth with a hint of a sweet yet rough accent. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Though his boldness took you aback, there was just something about him that had you drawn in. And before you knew it, you were engrossed in deep conversation, completely oblivious to the world around you.

"I must admit," Nico said with a playful glint in his eyes, "I didn't expect to meet someone as captivating as you at this event."

His words warmed you, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. "I could say the same about you," you replied with a soft smirk, completely unable to look away from him.

And as the night then progressed, you felt an unexpected strong and deep connection to the Swiss captain, as if you'd known each other for ages. So as the evening slowly drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that this might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.

To say the least, you were absolutely right. As the weeks passed and turned into months, your connection with Nico only grew stronger. And before long, despite your initial hesitation, you moved from being just good friends to something definite more.

It was no secret between you, that you’d had concerns, influenced by the idea of dating a professional hockey player with a demanding lifestyle and packed schedule. However, Nico dispelled those worries with his steadfast commitment to you. He didn't just start calling you his girlfriend sooner than expected; he proudly introduced you to everyone as his partner anywhere you went, demonstrating his dedication through every word and deed. In a way, it was quite remarkable how, despite the demands of his career, he always found time for you, placing your relationship above all else.

Because Nico's life as a hockey player did indeed involve frequent travel, rigorous training sessions, and the pressure of performing on the ice. There were nights when he returned home exhausted, his body aching from a challenging game. Yet, even in those moments, he never failed to show you love and appreciation. Whether through a heartfelt text before bed or a lengthy phone call while on the road, he made sure you felt valued and cared for.

And especially one aspect of your relationship that remained constant was the physical connection you shared. The chemistry between you was electric, igniting flames of desire that grew hotter with each passing moment. Your intimate moments together were nothing short of explosive, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated every time.

Incredible sex became a defining feature already in the very beginning of your relationship, the kind that would make the neighbours blush and the walls tremble. But you never paid any attention to the noise complaints or the curious glances from passers-by. In those moments of passion, it was just you and Nico, lost in each other's embrace, consumed by the intensity of your love.

During those intimate moments, you felt the deepest connection with Nico, as the barriers between you dissolved and you revealed your souls to each other in the most vulnerable and intimate way possible. Every time you lay intertwined in the aftermath, your bodies still tingling with pleasure, you were certain that you were in love.

However, naturally, challenges arose along the way. No relationship is without its flaws, including yours. Arguments erupted over missed dates or suddenly cancelled plans, tensions escalating like an impending storm. Yet, as always, Nico had a knack for smoothing over rough patches, turning conflict into connection. With just a smile or a tender gesture, he could transform the atmosphere between you from a war zone into a paradise.

It was a turbulent relationship, to say the least. Nico's ability to express his absolute joy and deep love for you was unmatched, his affection evident in every touch and whispered word. But beneath that outward display of affection lay a layer of resilience and reticence when it came to his concerns and fears.

And it didn't take you long to notice that he tended to bottle up his negative emotions, keeping his worries hidden deep inside. Nico was skilled at putting on a brave face, particularly as the team captain, even when the weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on him. And while you admired his strength and resilience, it also led to frustration and tension between you.

There were times when you wished he would open up, and share his fears and insecurities with you. However, whenever you broached the subject, he would shut down, enveloping himself in silence. In those moments, the distance between you almost felt insurmountable, like an unbridgeable chasm. But, no matter how bad your arguments could be, Nico never let you go to bed angry or sad.

One evening, after a rather heated argument, you sat on the edge of his bed, tension thick between you.

"I'm sorry, y/n," Nico said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to shut you out like that. Sometimes I just feel the need to be strong for everyone else, and I forget that it's alright to lean on you too."

His words resonated deeply within you, highlighting the complexities of his role both on and off the ice. You reached out, taking his hand and gently squeezing it as you met his gaze.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Nico," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'm here for you, through thick and thin. We're a team, remember?"

And a faint smile slowly grew and played on Nico's lips as he nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. "I know," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "And I'm thankful for you every day, y/n. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Navigating the highs and lows of your relationship required a delicate balance. Yet, through it all, your love for each other remained unwavering, and you were determined to face the challenges together, hand in hand.

In fact, maintaining this steadfastness was surprisingly simple; Nico never allowed you to even consider the idea of walking away. And truth be told, you had no desire to. Despite the ups and downs, everything between you felt pure, raw, and intensely passionate.

The past year had been nothing but a whirlwind for both of you, with highs of victories and lows of defeats. Throughout it all, you had been each other's support, standing strong through thick and thin. And with the off-season offering a brief break from the hockey season's demands, you cherished every moment spent together, aware that Nico would soon be back on the ice, fully engrossed in the game.

Then as the autumn leaves then began to change, marking the start of a new season, Nico's excitement was beyond palpable. He simply couldn't contain his joy at the prospect of another year filled with his beloved sport and the woman who had captivated his heart.

And as you lay together in the gentle morning light, Nico's words enveloped you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and affection. His vulnerability caught you off guard, as his declaration of love lifted your spirits.

"I like waking up with you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, echoing the sentiment you had shared countless times before.

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding through you at the depth of his affection. You gently reached out, brushing your fingers against his stubbled jaw as you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips.

“I like waking up with you too…” you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness.

But it was evident there was more on his mind. "I can’t believe I have you in my life... I love you, y/n…" Nico's voice quivered with emotion, his gaze locked on yours as if seeking reassurance.

And you couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled with love for him, mirrored in the depths of his gaze. "Nico," you whispered, reaching out to stroke his hair, "I love you too, more than words can express."

The moment hung heavy with emotion and possibility. Then, with a surge of determination, Nico voiced the question he'd been pondering for a while.

"Move in with me, y/n," he implored, hope and longing evident in his eyes. "Please. I want us to wake up together every day, fall asleep in each other's arms. Will you move in with me?"

And you couldn’t help but let a tear slowly well in your eye at the sincerity of his request, overwhelmed with love for the man before you. So without hesitation, you simply enveloped him in your arms, whispering your answer in his ear.

"Yes, Nico," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion, "Of course I'll move in with you.”

As you held each other in the gentle dawn light, surrounded by the promise of a new beginning, you knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your love story. With Nico by your side, you felt ready to face whatever the future held, confident that together, you could overcome anything.

#2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ followers celebration #nico hischier imagine #nico hischer x reader #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

332 notes · View notes

mizgnomer · 1 month

Photo

Behind the Scenes of Army of Ghosts/Doomsday (Part 20)

Excerpt from SFX (Sept 2014 when “The Doctor and Rose say farewell at Bad Wolf Bay in Doomsday” won 1st place in their 250 Greatest Moments in Sci-Fi, Horror, and Fantasy poll to celebrate their 250th issue):

SFX: Revisionists would have you believe that Who was always a show with emotional impact, but barring a couple of companion departures that didn’t really become true until Russell T Davies. His most heart-destroying contribution was this scene, in which a holographic projection of the Doctor talks to a tearful Rose on a Norwegian beach (actually Southerndown, South Wales), with the signal cutting out just before the slow-coach can declare, “I love you”. It’s a moment everyone can identify with because, as Davies put it, “There’s an echo of every loss you’ve ever had.” We’ve all had to bid farewell to someone we care about even if it wasn’t forced upon us by the threat of universal destruction and this moment perfectly encapulates the agony of break-up.

Russell T Davies: Thank you! I’m not often speechless, but that’s quite astonishing. All I can remember about that day is everyone rushing like mad to get it finished because the tide was coming in. Camille Coduri had to stand on wooden planks in case she sank. But what a cast - David and Billie are simply magnificent. All directed with joy, energy, and madness by Graeme Harper. I’m genuinely surprised that it means that much to people, after all this time, and thank you to everyone who voted.

