#First time writing angst

[emphistic]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

𝐀/𝐍: thank you all for more than 505 followers (see what i did there with the song?) have this as a token of my gratitude (this is superr long overdue, mb you guys)

𝐖/𝐂: around 2500

“Why? Why, Sukuna? Why the hell did you not pull away?” You failed to keep your voice down.

“Baby, please. Trust me, she flung herself on me. I–”

“So you didn't push her off?”

Sukuna raked his fingers through his hair, clearly exasperated and struggling to find the words to answer you. “Look — the last time I did that I almost got arrested for assault. And guess what? You yelled at me for that, too. You said, ‘Why would you do that? You couldn't have just told her to get off?’ So really, what did you want me to do this time?”

You covered your mouth to stifle your sobs, at this point, your mascara was completely ruined, running down your cheeks. “Okay, okay, I get it. I'm wrong, you're right.”

But I crumble completely when you cry

Sukuna turned away from you, scratching his neck. Your mascara was smudged along your cheeks, your tears dampening your eyelashes. He couldn't bear seeing you like this, not when he was the cause. Was it cruel of him to say, to believe, to think, that you were most beautiful this way?

“That wasn't my point, and you know that. You know that damn well, sweetheart.” Sukuna said — after a moment of silence — and turned back to face you, albeit he hesitated before meeting your glossy eyes.

“Then what was it? What was it, Sukuna? Tell me. Enlighten me.” You frantically wiped away your tears as they fell, and though desperate as you were, you were still too slow.

“. . .” Sukuna stared down at you with a stoic expression painted on his face. His gaze remained unwavering, though yours flickered throughout the room, seemingly unable to face him properly. If he knew better, he would realize it was only because you would start bawling immediately after meeting his crimson eyes.

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

“Fine!” You threw your arms up, utterly defeated. You had no time for Sukuna's games. “Be that way; go have fun with all your other girls!” You stomped away, but decided — in the moment — to turn around for a second just to flip the pink-haired man off. “Burn in Hell, Sukuna, for all I care. I don't want to see your stupid, stupid face ever again.”

Sukuna sighed, his eyes burned holes into the back of your dress as you left him standing there. Standing there with nothing but his thoughts, dreams, and regrets. Standing there in the club alleyway. The same club alleyway that you pulled him away to so you could yell at him.

But it didn't feel like the same club alleyway, because Something was missing. Something very dear to him — but he was no better than a man.

I'm always just about to go and spoil the surprise

He was no better than a man. He didn't have the courage. He didn't have the brains. He didn't have the wit. He didn't have the assets. He didn't have anything that he had had with you. Not anymore, at least.

Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

He didn't have anything, because you were his everything. You were his light. His match. His flame. He didn't know what his point was. He didn't know. He didn't know. Because alas, he was no better than just a man. A man helplessly in love — with you.

So what would a man — helplessly in love with you — do? Perhaps he would visit your favorite jewelry brand and buy you an exquisite necklace. Maybe he would stop by a florist's shop and get you flowers. Or he could get you a baked good from the local bakery you like so much. And so, Sukuna — possibly being the most indecisive man alive — did all three of those things.

He purchased you a glimmering diamond necklace, a bouquet made up of your favorite flowers, and a cake of your favorite flavor.

Now, Sukuna was never a nervous nor self-doubting man, that was until he met you. He gets butterflies at the thought of you, though he'd never admit that. What could he say? He loved your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle as you do, your smile, your habit of tucking your hair behind your ear, your meticulousness when choosing earrings to match your outfit, your eyes — especially when they appeared to almost be glittering, he loved everything about you. But most importantly. . . He loved you. And that is why he sits in the driver's seat of his car, with his head in his hands and his back hunched over in thought.

He messed up. He messed up bad. And now he had to clean up the mess.

Fifteen minutes prior, his younger twin brother — Yuuji — had given him a pep talk, hyping him up. Yuuji knew how much you had helped Sukuna. He remembered the way Sukuna appeared happier, as if 100 pounds had been lifted off his shoulders — not that he would have any trouble carrying that weight — when Sukuna came home from your first date together. Yuuji saw the difference in Sukuna from that day on. Yuuji saw, Yuuji heard, and Yuuji felt the difference.

Albeit the younger twin could be a bit . . . dull, at times, Yuuji knew that you were what Sukuna needed most. If you had affected Sukuna so greatly when you came into his life, just think about the effects that would take place if you two separated. Yuuji got chills just thinking of that, which was why he was so desperate for his older brother to just rip off the bandaid, set his ego aside, and make amends.

I'm going back to 505

Sukuna was going back. He was going back to you . . . even if it was the last thing he would do. He finally raised his head from his hands and started the car. He was going to see you, apologize and explain how stupid he was being, and he was going to give you all the gifts he purchased. If his words couldn't satisfy you, he was going to spend the rest of his life proving himself to you with his credit card.