David Tennant: I remember worrying on the day we shot this that as I was actually a projection from inside the TARDIS my hair shouldn’t be blowing in the wind. That seemed terribly important at the time and although we didn’t find a solution to it, it bothered me for weeks. Then I saw the finished scene and of course all that matters is the end of the Doctor and Rose’s story. Russell had weaved some glorious magic for two seasons and it all came together so perfectly in this scene that people still talk to me about it with misty eyes all these years later (and I suspect they always will.) Murray Gold created some heart-stopping music that accentuates the misery and Billie is just breathtakingly good. I feel very lucky to be standing on that beach, with my hair flying around, in amongst all these brilliant elements. Whatever else I do and wherever else I end up, this will be a moment I will forever be proud to look back on. Thanks for having us at number one.

Link to [ part one ] of the Army of Ghosts/Doomsday Behind-the-scenes posts or click the #whoBtsDoom tag, or the full episode list [ here ]

#david tennant #billie piper #doctor who #rtdedit #doomsday #army of ghosts #all these years later it's still true #such a heartbreaking scene #and it beat some classics in that poll like scenes from alien and star wars and blade runner #as well as newer scenes from avengers and harry potter and the matrix #I'm impressed #stuff i posted #whoBts #whoBtsDoom

219 notes · View notes

cry4tzu · 9 days

Text

Can you be my distraction?

Mina x female reader

Synopsis-let me forget him by you becoming my distraction

Warning-smut,mentioned of a man(smh)

A/n-i need more ideas

“ she can’t just cry in her room and hide forever”dahyun said looking towards the hallway, where Mina room is at. “if I see that idiotic ugly rat of a man again I will kill him”

“ I know that we all hate that man but killing him isn’t the option. We can only try to help Mina move on from him.” Jihyo said looking at every one of her members.

“But how would we do it if she clearly doesn’t even want to leave her room , let alone eat.” Sana said.

As they huddled together, debating their options, a thought struck Jeongyeon. She glanced at Mina room , her eyes sparkling with determination. "I know just what to do," a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "We'll take her out tonight. We'll show her that there are plenty of other people out there who would die for a chance with her." The others exchanged skeptical looks, but eventually nodded in agreement. They would give it a try.

As they approached Mina room ,and slightly went in. "Hey, Mina, we thought you could use some fresh air. So we were wondering if you would like to go out for the night. It would get your mind off of jakson." Mina looked up, her eyes red and puffy, but she didn't protest. She allowed them to get her ready and lead her to the club.

As they led Mina through the bustling streets, weaving their way past crowds of people, their laughter filling the air. The sound of it seemed to reach Mina's ears as if its from a great distance, and yet she couldn't help but smile in spite of herself. Something about the sound of her friends' laughter was infectious, and before long, a tiny spark of joy began to flicker within her chest.

As they arrived at the club, the members ushered Mina inside, where the music was loud and the lights were bright. Drinks were already waiting for them at their table, and as they sat down, Jeongyeon leaned in close to Mina, her lips brushing against her ear. "Just try to have a good time tonight," her breath warm against Mina's skin. "You deserve it."

Mina nodded, feeling a little more hopeful as she took a sip of her drink. As she sat there, trying to forget about Jakson and enjoy herself, she couldn't help but glance around the club, taking in the sights and sounds. she noticed a group of women sitting at a nearby table, all laughing together. Something about the way they were laughing, so freely and without any restraint, caught Mina's attention. She found herself staring at them, wishing she could feel that way again.

As she watched, one of the woman in particular seemed to catch her eye. Mina couldn't help but feel a spark of interest when their gazes met across the crowded room. She smiled shyly, feeling a flutter in her chest.

"Who's that girl over there who's got Mina all distracted?" Nayeon asked, giggling. "Maybe she should be over there with them instead of moping over that Bigfoot of a man .”dahyun reply going along with the teasing.

Mina blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. “ oh come on guys, it’s not like that…” she was going to finish her sentence but a little tap on her shoulder, made her turn around and look at that person.

"Hi, I'm y/n," she said, extending her hand to Mina. "I couldn't help but notice you've been staring. So I thought to come over and say hi." Mina felt a spark of electricity course through her as their hands touched.

"I'm Mina." She managed to get out, her voice sounding a little shaky even to her ears. Jeongyeon and jihyo exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the unfolding scene. Y/N smiled reassuringly, their hand still resting on Mina's shoulder.

“ well, nice to meet you Mina”y/n responded with a heartwarming smile.

There was something about the way Y/N said her name that sent a shiver down Mina's spine. They were so confident, so sure of themselves. It was intoxicating. Mina found herself wanting to spend more time with her , to get to know her better.

As they continued to talk, the rest of the club faded away, becoming nothing more than a blur of colors and sounds in the background. The more Mina listened to Y/N, the more she realized how much she had in common with this stranger. They laughed at the same jokes, shared stories about their friends, and even had a few embarrassing moments they could bond over.

“ so you saying, that the reason why you are here is because of your ex boyfriend jakson cheated on you” Y/N said, her voice soft but firm. Mina nodded, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She couldn't believe how much she was opening up to this stranger, but there was something about Y/N that made her feel safe, like she could trust them with anything.

“Well then,he's an idiot," y/n said, her voice laced with sincerity, "to let someone like you slip through his fingers." Mina looked up at Y/N, surprise evident on her face. "I mean, you're beautiful, funny, and smart...why would he even cheat on you in the first place?" She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

“ if I was to ever dated you I would never let a beautiful woman like you go.” her cheeks flushing slightly. Mina felt her heart skip a beat. This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her.

Before she could even respond,the music change . One of the girls started to play in the background. This is mina song. She couldn’t help but pull y/n to the dance floor before the girl even process what is happening. Y/n placed her hands on mina's hips and started to move her body with mina's. They danced together perfectly in sync.

The rest of the club seemed to fade away as Mina lost herself in the music and the feeling of Y/N's body against hers. Every touch sent a shiver down her spine, every movement seemed to be choreographed just for the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel so hot and bother by the way y/n touch her . Her touch felt so firm but gentle at the same time. The way her hands touches her body. She couldn’t take it.

She leaned in closer, their bodies flush against each other as their lips met in a passionate kiss. The kiss went from passionate to hunger in a few seconds. To the point Mina wanted more. No, she needed more.

Mina grab y/n hand. Basically dragging her out of the club. And into the taxi that was nearby . She told the taxi driver her house location. They didn't even bother to talk as they made out the whole way there. Once they finally arrived at her house. She lead Y/N to her room and slammed the door shut behind them. Where she slammed their lips together

"Mina..." Y/N panted, her breath coming in short gasps as she broke the kiss.

Mina let out a moan, her hands running through Y/N's hair, tangling in the soft strands. "I need you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice husky. "I need you so bad."

Without another word, she pushed Y/N onto the bed, their bodies tangled together. She felt Y/N's hands fumbling with her shirt, and then with her bra, finally freeing her breasts from their confinement. Mina arched her back, letting out a gasp as Y/N's warm mouth closed around her nipple. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the need growing stronger with each passing second.

Y/N moaned, her tongue dancing against Mina's sensitive skin, and then she sat up, pushing Mina's shirt off her shoulders. She tossed it aside and leaned down again, kissing Mina's neck, sucking gently before moving further down. Mina let out a low growl, her hips bucking off the bed.

As Y/N continued to kiss and nibble her way down Mina's body, she reached out to touch the other girl, tracing her fingers along the soft, smooth skin of her inner thigh. "Please, Y/N," she begged, her voice shaky. "I need you inside me."