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

The drive to your apartment from his penthouse was only 3/4s of an hour, though it felt much longer as his dread grew and grew. It didn't matter how long, how far, how dangerous, the journey — he would always go back to his girl.

His girl.

That's what you were. That's what you are. That's what you will be — for as long as Sukuna lives. He would make sure of that.

The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

But it didn't feel that way, certainly not when you opened the door with a frown on your face that only deepened as you immediately moved to close the door upon seeing the pink spikes of Sukuna’s hair. But he was already two steps ahead of you. He — already expecting that reaction — had quickly blocked you from closing the door by sticking his foot out between the door.

Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark

“Sukuna. Didn't I tell you to never—!”

“Baby, please. Hear me out — for just a second.” Sukuna's lips were dry, his throat parched.

“Fine.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, he would've missed it if he was not as desperate as he was now.

Three days. It had been three days since you two had last spoken, in that damned alleyway. Three days of plain torture. Three days of sleepless nights. Three days without you. Three days of Hell.

God, he was so glad to hear your voice again; it was like music to his ears.

The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start

You slowly pulled the door back and took a step backward, silently giving Sukuna your consent for him to enter. However, he didn't feel deserving of it, so he stayed in his position.

“Look, this is probably a waste of your time—”

“It is.”

He shoved the gifts into your hands.

“Oh? What's this?” You raised a brow, digging your hand through the bags to investigate, but Sukuna cleared his throat and you met his eyes.

“I want to apologize, for what I said and for how I acted. I'm really, really sorry. You know I'm not the best with these kinds of things, but, I really am. Believe me. And . . . I wasn't in the right state of mind, I was already a few drinks in — y’know that — and I know that's not an excuse but, I just. . . I'm sorry, okay? I haven't slept a wink since you left. And I was a fucking coward: I should've done this earlier but I didn't. So—please, forgive me.”

You didn't say anything, averting your gaze to the ground at your feet, and still processing his words. You mulled over what he had said in your head.

“Say something. Anything. Please.” Sukuna was so close to getting on his hands and knees that it was almost embarrassing.

“Sukuna, I don't know what to tell you. I believe you're sorry but I. . . I'm not ready to forgive you, not yet. It's just a lot, y’know? I mean, if you were in my shoes right now, you would feel the same way—”

“That's why I'm apologizing.” Sukuna cut you off, his desperation quickly turning into agitation.

“Yes, I get that, but . . . I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. I'm not ready to just push this aside and move on. I'm not . . . ready — for any of that.” Your eyes softened, as did your tone.

Despite his desperate pleads, you couldn't bring yourself to just forget the whole ordeal and why he was apologizing in the first place. But Sukuna was no better than a man. He had no clue why you felt this way. The only thing he's known in life was to move on. That's what he does and will do. That's why he is the way he is. That's why.

“Do you even want this relationship to last? Can't you see I'm trying to fix this problem?”

“I do, Sukuna. I really do. Couples fight and have arguments. It's normal. It's what we're doing right now. But just because it's normal doesn't mean I'm going to brush it aside as if it didn't happen.”

“Are you out of your—!? Do you have any idea how many girls would like to be in your spot right now? Do you have ANY idea?” By now, Sukuna had completely lost it. He was frustrated, so frustrated. He didn't understand what more you wanted from him.

“I—Sukuna, what?”

“Have you any idea? Any idea at all?”

You would be lying if you said you weren't scared, utterly afraid of the man standing before you right now. For you could see nothing past his eyes, no love, no care, nothing. Only the deep, rich crimson color that you once loved and held so dear to your heart.

“You know what? Good for you. Good for you that you have so many other better options but you chose me. Good. For. You. I guess you don't need me anymore. Goodbye, Sukuna.”

You slammed the door [shut] in Sukuna's face, falling with your back against it seconds later and bringing your knees to your chest. The waterworks started soon after and Sukuna could hear your quiet sobs from beyond the door.

He was dumbfounded, absolutely appalled. Did he really just say that to you? Sukuna knew he was not the brightest, but, damn, he's really done it this time.

Sukuna ran his fingers through his hair, now sitting in his car. He definitely did not mean to say what he said. In fact, he didn't even know how it slipped out. One second he was basically on his knees for you and the next, he . . . wasn't. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? He thought. He continued to sit there, reflecting on his actions and words. But he still couldn't believe it. What the fuck just happened?

He came to your apartment hoping to salvage the remnants of your guys' relationship, but he ended up ruining it — forever. Sukuna was 100% sure this was the worst fuckup in the history of mankind.

But he couldn't just leave it like this. He could still fix this, right? Alas, Sukuna had lost all hope; he lost his mind; and he lost the love of his life.

“Shit,” Sukuna muttered. He had really lost it, he thought, as he walked back to your apartment door. He had really lost it, he thought, when he spared a glance at your apartment number.

I'm going back to 505

That was the whole point of this, right? He was going back — no matter what, right?