Y/N smiled against Mina's thigh, her breath hot against her skin. She reached down, pushing Mina's dress and panties to the side, revealing her wetness. With a swift movement, she guided her fingers inside, feeling the tightness that surrounded her. Mina arched her back, her nails digging into Y/N's shoulders as she was consumed by the sensation.

"Fuck, Mina," Y/N breathed, her voice hoarse. "You're so hot and wet." thrusting her fingers deeper, feeling the heat of Mina's body against her hand. She could feel the muscles in Mina's thighs clench around her fingers, and it only made her want more. She leaned in, taking one of Mina's nipples into her mouth, sucking roughly as she continued to stroke her.

Mina cried out, arching her back off the bed. "Fuck , yes," she moaned. Her hips bucked upward, meeting Y/N's thrusts, desperate for more contact. "I need you to fuck me harder " she whispered, her voice shaking. The feeling of Y/N's fingers inside her, combined with the wet heat of her mouth on her breast, was driving her crazy. She could feel the familiar tightening in her stomach, the building pressure that told her she was close.

"you're so beautiful," Y/N breathed, gazing down at Mina's exposed body. She continued to thrust her fingers in and out of Mina's slick folds, feeling the smooth muscles grip around her. “My beautiful girl” She leaned in, kissing Mina's neck, sucking gently before moving lower to take a nipple into her mouth. She rolled the hard peak between her lips, teasing it with her tongue as she continued to stroke her.

Mina cried out, arching her back off the bed. "Yes, yes, that's it," moaning as her hips bucked upward, meeting Y/N's thrusts, desperate for more contact. She felt herself growing closer, the pressure building inside her.

Y/N looked up at Mina, their eyes meeting, and saw the desire and need in her gaze. She could feel Mina's muscles tensing around her fingers, and she knew she was close too. “Cum for me princess .” With one final thrust, she pushed her fingers deep inside, feeling the tight heat of Mina's body grip her as she came.

Mina cried out, her body shuddering as her own orgasm took hold. Her hips bucked upward, meeting the rhythm of Y/N's thrusts, and she arched her back off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets. As the sensation washed over her, she felt a deep, satisfying release that left her breathless and completely spent.

Y/N watched Mina's face contort in pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted in a silent scream. She could feel Mina's inner muscles clenching and releasing around her fingers, milking her climax. She slowed her movements, pulling her fingers out of Mina's body and kissing her softly.

Mina's breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her bearings. Her body felt like it was still humming from the intensity of the orgasm, and she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and closeness to Y/N. She reached up, running her fingers through Y/N's hair, feeling the soft strands against her skin.

Y/N smiled down at Mina, her eyes filled with love and desire. "Are you okay?" she whispered, tracing a finger along Mina's jawline. "Did I go too fast?"

Mina shook her head, her eyes still closed. "No, no, that was perfect," she gasped, her breath coming back to her in ragged gasps. "It was... more than I could have imagined." She opened her eyes, meeting Y/N's gaze once more. There was such tenderness in those eyes, such love and understanding. It made her heart swell.

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Mina's words. She leaned down, kissing Mina's forehead, her cheek, her lips.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "I've never felt this close to someone before." She rolled onto her side, facing Mina, and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her close. " even though we met a few hours ago. I want to be with you, Mina. I want us to be together."

Mina nestled into the crook of Y/N's arm, feeling the warmth of her body against hers. She sighed contentedly, her cheek resting on Y/N's shoulder. "I want that too," she said softly. "I want to be with you, Y/N."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Then it's settled," she murmured, kissing the top of Mina's head. "We'll figure everything out together. We'll make it work, no matter what."

They lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. It felt so right to be here with Mina like this, their bodies entwined, their hearts connected. The air in the room seemed to hum with an electric energy that only they could feel.

Y/N traced gentle circles on Mina's back with her fingertips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath her touch. She wondered what the future might hold for them. They'd have to face some challenges, no doubt about that. But she had a feeling that as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

She begins to feel her eyes getting heavier. The warmth of Mina's body and the rhythm of her breath lull her into a state of relaxation. As she drifts off to sleep, she was aware of Mina's hand moving up and down her back, soothing and comforting her. It's a gentle, almost hypnotic motion that sends a wave of contentment through her.

The sun is beginning to peek through the curtains. The sounds of clicking noises ( from taking pictures) can be heard from the room.

“Look how cute they are” chaeyoung said while showing the others the picture she just took of the new couple.

“Wait I can see Mina left boo..what the fuck Tzuyu why did you do that.” She said while rubbing her head that Tzuyu just hit.

“Stop being so inappropriate you snake”rolling her eyes as she walks away from sana. Smiling, sana follows Tzuyu “ oh come on you know you love me baby.” Which Tzuyu completely ignored her. Bitch this is not a satzu fic gtf

They all laughed at their friends antics before they decided to leave the room before the newly couple wakes up.

“They do know that their loud asses woke us up, right? We were having our moment here...” Mina groaned, burying her face into Y/N's neck as she mumbled her complaint. Y/N chuckled softly, kissing the top of Mina's head.

"It's fine, sweetheart. We've gotten enough rest. Let's go see what they're up to." She yawned, sitting up slowly and pulling the covers with her. Mina followed suit, stretching her arms above her head as she yawned as well.

As they emerged from the bedroom, they were greeted by the sight of their friends sitting in the living room, sipping coffee and chatting. The room was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, making Y/N's stomach rumble. "Hey, you guys," she said, yawning again. "Care if we join you?"

"Of course!" Chaeyoung answered with a grin. "We were just about to head out, actually. We were just waiting for you two." She gestured to a tray on the coffee table, which held a plate of croissants and coffee . "Breakfast?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Y/N said, sitting down next to Mina on the couch. "We could really use some coffee." As she spoke, she reached for one of the warm mugs and poured herself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma deeply.

"You two look so cute together," Chaeyoung commented with a smile, nudging Y/N playfully. "I'm so happy for you, Mina." She glanced at Mina, who was currently playing with a loose string on the couch cushion, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Thanks, Chaeyoung," Mina replied, her voice soft and shy. “But if you hurt her I will kill you” momo spoke up making everyone laugh. "I'm just kidding, guys . You two are perfect for each other."

The room grew quiet as everyone took a sip of their coffee, lost in their own thoughts. Y/N glanced over at Mina, admiring the way the morning light made her hair look like liquid gold. She reached out and took Mina's hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. Mina looked up, her eyes meeting Y/N's, and the warmth that spread through her chest was indescribable.

"Well, we should get going," Sana finally said, breaking the silence. "We have a photoshoot today, remember?" The others nodded in agreement, finishing the last of their breakfast.

As their friends began to gather their things, Y/N and Mina exchanged a knowing glance. They knew that they would see each other later that day, but the thought of being apart for even a few hours made their hearts ache just a little bit.

" I'll see you tonight, okay?" Y/N said, giving Mina's hand a squeeze.

"Mmhmm," Mina hummed, already feeling a little bit down. "I can't wait to be with you again." Her voice was soft and longing, making Y/N's heart ache.

The goodbyes were exchanged, hugs and promises to text later were exchanged, and eventually, the apartment was empty once more. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside her chest. She missed Mina already, but she knew that they'd see each other later. With a determined smile, she made her way into the bedroom, ready to start the day.

188 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 9 months

Text

x. oh, just to be with you

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: we're back to texts and phone calls. sorrowful!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

He's aware of everything.

How the porch creaks when he steps on it, the way the back door doesn’t quite meet the frame unless it’s locked. How the wind is knocking something else, far across the tall grass and fence posts.

Right now, his focus is on how his curtains don’t quite close. That they're letting the thinnest crack of moonlight cascade through his room. How the smallest luminescent slither keeps dancing in the breeze, yet it still lands perfectly on the propped-up photo strip on his dresser, highlighting the two of you, as though he hadn't committed them to memory.

He can’t remember the last time someone had managed to slide around his walls—bypass his common sense and begin weaving themselves into him. Javi also can't remember the last time he wanted something more than a win.

Then came you.

Not that he complains that you're the exception. He'll never complain when it comes to you.

Having people close has never been his issue. It’s letting himself fall that he’s forever found hard. He can be a lover who makes a night all about the other; he can be a protector, shielding and doing what is needed.

It’s the parts after when he feels he clams up. A portion of him constantly weighing up risks, calculating the damage he could cause—either by a choice he could make or others—long before the city that housed Escobar.

Javi knew his reluctance had stemmed from before he left Laredo, but it was now carved somewhere deeper in him. Something you managed to find with relative ease and cut out of him as if it was nothing.

All smiles. All radiance and fucking beauty, with a laugh that could make his lips curl even if his bones are aching and his muscles are tired.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that he’s back there, in the hotel room. Because even if you’d never been here, your room is full of him.

His bag of spilt-out clothes from your time together, slowly letting the scent of your perfume seep out across the room. Your jacket, hung on the closet handle, and the photos and sign you made on his dresser, all perfectly in sight.

you have nice handwriting I did try my best, sometimes I get lazy and letters blur together more. I like how you wrote baby Does this mean I’ve got the whole set now? Cause you like how I say it, how I write it, how I mouth it.

Even when he had known you’d needed to get some sleep, Javi had desperately wanted to beg you to stay up. Sending back a text here or there, already missing you so much more than he was sure he could handle.

He felt lovesick. Like the singer in all those songs that make people either stare at a loved one or bite back tears because they lost theirs. Suddenly relating to a sea of them he’s heard on the radio in the kitchen or hummed in the back of his pop’s throat.

Javi had been happy to see his pops, somewhat surprised he even came out of the house to greet him. But, as soon as his eyes landed on him, he became suddenly more aware of his old man’s age. Noticing the lines on his face, the ones that tell a thousand stories—not all of them he’s sure he’s heard. Curling into the hug he’d barely reciprocated before, unsure how to form the words to thank him for convincing him to go.

Naturally, he asks about you.

It’s more of an interrogation if he’s honest. He shows the photos, the ones now on his dresser, watching his pop smile as he continues to answer the array of questions, until he yawns for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.

“You should get some sleep, Pop.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Javi. Tell me more about your lady.”

Your lady.

Those two words stand out as if they’ve been illuminated in bulbs, twinkling and shimmering.

now youre back in reality you sure about us Never been more sure about anything, baby. just wanted to check You’re beginning to sound like me, worrying. left a mark on me Think that’s fair, you’ve left a lot on me too. Especially my chest.

“Tomorrow. Promise. The drive took it out of me.”

But Javi isn’t tired.

Somehow, he had suspected he wouldn’t be the moment he watched you leave.

For longer than he cares to number, he's struggled with it. Had developed an unhealthy live-able balance of it when he was working, something he managed to keep as a prize in his return.

Now, it’s different.

There’s an edge to it. As though he's now having to pay back the stolen sleep he enjoyed when he had been lay with you. When he slept with ease and not struggle. Leaving him feeling now like he’s in a lull, a dream. All aware, not in a daze anymore, noticing things he had never given much attention to before his trip out of town.

You had been so warm, so soft. His fingers gliding up and down your side, soothing you as much as it was him. But, you slept with ease. Falling almost instantly once you'd stopped talking, a little jolt and a soft sigh punctuating it.

Fuck, he misses you.

Thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut. Unsure how he's supposed to manage, and cope, until the next chance he gets to see you.

Till he gets to hold you in his arms, stare at your smile as it grows across your face or feels the light tap of your hand when he’s teasing you...

Something ugly curls inside of him. At first, soaked in sadness, before it shakes itself and burns bright with annoyance. Irritation. Anger at how unfair it all is.

How is it, after all, he’s given up—he’s fallen for the one person not even in his state? A person he had to say goodbye to hours ago, for reasons out of his or their control.

He almost snorts, unsure if it’s due to the tiredness or the reality that after all he’s faced, life would continue to be cruel and deal him such a hand. Tempted to get up, kick off the sheets and pull out the crossword from before he left town.

Javi doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes, shaking his head—to no one but himself. Because he can't do them without you now. A promise, one given with ease.

He hears the whisper of the wind, the rustle of the trees. Something needling at him that if he wasn't so broken, this would be the perfect amount of quiet to fall asleep to.

Now, it's not the loud of a Colombian city he misses now. It's how your leg slides over his, how your breaths feel on his chest—how you twitch, ever so slightly, as you first fall asleep.

But, it’s the quiet as to why he hears his phone vibrate, practically darting out of bed, knowing it can only be you.

why aren’t you asleep?

Because I can't sleep without you. Apparently.

I miss you too.

I really hate this. I even miss you digging your knee into my hip.

told you that you’d miss it once it was gone

I feel like telling you that you’re right will mean your head will inflate.

youre right

One day, right?

if I could make that tomorrow I would

You really missing me that much?

not enough words in the world to describe how much, baby

Gonna make me cry.

dont cry I can’t wipe them from here

So not wise for me to tell you I cried the entire flight home.

did the person you sit next to seem to mind

They didn’t say anything until we landed. Then promptly told me that I deserved better.

so they thought you were broken up with

I think I may have led her to believe that from the amount I was crying.

fuck you like me a lot

I like you a regular, normal amount.

I don’t think I like you a normal regular amount

That’s the tiredness talking.

you know it isnt

I feel the same. I really miss you.

I miss you too but you should try to sleep you have work tomorrow

Okay, but so do you!

ill be fixing a shed or a pen baby you have to deal with people

go to sleep and then tomorrow we can call as planned

You’d told him that you suspected the first day would be the hardest.

Not the goodbye (and that had been fucking painful) but the following day when they were apart.

Javi hates that you’re right.

It twists inside of him how much he loathes it—grateful that he gets to push some of his anger into repairing the side of the shed. Hammer meeting nail, again and again. Each time with more fury than is needed, only worrying after whether he’s done more damage to the shed post than pre.

"Mijo."

He doesn't find a judgemental look, but one filled with sympathy.

His pop not quizzing him, just handing him a beer. A cold one, droplets descending down the can, sliding across his palm and down his wrist—attempting to soothe the boiling blood in his veins.

“It’ll get easier.” His pop tugs his hat down, shielding his eyes, before staring off into the distance. “When me and your mama first began, we couldn’t see each other all the time either.”

Letting out a sigh, Javi grinds his teeth. A sea of biting comments lathered on his tongue, all set to pounce, to poison.

Instead, he kicks the ground, swallowing most of them back. “She wasn’t hundreds of miles away, though.”

“No,” his Pop says, clapping his hand on his back—both for comfort and likely stability. “But we didn’t have landlines, or tha' other thing you do on y’phone. The tapping."

The tapping.

He doesn't snort, even if it sits at the back of his throat. Burying it in the liquid that slides down his throat with ease.

"Come on, ‘need to head into town, and my truck is acting up.”

Javi doesn’t question it, why he’s the one sliding into the passenger seat of his own truck.

If he’d thought about it, he’d have asked why the truck was acting up or why Pop was driving instead of him. But he doesn’t—didn’t. Just let it happen, staring off as the shades of grass pass him by, fingers playing with the cap on the can, twisting and twisting it.