When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

He had really lost it, he thought, when he saw your glossy — yet still absolutely mesmerizing eyes after reluctantly answering the door, waiting for Sukuna to say something, anything. Anything at all. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all. He had really lost it, he thought, when he pulled you in for the most zealous kiss he had ever experienced that left you gasping for air. His lips slotted against yours, moving fervently simultaneously. Albeit, he pulled away rather quickly — afraid of what he had just done.

I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Mere seconds after Sukuna pulled back, you moved your hand so quickly — that Sukuna didn't even notice at first — and slapped him. Hard. You slapped him hard as fuck. But then you did something that surprised the pink-haired man even more. You embraced him in a hug, and a tight one at that.

“Hug me back, dumbass.” You quipped.

Or I did last time I checked

“You just slapped me.” He hugged you back, nevertheless, wrapping his arms around your figure. Because, he had to admit, it was kinda hot [getting slapped].

“Duh. ‘Cause you're such a loser.”

A pause of silence occured, before Sukuna spoke up.

“I didn't mean what I said,” Sukuna murmured against your hair. He had longed for this moment. God, you made him so soft sometimes.

“I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

“I missed you.”

“You never stop talking, do you.”

“To you? Never.”

I'm going back to 505

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

With your hands between your thighs and a smile

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #with a happy ending #sukuna #first time writing angst #pls dont flop

[jjoneechan]

💚 DNF COMIC 💙

//teeny angst with a happy ending

#artists on tumblr #do not repost/steal #dreamfanart #georgenotfoundfanart #dnf #dnf fanart #dnf comic #angst with a happy ending #first time writing angst #hope you like it #Takes place during it takes two stream #I love reading your reblogs it makes my day 🫶 #comic

[writeouswriter]

My followers: And is this “writing” you’ve been “working on” in the room with us right now?

#writing #writeblr #writer things #writing humour #textpost #writing humor #relatable #funny #I genuinely am writing for the first time in a long while #but it’s uh it’s for an angst fanfic for a fandom one wouldn’t expect fic for necessarily #and I’m embarrassed but I’m not because it’s good but you’re never seeing it it’s between me and my ao3 when I finally do finish it #it’s at 6000 words but fr that’s the most I’ve written on a single thing in a long time and it’s still going! #last time I wrote/finished anything in forever was also for this fandom back in November <3 nature is healing #it’s slow going but I’m hoping to finish it before June 😭

[konigbabe]

PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

#fun fact this is the first time I’m actually writing death and mourning #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #moni writes #moni's writing week #jjk writing week #angst

[leviscolwill]

adore

pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader

summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]

contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?

note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶

now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...

"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."

"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."

your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.

the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.

when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.

"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.

"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.

"i'm-"

"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.

"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.

"is that your boyfriend?"

"ummm, no he's my-"

"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.

"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.

"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.

"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.

"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.

"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.

"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.

the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.

immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.

even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.

"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.

"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.

you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.

thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.

you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.

you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.

you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.

"is it gonna hurt?"

"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.

"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.

you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.

"you're so pretty..."

if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.

"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.

"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.

you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.

"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.

"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.

you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.

he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.

once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.

you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.

"no thanks, i'm not hungry."

"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.

"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.

you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.

but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.

"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.

"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.

you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.

"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."

you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.

"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?

he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?

"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?

"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?

"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.

"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.

if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.

once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.

you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.

when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.

jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.

you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.

after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.

it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.

no answer.

there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.

you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.

"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.

"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"

it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.

but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.

it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.

once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.

let's just keep doing what you did all day

i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened

probably best for us :)

#ik i always like feedback but i'll like it even more this time #my first time writing angst that's actually angsty !! #hope you all liked it 🫶 #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham angst #football one shot #football fanfic #football imagine #footballer imagine #football x reader #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #football x you #football x y/n #football angst

[wonderlandrry]

hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you’ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #writing #writers #harry styles short story #harry styles story #harry styles series #lhh supremacy #friends #slow burn #smut #softrry #first time writing #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #baseballrry #lhh!harry #best friend!harry #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb

[lightseoul]

still do

synopsis. bakugou katsuki finally confronts you. you have a difficult conversation. (part 1) (part 3)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old), lots of cussing

word count. 1.5k words

a/n. here's part two of admit it, everyone!! thank you for all the love on the first one and i hope you like this continuation <3 reblogs and comments will be highly appreciated (´∀｀)♡

“Excuse me?”

His eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, you would’ve missed it if you just looked away for a split second.

“You heard me.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I did,” you snap back. “I just couldn’t believe the ludicrousness that came out of your mouth.”

“What?” he frowns, “I just thought— with everything that you do and say—” his eyes drift away from you as he trails off. “Shit.”

You don’t know how you feel, let alone what to think about how you’ve been acting when things concern Bakugou, either. But you do know one thing.

He had no right bringing shit up like this.

Not after he just left your relationship to die out like that.