To fill the silence, he rolls the edges of the can around in his hands. Crunching the sides every now and again, making him wince from the noise.

Then, he finds himself staring at the fingerprints left in the dust from you touching his dash—eyes catching sight of a hair grip on the floor near his boot.

He’s rolling it in his fingers when they’re back on the road, silence smothering them until he watches his pop turn on the radio. As soon as it springs to life, it becomes desperate to try and cut through it. The broadcaster mumbles about heavy rain and increased traffic, but he’s lost in a sorrow of sadness all cast by the spell of a good week to care. The fog around him making it hard to see the wood through the trees, never mind the hope through the misery.

“Dios mio. More trucks passing through now since the bridge opened. Y’noticed, mijo? So many.”

“Hmm.”

Eyes fixed on the grip, the one more worn on one side than the other—imagining your face, the night when he’d watched you take them out, face fresh, one of his tees on your frame.

Then, because the world isn’t cruel enough, the song changes. The radio playing a game with him now, as well as everything else, as he lifts his head, trying to focus on the road. Hearing the soft thud of his pop’s fingers on the steering wheel, his jaw tightened as the lyrics washed over him. Faintly hearing you humming along with the chorus.

Because he heard the song in the diner with you.

Heard it on the radio one afternoon, then again in the bowling alley—how it wrapped its tune around the two of you.

“Heard our song today,” he says, fingers massaging his temple.

He's thankful his pop said he had plans, the quietness settling over the rest of the ranch.

Before he met you, he dreaded the nights he was left alone. His thoughts gearing up, ready to pounce. The minor differences he could have made if he took a step back and stared at the facts, how he should have noticed how deep the corruption was—how much Colombia was taking from him, bit by bit.

Now, he tries not to grin when his pop says he’s going out.

When he’s left alone, allowed full reign to talk as loud as he wants to you—rather than being huddled near the phone, whispering like a teenager.

“Our song?”

“Yeah.”

Javi can practically hear you smirk. “And how does that go, charmer?”

He’s not a singer. Not by a long shot, but he does his best. Humming the tune at first, softly singing the words from the chorus until he trails off.

You snort, before you try to muffle it in a cough.

“You tricked me.”

“Maybe. But, just because I wanted to hear you sing.”

Smirking, he pulls the phone from his ear—shaking his head—before replacing it back to hear you add:

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Fuck you, baby.”

Your laugh rips from you, hurtling down the phone right to his soul—making fireworks explode in his chest and warmth kiss his nerves.

Because now he can imagine what you look like. Likely head thrown back, eyes closed—nose scrunched a little as your hands grip onto something for leverage.

And it was beautiful. You’re beautiful—your laugh and your smile. Something he feels he should have said long before now. He’s about to rectify that, when he hears it merge into a sniffle—veering into tears and half-suppressed swallows before a noticeable little sob breaks through—as his throat dries instantly, closing.

Turning, he places his palm on the fall as he tries to keep his chest from tightening. The knot in his chest, the one he suspects is tied to you in some way, constricts, pulling taught around his lungs.

“I—I miss….”

You sniffle again, louder. “I've been looking forward to this all day,” you whisper, voice catching, words struggling to fall as sweetly as they usually do. “But, is it bad for me to say that phone calls aren’t the same now I’ve had the chance to be with you in person?”

Leaning his forehead against the kitchen wall, Javi wipes his chin. “Took the words outta my mouth, baby.”

He hears you chuckle, almost both heavily and heavenly, before you ask about his day.

He rambles because it’s easy too. You listen, lapping up every single thing. Hearing about his trip to town, his pop making jokes—trying, desperately, to crack through the mist that had descended.

“How was yours?”

Then you sigh, all tight. You tell him about Aish and her interview, before your voice softens as you begin whispering about the prep you’re doing for your interview. He’s about to comfort you, when you continue about the asshole you work alongside has been taken out for lunch by your boss and that you snagged your favourite pair of tights on a desk.

“But, enough about that—guess what I’m wearing?”

Smiling, he bites down on his knuckle, Javi lifting his head, groaning as he tries to think. “All of your clothes at once? Anything else might short-circuit my brain.”

“Won’t tell you then.”

“No. Please. Tell me, baby.”

He hears you move, and is almost sure he can hear you swallow. “You realise that you’re missing something, Javier?”

Fuck, the way you say his name. How it drips from your tongue. Laced in lust and swirling down the phone line to his brain.

He quickly tries to think of his washing, the piles he made—the attempted sorting. And it hits him. His eyes widened, head half-lifting, feeling his eye twitch.

“Fuck—“

“Yes. I’m sat in that. And underwear, of course.”

“Hermosa…”

His throat is dry, painfully so. Mind arranging an image of you from the days he spent with you. And fuck.

“Wasn’t sure this shade of pink was my colour, but I was wrong.”

Jutting his jaw, he closes his eyes—picturing the sight of you. The underwear he’d had the chance to peel off of you, the way it set against your skin—now, accompanied by his shirt on your arms. The buttons are likely undone, showing off more skin than he can currently process thinking about.

“It’s nice on my skin,” you whisper, all honeyed. “Be better on my floor.”

Clenching his fist, he bites his lip. “Baby…”

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

Snorting, he traces his teeth with his tongue. “You better. Now, tell me about the underwear.”

“Only if you can answer six across. Clue: now.”

Mouth parting, his jaw rolls to the side, eyes picking a spot on the wall. Thinking. And thinking.

“Want an extra clue?”

“An extra? You're spoiling me.”

He hears you giggle, low and in your throat. “It’s an Italian word. And, ‘I want to see you… blank—“

His eyes flick up, a smile spreading. “Pronto.”

“Correct,” you reply. “Seven words, silenced. You did this to me when you had your mouth on my—“

“Shushed,” he says quickly, fist clenching, trying to stare at the mark on the wall again, and not let the image of you populate in his head.

“You okay, baby?”

Gritting his teeth, he sighs. “You’re devious, you know that?”

“I think it’s your shirt. It’s making me… flirty.”

Grinning, he turns on the spot, back against the wall—head tilting up, eyes closing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too….” your tone softer, frayed at the edges. “I’m kinda glad I stole your shirt.”

“Me too. Means I get to see you to steal it back from you.”

“Off me.”

It comes out quickly—purposefully chosen, spilt.

Frowning, he opens his eyes. “What?”

“Off me. You’ll have to steal it from my body.”

Grasping the phone, breathing through his nose, letting out a murmured, “Fuck, baby,” under his breath.

AN: for all those wondering if they'll be together in person again, they will. i am a happily-ever-after kind of writer unless otherwise stated. but it was so important to me that they had a magical week, and then returned to their lives.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

509 notes · View notes

pascalssbabyy · 2 months

Text

Birthday Interruptions

Pairing: Javi Gutiarrez x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: You’re Javi’s assistant and organise a party to celebrate his birthday. However, amongst all the music and entertainment, Javi’s too focused on unwrapping his birthday present early, which of course, happens to be you.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, mdni, no use of y/n, no age mentioned, brief description of reader (she has hair that can be pulled and she also wears makeup), alcohol consumption, soft!Javi, but also slight dom!Javi, fingering, f!oral, P in V, unprotected sex, mirror sex, creampie, soft ending 🥹

I’m so excited to finally be sharing this with all of you! Javi Gutierrez has the warmest place in my heart and I had to write about him. Please let me know your thoughts and I hope you all enjoy this very smutty little drabble!

The biggest shoutout to @schnarfer for her continuous support and helping me with this! Forever grateful 💕

Javi’s been watching you all night.

And it wasn’t quick looks in your direction or subtle glances.