You peer over your shoulder, wary of any prying eyes and eavesdropping ears beyond the open doorway.

You twist your head back to look at him, venom ready on your tongue.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Bakugou.”

At that, you spin on your heel, ready to march toward the exit and not spare him a second glance, when he makes a grab for your wrist. Again.

That’s it.

Fuming, you turn to face him and yank your hand free. “You have to be fucking kidding me! You can’t expect me to do all the work again, Katsuki,” you exclaim, “That’s what you had me doing in the last two months of our relationship, and now you expect me to say, what, that I love you and I want you back, just like that?”

“And for what?” you cackle, “So you can fucking rub it in my face?”

“No!” he yells back. “Fuck, because I still do!”

You suck in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I still love you,” he admits, a scowl now decorating his face. “And I might just be losing my damn mind, but all the signs point to you being in love with me, too.”

Your head is reeling from his weighty confession, heart going at a hundred and fifty beats per minute, but you manage to snort, “Signs? What signs?”

“The coffee?” he starts, “How you go the extra mile with work when it concerns me? How you haven’t gone on a single date since we broke up? And all the others before that.”

He shakes his head, incredulous. “Don’t even go on—just—fucking thinking that I don’t notice.”

You have absolutely no defense for the first two, so you fire back at him on the last sentence instead.

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that our relationship could’ve possibly left me traumatized?”

That shuts him up.

You bite your lip. Maybe that was a bit of a harsh overgeneralization.

You huff, opting to rub your temple in exhaustion instead of looking at him in the eye.

When you speak up again, your voice is lower, volume brought down a notch from exhaustion, or in an attempt to be gentler—you’re not sure.

“I don’t even know why you’re doing all this, Katsuki,” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood although you know there’s no helping it. “It’s not like you want to get back together…”

You lock eyes with him, and the certainty that once laced your tone suddenly dissolves in your tongue.

“...right?”

He just stares at you, eyes brimming with what you’ve identified long ago as longing, and you find yourself shaking your head before you can even think about doing so.

“...No.”

You gulp, panic rising in your throat. “I can’t go through that all over again. There’s a reason why we broke up.”

“There’s a reason why we went on a break,” he corrects. “And I acknowledge that. I was an asshole who prioritized work over you and our relationship and had to pay the price for it.”

“But our break up?” he shakes his head in what you think is confusion.

Desperation, too.

“We were just on a break…” he continues, “and before I knew it, we already had our friends picking up our things for us.”

He eyes you for what feels like minutes before speaking up again.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“What happened?” you immediately sputter back in disbelief. “You didn’t come after me, that’s what happened! You didn’t bother to prove to me that I was wrong and that you could change—or even protested when I asked for a break!”

“I thought you wanted the fucking space!” he shouts back, frustrated. “I waited it out—I waited for you to take me back. I spent all that time apart trying to become a better person. I even asked shitty Deku to hook me up with a shrink—only to be met with radio silence from you!”

“Then, what?” you challenge, “You just decided a month in that I wasn’t worth waiting for anymore?”

“I just wanted to give you more space by not having you suffocated by my stuff! Shit—,” he curses, “—the last thing I fucking expected was for Bug Eyes to be at my door the next day asking for yours.”

You could only gape at him in unabashed disbelief.

“You’re a dumbass for thinking that move was okay.”

He huffs in defeat. “I thought it made sense at that time. I’m sorry.”

The reality of your miscommunication and the resulting fallout finally sinks in as you stare at each other, the pained look of realization etched across both of your faces.

You look down at your feet, unable to sustain his penetrating gaze for any second longer.

You sigh, “...None of that matters now, Kats. We’re broken up. And you’ve been doing a hell of a good job keeping your distance. It—”

“‘s only because I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

You look back up at him, “What?”

He chuckles, but his eyes are far from happy.

“I kept my distance because I thought that was what you wanted from me,” he shifts on his feet, now slightly leaning toward you. “But then I started noticing the little things, and both Kirishima and Mina mentioned some shit—”

“Fuck.”

“—and talked some sense into me. Which is why I’m asking you now. Please,” he steps closer to you, and you take a step back out of instinct. Hurt flashes across his face, but he doesn’t make a move to get any closer.

“Please,” he repeats, “just give me another chance.”

“Hold on,” you shake your head, glaring back up at him. “Stop making this about me and what I want, Katsuki. Let’s make this clear.”

You stab a finger to his chest. “You kept your distance because you were a coward. Just admit it—you couldn’t bear being the one who has to swallow their pride and chase after the other person.”

“I know, which is why–”

“No, I don’t think you do,” you interrupt. “If you did, you would’ve just told me you still love me instead of demanding that I say it to you first.”

“So you still do?”

“What?”

He searches your eyes for something. “Love me. I just need to hear you say it, please.”

You huff for the nth time. You’re too tired to be mad at his audacity and to entertain the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach despite yourself.

“So what if I still love you?” you mumble. “It’s not like that will change anything.”

At that, he chances another step toward you, but this time, you don’t move back. You simply stand your ground.

“It does,” he rasps, “It changes everything.”

You look into his eyes for any sort of deceit or treachery, but all you find is honesty. The tears that you think he’s been trying to hold back the entire time now trickle down his cheeks.

Before your brain could even catch up with what you were about to do, your hand shoots up to gently wipe them off his face.

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your heart clenches at the sight.

You missed him, you finally admit to yourself. You always have.

A moment passes before you slowly retract your hand back to your side. The disappointment that flashes across his features when you do is palpable, it almost physically hurts you.

You look up at him and muster a small smile. “Does it really, Kats?”

His eyebrows furrow in question, but he doesn’t say anything, tear streaks now staining his cheeks.

You take in a shaky breath before continuing.

“Does it change the fact that you’re still incredibly busy?” you start.

“That every day, you’re gonna have to choose between work and me? And that you’re always gonna be a hero first and a partner second?”

You smile.

“That I’m always gonna have to swallow my pride and chase after you for as long as we’re together?”

He continues to stare at you with a deep sense of longing, but at that, he says nothing.

You chuckle again, even though the last thing you want to do right now is laugh.

“I thought so.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @bakugouswh0r3 @poemzcheng @lovra974 @jasmixs @xoneaboveallx @bontensh0e @kooromin @sirenmoi @buzzbuzz-hm @xzsanaa @baddecisionsworld @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @i-simp-to-much @goldenglow149 @fixed211 @zenxvii @roses-arerosies @tiredjuniper @curbstompedrice

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #first time writing something w no timeskips!!! LMAO #this was so difficult oml #i hope yall like it : ( #i love angst and drama so much SHAJSHAJ

[groceryreceiptss]

hii! could you do peeta melark x reader? just some domestic sunday morning cuddling :) thanks so much!

'cause it's gravity, keeping you with me

peeta mellark x reader | word count : 0.9k | requested

a/n : hii!! to be honest, i wasn't really sure on how to write this so i'm really sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, but i tried my best, and i hope you'll enjoy reading it either way! :) thank you for the request < 33 (also yes, i know the picture i chose doesn’t quite match the theme of this fic but look at him!! and look at that golden light on his face!!!)

contains : baddd writing. fluff -> soft intimacy!! but a bit of angst too if you squint. you know, longings and a sense of vulnerability. feelings of hopelessness and despair in the past. let me know if there's more!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the soft morning sun drifted its way to your face, resting its warm light against your closed eyes. you were just about to give yourself an excuse to sleep in a bit later before you subconsciously remembered that, today is a sunday. no business in waking up early then, you thought, as you pulled the blanket closer.

you shifted a bit and shuffled in closer to peeta’s body next to you. His breathing met at the same pace as yours and his heartbeat the same thrum as the one you had going.

peeta mellark. you knew it was silly to dwell on what could have and would have, but every day, each morning, as you woke up to his comforting presence next to you, you couldn’t help but wonder, what would your life have become, if he hadn’t been there to keep it going?

the war had destroyed everything, leaving trails of loss in its path, wider than the land itself. you didn’t know what you would have done, if you hadn’t seen him again. if he hadn’t come back to your life and reminded you that there were still reasons to live and try to heal for.

and every day you woke up feeling more grateful than the day before.

you didn’t know if an hour had passed, or had it been merely minutes later, when you felt peeta’s arms on your waist, pulling you back onto his chest, engulfing you in more of his warmth, his comfort. his head nested on the crook of your neck, his messy golden blonde hair on your cheek.

in response and out of habit, you brought your hands to his curls, smoothing them softly.

“y/n, sweetheart?” he muttered, and you could feel his lips on your shoulder, sending vibrations onto your skin and bone. it was crazy how he could still make your heart skipped a beat like it was the first time.

“hm?” you responded, still not ready to part with sleep too much to say anything else.

his lips lost touch with your skin and moved on to your ear, whispering, “turn around, look at me please.” 

and so you slowly did. with your eyes still refusing to open, you felt his fingers playing with your hair, pulling them off your forehead. 

“morning, sleepyhead.” he chuckled, and you could tell that he was playfully rolling his eyes. he kissed your temple slowly, and you let your eyes flutter open. 

rubbing your eyes in an effort to erase the sleep out of them, you mumbled, “how are you already awake? it’s sunday.”