You’re standing in the corner of the room and the party’s already in full swing. Your eyes focus on the busy crowd, nervous palms smoothing out the creases in your dress and clutching onto your champagne flute. You slowly lift the glass up to your lips and take a sip, the mixture of fruity flavours and acidic bubbles bursting all over your tastebuds.

The sound of music and voices fills the open space. There’s a round of applause and laughter as it decorates the night sky, the clinking of bottles and the tapping of heels echoes in your ear drums, the scattering of fairy lights shining and displaying the beauty of Javi’s home.

You stay back and observe him while he weaves through the busy crowd. You breathe in heavily, smiling at the broadness of his back, his shoulders flexing and covered in a dark, forest green blazer, with his shirt unbuttoned underneath, revealing a glimpse of his sun-kissed chest. His hair was partially slicked back with gel, his beard neatly trimmed and soft curls resting on the nape of his neck.

You’re weak at the knees, unconsciously clenching your thighs together.

Lucas is standing next to you as you both delve into simple conversation. You’re trying so hard to concentrate, eyes reading and mapping out the movements of his lips to help understand the words that leave them, but you can’t. You need Javi. You have to have him, right now.

A warmth travels up your spine and the hairs on your arms stand up, the scent of vetiver and amber opening up your nostrils and filling your lungs. A large hand suddenly caresses your lower back, and you shiver.

Lucas’s eyes widen, raising his glass up in celebration. “Javi!” He says, his smile full and joyful. “Nice to finally see you, happy birthday my friend.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” Javi answers, also lifting his glass towards Lucas as they both take an honourable sip of their champagne. “Glad you could make it.”

“What, and miss this?” Lucas continues, moving his gaze over Javi’s shoulder and checking the crowd. “Place is looking great cousin, you’ve done a real good job.”

Javi chuckles, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “I wish I could say that I helped in making all of this happen but…then I’d be lying. It’s this one you should be complimenting.” Javi pulls you closer, his whole hand now wrapped around your waist and giving you a nudge, “Done all the planning and organising herself.”

Lucas raises his eyebrows and smirks at you. “She’s too good for you Javi.” He sneers, winking at you.

“She’s done an incredible job,” Javi applauds, “always working hard for me.”

Javi was never one for missing an opportunity to congratulate you on your efforts and hard work. He adored you; he knew how much of your life you put into him and his profession, and he loved showing you his appreciation.

This appreciation of course, would come in many different forms.

“You better have a birthday speech tucked away in that blazer Javi,” Lucas says, pulling you out of your daydream. “You know we’re all expecting one.”

Javi pauses, his hold on your waist dropping to the curve of your backside. “It’s funny you say that…” he says, his eyes darkening, “that’s the reason I came over here.”

He gives your ass a small squeeze.

“I do have a speech planned out, however…” He looks directly at you. “There are just parts of it I’m not too happy with. Thought I could run through my ideas with you.”

You nod with hidden urgency. “Of course Javi, that’s what I’m here for.”

A few moments later you’re both saying goodbye to Lucas and making your way towards the house, his hand gently ushering you through the crowd of people.

He stops in his tracks, lips ghosting over your ear.

“Go upstairs mi amor. I’ll be there in 5.”

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

Javi pushes the door open with a firm shove, his mouth attacking yours in a fervour and fingers threading through your hair as his strong frame leads you further into his bathroom, the back of your thighs hitting the marbled corner of his sink.

You gasp at the coldness on your fiery skin, lips parting and breaking away from his mouth. Javi is relentless, moving his kisses to your blushed cheeks and lower to your jaw and neck, sucking lightly on your skin that pulses rapidly against his lips and tongue.

Gripping onto his shoulders you throw your head back, giving him more access to you as you moan out his name and claw at his back. Your eyes flutter closed from his marking, his lips continuing to suck and teeth biting at your sweet spot.

You wish this could last the rest of the night, but Javi has people waiting for him, and soon, his guests will be wondering where he’d gone to. His absence away will lead to suspicion, and suspicion could lead with you both getting caught. It hurts, but this has to be quick, so with palms flat on his chest you force him away, fumbling with his belt buckle and frantic fingers yanking at his belt loops, his blown-out pupils watching you intensely.

“Javi.” You warn, “baby we have to be—”

“Quick,” He softly interrupts, “I know cariño, I know.”

Freeing his belt you pull down his zipper, your hand palming his growing cock over his boxers, feeling the hardening shape of him in your small hold.

“See what you do to me.” Javi murmurs, his lips skimming across your shoulder, “Can you feel how hard you make me. Bebé, you have no idea how badly I want you.”

Javi wraps his arms around your back, pressing his erection into your stomach and groaning at the relief it gives him. He’s so close, your body trapped between his grasp and the sink behind you.

“You’re so beautiful…” Javi says, his eyes raking over the top of your dress, the material tight against your breasts, hips and waist. “You look stunning in this dress querida.”

“It’s for you Javi. I wore it tonight, for you.”

He likes that. “Is that right?” He drags his eyes over your dress again and up to your lips. “You wore this dress for me? Is this my little birthday treat?”

Your heart quickens, and all you can do is stand there, motionless, staring at his mouth, licking your own in anticipation.

Javi smirks at you, cocking his eyebrows, his index finger follows the strap of your dress.

“Mmm, as much as I love this on you…” He murmurs, sliding the strap off your shoulder, the top of your breasts peeking out of the sweetheart neckline.

“I think it’ll be much prettier if I wasn’t on you at all. Don’t you think?”

You shudder.

He stares at you in wonder, his touch showing more of your bare and delicate skin. “You gonna be good and let me unwrap my birthday present?”

Yes. Fuck, please take it off.

Javi’s hands move to your half-covered breasts, squeezing them, swiping and pinching his digits over your nipples as they harden under his touch. He tugs at the thin strap that still rests on your shoulder, staring at your collarbone.

The material brushes lightly over your breasts and waist until it pools around your feet, kicking the fabric to the side with your heel.

“Fuck, look at you,” he gazes, taking all of you in, “and no bra too. You’re just begging for it, aren’t you hermosa.”

You’re already throbbing, body now completely bare except for the black thong that covers your sex. There’s a rush twisting in the pit of your core from the way you’re standing so exposed like this, so naked in front of him when he’s still fully clothed.

It excites you.

Reaching up to his blazer you remove it quickly, hungry eyes gaping at the spread of his chest and arms. You rub your thighs together, arousal seeping over your underwear and through the material, the fabric wrecked and sticking to your puffy folds and swollen clit.

You want him. You need him, now.

Javi’s hand follows the curve of your hips and inches closer to your anticipating sensitivity. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your thong, wetting the tip of his digits with your juices.

You clutch onto his shirt, eyes widening and squealing at the sensation, moans leaving your mouth in erratic sobs of pleasure. Javi opens you up with two fingers and slips one past your entrance. Fuck you’re completely soaked for him, the squelching sound of your arousal filling the room as he curls his finger upwards and adds a second finger, moving them in a slow and almost painful rhythm.

“Always so wet bebé. I’ll never get enough of how messy this pussy gets for me.”

“Please, Javi.”

His eyes close, getting lost in the warmth and slickness of your walls hugging his fingers. “Cariño, I know I said we were gonna be quick but I need to savour this. I have to taste you.”

Javi’s on his knees before you can acknowledge his words, his fingers moving your thong to the side and mouth delving into your folds, his tongue and lips sucking on your clit.

He grunts into your pussy and inhales your scent, the tip of his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves as he keeps your legs spread apart, your hands knotting and messing his hair as you rub your cunt on his face.

“You have the prettiest pussy,” You hear him say, his words muffled, “so sensitive bebé.”