“old habits die hard,” he’d answered before you felt his hands on your wrists, stroking them softly with his thumbs. 

you placed your arms around his chest, and as if on cue, he pulled you closer to him, earning him a soft sigh. “do you think it’s physically possible for us to get any closer?” he wondered aloud with a way too cute smile on his face.

still not entirely conscious, you muttered without thinking, “maybe once our bodies have withered into skeletons." oh, you caught yourself. “oh wait, that's dark.” 

he let out a light laugh at your scrunched up eyebrows. “i love you.” 

you looked up at him, into his deep beautiful blue eyes. his eyelashes are so long. “i love you too, peet.” 

and you did, you really did. you told him that everyday, but you never did think it was enough. it was so dramatic to actually utter it, but you truly didn’t think there was enough variety in the english dictionary to fully capture this. this thing that passed between you and him.

as if hearing your quiet thoughts, maybe your eyes had displayed a moment of fragility in them, he responded saying, “i know, love, i know.” 

the grip on your waist held on tighter, like it was scared if it faltered, then it would lose. you mirrored his gesture and snuggled your head further into his chest, the top of your head touching his chin. 

“you want to get some breakfast?” he mumbled into your tousled hair. 

you thought about it for a second, but then shook your head. you looked up at him, a wide smile etched onto your face. “no, i’m good here.” 

you didn’t want to leave this yet, this sacred place. one where you could feel his signs of life all around you, one where you could shut the entire world all around you and its bleak reality and made it only consist of you and him. peeta mellark. 

was it possible to fall further in love with the same person every time you heard his name in your head? was it possible to have the same name echoed through your head over and over like a promise?

you saw his lips formed into a bigger smile, his fingers played with the strands of your hair. 

maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t, but all he could think about  at this very moment was how he had gotten so lucky. to have you here beside him, letting him love you and and letting him show it to you. he looked at your face, with that big smile on it, eyes still bleary from sleep. you were so beautiful, my god. 

he nodded, agreed. he didn’t want to leave too. if he could stay here forever, he would. it would be like having lived a lifetime itself, he thought. “yeah, me too." he said softly as he planted a kiss on your forehead. 

#this is literally the first time i have ever posted any of my fics on... anything so sorry if it's bad <3 #thank you for reading!! #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg #my writing! #requested

[thepromptswhisperer]

The First Time... Prompts

1) …they see you doing something embarrassing.

2) …you realize that you long to see them again.

3) …you cook together/they cook for you.

4) …you take them to your favorite spot in town/etc.

5) …you witness them having a bad day/receiving bad news.

6) …you see baby photos of them.

7) …they stand up for you/have your back.

8) …you go on a date.

9) …you notice them pushing you away/holding you at arm’s length.

10) …they cry in front of you.

11) …you fall asleep next to them/in their arms.

12) …they give you a nickname.

13) …you have an argument.

14) …they introduce you to someone important to them.

15) …you take a shower together.

16) …you notice that you’ve not been thinking about them at all. (e.g. after a breakup, while making a decision that changes their life too)

17) …your friends tease you about your crush/relationship.

18) …you say I love you.

19) …you see them wearing your clothes.

20) …you buy/make/plan something for their birthday.

21) …you hear them laugh.

22) …they (truly) annoy you.

23) …you go on a vacation together.

24) …you see them angry.

25) …they do/say something romantic for/to you.

26) …they hurt you.

27) …you see them acting so that it seems out of character.

28) …you hold hands.

29) …you have a (day)dream about them.

30) …they break a promise they made.

31) …they help you with something.

32) …they are feeling sick (and you take care of them).

33) …they don’t (immediately) answer your call/text.

34) …you kiss them.

35) …you fart in front of them.

36) …they are already asleep when you join them in bed.

37) …you meet them again after days/months/years apart.

38) …you see them drunk.

39) …you make plans together for something in the far future.

40) …you celebrate your anniversary together.

41) …they try out something that you love doing.

42) …you see them looking flustered.

43) …being near them doesn’t make you feel better/calm you at all.

44) …you (think it might be better/easier if you were to) break up (with them).

45) …you buy something together for your shared home.

46) …they give you puppy dog eyes.

47) …you see them being scared of something.

48) …you completely lose track of time talking to them.

49) …you hear them talking about an ex.

50) …they walk/drive you home.

51) …you get a message from them (in the morning/evening – as they want to be the first/last person you talk to that day).

52) …you wake up without them still sleeping next to you.

53) …you surprise them with something.

54) …you say something to them that you immediately regret.

55) …they treat you in a way/say something that helps you accept a flaw – or what you perceive as one, at least – of yours.

56) …they don’t say I love you back.

57) …you see them get jealous.

58) …you’re alone at their place (and it doesn’t feel odd).

59) …you see them not succeeding/failing at something.

60) …you experience their favorite day of the year/holiday/season with them by your side.

61) …you lie to them.

62) ...you have sex.

63) …you tell them something you never told anyone before.

64) …you notice a specific quirk of theirs.

65) …you talk about being with them for the rest of your life.

#tw: alcohol #writing prompts #writing inspiration #couple prompts #fluff prompts #angst prompts #first time prompts #writing ideas #prompt list

[closedownregulus]

Prompt: Feb 14th - Lips | 1183 words | @jegulus-microfic part two , three and four :)

Barty Crouch is an idiot. The first time James came to this conclusion he was only 11 years old and Barty was refusing to give him back his football cause “football is not for losers, weirdo”, since then, the thought crosses his mind from time to time – Barty Crouch is an idiot. Not only an idiot, but also stupid, not only fucking stupid, but also deadass ugly, not only ugly, he is also an arrogant piece of shit, not only that, he’s also a- argh, James could go on and on about all of Barty Crouch’s flaws, he could go for hours, days, damn, even weeks if someone gave him the time of day to do so. Honestly, he can’t think of one good thing to say about the guy, nonetheless, Regulus’ been kissing him senseless for the past 7 minutes – not that James is counting or anything – seeming fucking dead set on finding Barty’s hidden qualities, if he has any, in the inside of the boy's mouth. Not that James cares that his best friend’s baby brother has been snogging the most annoying man to ever walk earth for 7 minutes and 36 fucking seconds, like they´re stuck in a game of 7 minutes in heaven or something, or, more accurately to James, 7 minutes and 49 seconds in the deepest pit of hell – not that he’s counting (whatever).

Part of him, the hopeful part, is kind of holding on to the idea that this is some weird kind of practical joke Regulus is playing on Barty, he knows James' football story, maybe that’s the way he’s found to revenge him, making Barty fall in love with him and then leaving the guy tormented by the memory of a kiss with a boy he’ll never be able to have playing in loop in his head. Part of him, the protective part, hates that fucking Barty Crouch has even the memory of a kiss to play in loop in his head, part of him wants to yank it off. Part of him, ugh, part of him is scared that Regulus is not some boy Barty can’t have. Part of him – the possessive, petty and kinda insane part – hates that it’s Barty instead of James, who has known Regulus for years, he’d know what to do to make him feel good, he’s sure he’d figure out the right buttons to push in a matter of seconds. Instead, it’s another person in what should be his place, touching Regulus in places James never will, running his tongue over his lips and tasting Regulus in ways that James will never be able to – he hates to think about the sounds that he’s dragging out of Regulus, sounds that he’s getting to hear, swallow, save for later. Fuck. James might kill the fucking guy.

It’s not like James wants to be in Barty’s place - or whatever, it’s more of a protective big brother's best friend thing, he’d rather kill himself than actually kiss Sirius’ baby brother, it’s literally the most disgusting thought that could ever cross his mind ever, literally. Which, if he’s being totally honest, it does from time, but it only causes him to experience the deepest feeling of disgust, he can literally feel his stomach doing weird loops and stuff, which can only be translated to pure and utter repulse, literally. It’s not like it’s a recurring thing or anything, it’s just that he’s a fucking 17-year-old, of course the idea of kissing people he’s always hanging out with is gonna come to him out of fucking nowhere. And like, Regulus does have this freakish pink lips that look really soft and it's kinda hard to not stare at them when he's been going on and on for hours about some book he's recently read, specially when he keeps biting his lower lip every five minutes before saying the next sentence. Not that the thought crosses his mind in a weird, out of ordinary, creepy constancy or anything, really. It's just, you know, your ordinary 17 year old boy next door normal amount of thinking about kissing your best friend’s brother – which he doesn’t by the away, just, rarely, sometimes, in a daily basis, rarely.

The point is, James is Sirius’ best friend, and Regulus is Sirius’ baby brother, James remember him as a toddler, with his big grey eyes and messy dark hair all over the place, so of course he’s gonna be concerned about Regulus’ well being and not want him to snog some dumbass just cause he found the free time to do so. He wants Regulus to be with someone that is worthy of him, not that James can think of anyone that managed to meet the criteria so far, or that ever will. Well, if he stops to think about it, in an ideal world Regulus would grow old alone and a virgin, but is that really so bad? James will visit him everyday and they’ll play videogames and do star wars marathons. Fuck it. He’ll even listen to Regulus talk about his pretentious books and let him put his depressing emo music, he already does that all the time anyway, he might even sing some of the lyrics that he’s already learned from having to listen to it every time they hang out. Well, and if from time to time Regulus happens to feel kinda alone and horny, James would even be ok to helping him out with that, you know, in the sole interest of keeping him away from losers. If that’s what it takes to save Sirius from having to endure life as the brother in law of some dumb, ugly idiot, James doesn’t mind sacrificing himself for his best friend, call him a fucking altruist if you will.

James bets Barty Crouch has never touched a single episode of Star Wars, or a book in that matter, maybe he can’t even read anything with more than fifty pages or pay attention to any movie that's longer than one hour. Also, he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’ll be able to appreciate Regulus’ music and try to actually understand and connect with the lyrics, which is the most important part to Regulus, he’ll probably try and change subjects every time Regulus tries to explain his interpretation. Basically, James is pretty sure they don’t even have anything in common to talk about, they won’t even be able to have a proper conversation! What are they gonna do? Just kiss the whole time they’re together? Every single minute without stopping so they can avoid awkward silence breaks? Ha.

The thought makes James want to instantly puke.