He licks at your arousal that seeps out of you, collecting it all on his tongue, the tip of his fingers fucking you and stroking your g-spot.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, eyes moving towards the bathroom door. “I don’t wanna wait—I need more. W-want you to fuck me. Give me your cock, please.”

He removes his lips from you with a final suck on your clit, rising back onto his feet and lowering his trousers and boxers in a fast and hasty motion. His cock bounces up to his stomach, his length throbbing, his head red and responsive and his slit weeping.

“Tasted so good cariño,” He breathes, his lips and moustache wet and glossy with your arousal. “You want me to fuck you now? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes please.” You whimper, turning your body around and bracing your hands on the counter, opening your legs wider and bending your back, moving your ass closer to his cock. Your eyes watch his every move in the mirror.

He drags your panties down your legs before the tip of his cock notches at your entrance, rubbing his whole length along your pussy and covering himself with your sweetness.

“You know I love hearing those noises you make for me.” He coos, eyeing you in the reflection, “But I need you to be good and stay quiet. Think you can do that? Think you can behave when I fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“Y-yes Javi.” You choke out. “Please. Give it to me, I can be quiet, I’ll be so good—”

Your voice cuts off as Javi fills you in one deep thrust, his groin making contact with the curve of your ass. You gasp out in shock and surprise, eyes rolling back at the burning sting trickling down your skin.

“That’s it.” He praises, swirling his hips as his tip reaches deeper, “Feel me. Feel how much my cock fills this small cunt.”

Your breathing is quick, your walls pulsing around his length as you try to adjust to his large size.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Javi grits, fingers digging into your hips. “How am I supposed to last when you feel like this. You’re choking me baby.”

“Relax for me.”

He slowly pulls his length out when he feels your walls loosen around him, starting at a hurried pace and driving back into you hard.

It’s overwhelming. Your weight falls onto your elbows, the power of Javi’s movements causing tears to prick on your lash line, that coil in your stomach building up and spewing over.

“Taking me so well querida,” He purrs, “doing so good for me.”

Skin slaps against skin, hands gripping onto the marble counter as you lose yourself in him, your mind completely fogged and vision blurred by bliss.

Javi hauls you up and presses his chest against your back, holding onto your jaw with a firm grasp, directing your gaze so you’re watching yourself in the mirror.

“Look—“ Javi grunts. “Open your eyes and watch yourself hermosa. This cock fucks you good, don’t it. Can’t even speak she’s so fucked out. Shit—tell me how good I’m making you feel.“

“S-so good Javi. Feels so good.”

You fix your stare on the reflection in the mirror, your cheeks crimson and make-up smudged, your skin hot and hair knotty, Javi’s body continuing to move quickly and steady behind you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful. Keep your eyes on me and watch how I fuck you. Wanna watch you come apart on my cock.”

Javi focuses on where you’re connected, his mouths agape as he groans out, watching his cock plunge into your spent cunt, his dick saturated and glistening, your juices running down his thighs and wetting the coarse hairs.

“Christ it just keeps coming bebé,” He chuckles breathlessly, “Shit you’re so wet, fucking perfecta.”

Javi lifts up your leg and rests your knee on the edge of the counter, his cock delving even further inside your walls.

“Fuck—Javi!” You shout, hand outstretched and holding onto the back of his neck.

He bites your earlobe and you can feel his smile on your skin. “So much for being quiet mi amor. You gonna let everyone know who’s fucking you this good? You gonna scream it out of everyone to hear?”

You suck on your bottom lip, mumbling your whines and moans as they threaten to pour over.

He touches you everywhere. His hands kneading and circling your hard nipples, his tongue licking your salty skin, fingers threading through your hair and yanking it into a makeshift ponytail.

“That’s it princesa,” Javi praises. “I can feel you’re close, sucking me so tight. You gonna come for me?“

“Yes…,” You cry out, “M’so close Javi. P-please don’t stop.”

“Never bebé. Never going another day without seeing you like this. Go on, show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me.”

Javi’s holds you steady when he knows your body’s about to shake and fall, his strong arms wrapping around and fingers lowering to toy with your clit and glide his digits through your slick folds.

“Oh fuck…Javi—”

Your climax hits you without any warning, body trembling and legs weak. Javi’s voice is warm and soft, coaxing you through your orgasm. You watch him in the reflection as you release more of yourself all over his length, coming with a silent cry and gushing on him with more of your juices.

“What did I do to deserve you,” Javi murmurs. “Shit, you feel heavenly.”

Javi’s temples drip with sweat, his curls falling onto the dampened skin of his forehead. His eyebrows furrow and his nose crinkles in concentration, his thrusts becoming sloppy, your walls pulling him closer to his own release.

“Buena niña. Fuck, I’m gonna come.“

“Inside,” You whisper, “Come inside me Javi.”

With one last shove of his cock, Javi’s hips still as he spills himself inside you, his thighs quivering and painting your walls with his hot come.

He chants your name, his body going limp and collapsing on you, his voice wavering and fanning across the back of your neck.

Javi stays nestled inside you, lips kissing your shoulder blade, his hot breath fanning across your skin and hands rubbing up and down your arms.

He winces when he pulls himself out of you, his come leaking out and dripping down your thighs.

He licks the inside of your mouth when you turn around to face him, gasping out at the feel of his fingers inching between your legs, collecting his come on his fingers and pushing it back inside you.

“Come on,” He sighs, “let’s clean ourselves up.”

You both freshen up and get redressed, fixing your make-up and the mascara that’s smudged under your eyes. The clanking of a belt buckle is heard behind you as you thread your fingers through your hair, removing the tangles from Javi’s tenacious grip.

You haven’t looked at Javi, and when your head perks up towards him, he’s already staring at you, his eyes wide and smile gentle.

“Fuck you’re gonna be trouble for me hermosa. You expect me to go back down after that?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words, but you can’t help the smile that appears on your face. “Did you really have a speech planned? Or was that an excuse to get us away from everyone?”

“I do have a speech planned,” he laughs, moving towards you and placing a kiss on the side of your cheek, staring back at you in the mirror. “I just really needed to have you to myself, just for a little while.”

You hum. “Well it definitely worked.”

“I knew it would,” he teases, flashing you the most joyful smile. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you.”

Slicking back the curls at the front of his face you kiss his lips one last time.

“Never. Happy Birthday Javi.”

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal drabble #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez drabble #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez fic #javi gutierrez x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader

237 notes · View notes

1111jenx · 9 months

Text

Full Moon Child☾ through the 12 signs🤍

— In celebration of the ethereal Blue Full Moon in Pisces, it's undeniable that its extremely important to acknowledge the significance of one's moon phase. Born under the Full Moon? It's as if you wear the cloak of both the sun's radiant gaze and the opposing moon's sultry embrace, weaving a tapestry of conscious will and subconscious yearnings.

Every zodiac, with its unique essence, drapes the Full Moon with a distinct allure. Imagine, a Pisces Full Moon bestowing someone with a depth of intuition, as if they're dancing on the blurred line between dreams and reality, painting their world with artistic strokes and spiritual hues. Meanwhile, the Aries Full Moon might breathe fire into the soul, igniting passion, spontaneity, and a path-blazing spirit. To recognize and immerse in the rhythm of one's Full Moon sign is like unraveling a song of strengths, challenges, and harmonies within.

With that being said, wait no further, lets dive right in💜!

🌕 Full Moon in Aries Moon: Fiery and spontaneous but always looking for that equal. Quick to act but deeply feels the need for balance. Seems aggressive, but it's nothing but passion burning from within their heart. Wants to lead, but deeply needs that one partner-in-crime by their side. Brave and unstoppable. Prefers deep, meaningful connections over surface-level relationships. Would fight for what’s right, even if it means standing alone. A warrior with a sensitive core.

🌕 Full Moon in Taurus Moon: Grounded, but with a mysterious edge. A solid rock but don't mistake them for being mundane. Love luxury, but transformation excites them even more. These people see calm yet only they feel the storm from within. They're all about roots, but sometimes they crave to fly. Protective of their own, cross them, and watch the calm turn tempestuous. Charitable and loving, but not one to forget betrayal.

🌕 Full Moon in Gemini Moon: Forever curious, with depths people often overlook. Quick wit hidden behind a facade of playful banter. Always learning, always restless. Lover of tales, yet constantly seeking truth. Smart in crowded rooms but feels everything in solitude. Can talk for hours, yet holds back the most vital stories. An open book with some pages glued together.

🌕 Full Moon in Cancer Moon: Deeply emotional but with towering ambitions. Home is where the heart is, but success calls out loudly. Nurturer, yet constantly seeking validation in professional realms. Strongly rooted in tradition, but innovation is genuinely where they shine. Trust them to hold your secrets, but be aware that they've got vaults of their own. Feels everything intensely, yet presents a composed front. A true master of their emotions.

🌕 Full Moon in Leo Moon: Born for the spotlight, yet truly values the collective. Radiates warmth, but not without moments of icy detachment when they simply just need to be by themself to just feel. People think they know them, but there's so much beneath the surface. A cheerleader for others but their own harshest critic. Life of the party or the silent observer, there’s no in-between to be honest. Embraces individuality but deeply feels the world's pulse, every tingling seconds of it.

🌕 Full Moon in Virgo Moon: Analytical, with a dash of whimsy. Details matter, but they get lost in dreams. They'll correct your mistakes but with a twinkle in their eye. Grounded but constantly touched by the ethereal. In their eyes, theres beauty hidden in every day life. They’ll say it like it is, but only because they care deeply. Organization is their game, but occasionally they let chaos reign.

🌕 Full Moon in Libra Moon: All about balance, but swings between extremes. Charmer but secretly questions every relationship's depth. Seems calm, but the scales constantly tip inside. They could be the voice of reason or the spark of chaos. Seeks harmony but won't shy away from a duel. Gracious host but fiercely protective of their space.

🌕 Full Moon in Scorpio Moon: Magnetic, with an undercurrent of intensity. Deep waters run still, but currents are tumultuous beneath. Attracts with a gaze, but holds back many secrets. Draws you in, but sets boundaries like no other. Depth intrigues them, superficiality repels. They’re the storm you never saw coming.

🌕 Full Moon in Sagittarius Moon: Wanderer with roots. They'll tell tales of far-off lands but crave the familiar. Philosophical yet grounded in reality. Yearns for adventure, but treasures moments of stillness. They're the storyteller you can't stop listening to. Fiery passion with an old soul's wisdom.

🌕 Full Moon in Capricorn: Ambitious with a touch of nostalgia. Climbs mountains but cherishes the base camp. Seeks recognition but values genuine connections more. Strong and silent, but an emotional depth many overlook. They'll lead the way, but not without their tribe. The unsung hero with a heart of gold.

🌕 Full Moon in Aquarius Moon: Innovative, with a touch of tradition. Forward-thinking but respects the old ways. Charms effortlessly, but holds the inner circle tight. Believes in the future but honors the past. They're the genius with quirks. Dreamer with feet firmly on the ground in the most fascinating way possible.

🌕 Full Moon in Pisces Moon: Dreamy with a razor-sharp intuition. Feels the world's pulse, yet dances to their own rhythm simply because, they can. Embraces emotions, yet has an uncanny logical side. They’re the artist who sees the world in vivid colors. Deeply empathetic, yet occasionally distant. They're there, but also everywhere else in between. The poet whose words touch the soul.

love,

saint jenx🪐

513 notes · View notes

groversimp · 2 months

Note

need “hits different”!😭😭😭

Hits Different

part one (Nothing Has Ever Felt So Wrong)

part two (Hits Different)

part three (The Way I Loved You) || not out yet!

part four (Foolish One) || not out yet!

decided to be a good author and answer these requests for Hits Different because it’s been FOREVER 😿

warnings: ANGST, bruh reader needs to stop mourning, also we’re bringing in an oc dude, I love love love Shiloh 😽

You hated Clarisse La Rue.

You hated her stupid her, her deep-brown eyes. You hated the scarred hands you once held in yours, the ones you used to cherish. You’d kiss her palms and tell her she’s not a monster. Not to you.

Yet, you were the one left burned. Scarred and blistering from the scalding touch of her soul.

Her and Silena sit on the benches only a few, short feet from you. Weaving bracelets together at their arts n’ crafts lesson, the initials of the other carved into the beads.

You mope with your siblings, firmly avoiding Silena’s pointed and snarky looks. She wasn’t a bad person, you knew that. She was just in love.

You were just in love.

It was sickening. You had tried and tried to wash yourself clean of her- to allow the flowing rain to make yourself new, but it only left you rugged and dripping, a walking storm cloud. The midnight rain you sat in did little to heal the gaping wound in your heart, beating like a war-cry of Clarisse’s.

“Hey, Y/N.” You hear a voice, smooth and soft like the cooling tide of the lake.

You’ve never really noticed Shiloh, the boy who had just approached you and taken the liberty to sit next to you. A son of the minor god, Dinlas.

Most would think he’d be rough and hateful, but he was honestly very sweet. Carrying himself with nothing but loyalty and understanding- though, the Greek-fire burned beneath his green eyes to not challenge him.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “Hey.” Your voice is just as soft, but quieter. You don’t take up any space, just uselessly flowing like a spring shower.

You two continued to talk, the fierce glare sent his way from Clarisse went unnoticed by him. And the butterflies you got from her two-second attention were too addicting to not give into. Spurring the conversation on and on, it almost felt natural.

He walked you back to your cabin, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and a sinking feeling in your stomach. The cabin door quietly shut behind you- how dare you? He shouldn’t have been that close to begin with, now this?

You can almost feeling the punches Clarisse would throw at him, wincing at the idea of faux injuries.

Would she still do that for you, would she care?

You cared, you thought as you climb into your bed. Not bothering to clean up for campfire or looking up as your siblings file into the cabin.

The only thing that felt right was to sob into the stuffed bear Clarisse gave you for your 5-month anniversary. The weak punches your fist throws to the bed are pitiful; they’d make a puppy laugh. But, how can you bring yourself to be strong when you feel so deeply?

The bed dips and you don’t need to look up to know who it is- your sister, Astilbe, shushes you softly and places a hand on the small of your back. It reminds you of Clarisse, caring and possessive. You only cry more.

“Y/N,” she says- voice chipper as the morning birds, though the pity is evident. “Love is a lie, you’ll be alright.”

A sob wrecks through you again, almost like a quiet scream.

“She was good, Bee.” You tell her. “There was good in her.”

You pay no mind to her disagreements, only sitting up to place your face in the small of her neck and crying harder.

This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t right. You’ve aways been one to move on quickly, staining your exes with a maroon, star-painted sky. You leave with only the memories and their dignity.

That was who you are. Over-confident, ‘manic pixie dream girl’, draining Y/N.

But that’s why she loved you. Ever-burning, violent, dangerous Clarisse.

That’s why she chose you. Why you chose her.

You’d go insane if you kept thinking like this, but for her- you’d do it all.

#pjo fandom #pjo x reader #pjoverse #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo clarisse #clarisse pjo #percy jackson fandom

193 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 9 months

Note

hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all.

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again.

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green.

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles.

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.”

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.”

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt

483 notes · View notes