He hates this party, but he doesn’t want to, actually, he can’t, leave Regulus here with this idiot to do to him whatever the hell he pleases out of James sight. Fuck. He doesn’t even want to think about that. He hates absolutely everything that’s happening right now, but, most of all, he hates Barty Crouch. The reason? Barty Crouch is an idiot.

And he stole James’ football.

#jegulus #jealous james potter #dead gay wizards #james potter #barty crouch jr #regulus black #jegulus microfic #alternate universe #english is not my first language! #it's my first time posting anything I write and I'm kinda nervous #bare with me #wrote the whole thing whilst listening to disintegration by the cure so it turned out more angsty than I expected #light angst #repetitive wrong use of the word literally #clueless james potter #starchaser #jegulus fic #sunseeker

[elliewill]

A FOOL'S GAME

summary - an angsty drabble of fem reader leaving an emotionally troubled ellie warnings - angsty arguing, strong language, mentions of infidelity, sad feelings word count - 1.4k credits: divider credit, gif credit a/n: written with "a pearl" by mitski in mind. def listen on replay while reading!

"If you told me that this would be the way we'd end up..." you started. But your breath caught itself on the painful lump in your throat. You began to laugh in disbelief, mostly to shake off the urge to cry. "I would have never believed you."

She couldn't help but avert her gaze. So much so, that you secretly wondered if she felt she'd turn to stone if she met your eyes. Maybe in some way, she would. She was embarrassed. Cheeks pink, ears red, jaw clenched with tension. She leaned against her desk, arms crossed, frozen almost. Eyes glued to the floor.

"And here we are. You don't want to touch me... You can't even fucking look at me."

Despite your words, Ellie remained unmoved. You began to wonder if her silence meant that she actually felt guilty, or whether it was just indignation. You knew she had a bad habit of never admitting when she was wrong.

"I never meant to hurt you," Ellie broke the silence, embarrassment in her voice, with her eyes now stuck on her busted sneakers. "I wasn't thinking and I wish I-"

"You don't get to say that," you cut her off, nearly scolding her. Her green eyes finally flew up to meet yours, and your heart sank to your stomach. "You don't get to tell me you didn't mean to hurt me and go do what you did." "They were stupid, shitty mistakes, and I know that, and I'm sorry." Ellie rambled with pleading eyes, almost scrambling to find all the right words to make this go away. She pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on and walked toward you, a gentle hand out to hold your arm. "I don't want... I can't lose you."

A wave of dread washed over you. All you've wanted is for her to love you the way you've loved her. To want you the way you've wanted her. She used to tell you how terrified she was of losing you. But with Ellie looking at you the way she was, you couldn't help but wonder if she was only saying this now just to save her ass. You reluctantly swallowed the thought and let her have her word.

"There's a lot I don't talk about anymore and I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry things have been getting worse, and it's not that I don't want you, I just..."

"And you just what?" you scoffed, belittling Ellie's explanation. The disdain in your voice made Ellie furrow her eyebrows, hurt flashing on her features for a fleeting moment. You were almost sorry for saying anything. "All those nights staying up and laughing. You were able to sleep through the night and eat a full meal again. We used to talk about everything and nothing... what the fuck happened to us?"

Silence.

Ellie looked away and out the window at the gentle flurries of snow. She sighed deeply, chewing the inside of cheek with her eyebrows furrowed. She felt it. You were getting tired of her. All the shit she's put you through, and you had finally reached your breaking point. She knew you deserved better, but Ellie was a selfish girl in love. She would never able to tell you to leave - and mean it.

"I don't even feel real anymore."

You had always been almost convinced that if you loved her enough, the pink would return to her cheeks. That maybe, the butterflies she'd feel when her name fell from your lips would quiet the maggots eating her up inside. But even in between stolen kisses and nights spent together, she’d never spare the breath to tell you about the trouble you always knew was brewing beneath the surface. She assumed if she remained in blissful ignorance of her own feelings, it would eventually go away. No tears to be had and regretted.

But she made her own mistakes anyway. You almost didn't feel bad for her anymore.

"So you go out and do this? Instead of talking to me?" you shot back, wishing her the same sadness that sat in your chest and pooled in your eyes. You moved away from the gently placed hand on your arm, spurning any of her affection toward you. "Did it feel real when you fucked her? Was it that good? Just had to keep going back for more? Maybe I'll go fuck someone else, too. How 'bout an ex to make it even?"

Seeing your eyes become glossy and talk about sleeping with an ex stirred self-disgust in Ellie's gut. She felt backed into a corner, forced to see her own reflection. God, she felt pathetic for having put you through it all. But like clockwork, the accountability only went so far before she scornfully projected. Her eyes darkened, and she took a step back to sneer at you.

"You know what? Maybe you should. Cause this shit right here?" she fired back, gesturing to the both of you. "Maybe this was the biggest mistake I've ever fucking made."

The last words that left her mouth struck you breathless. That nasty lump rising higher in your throat stoked the nausea you felt at her words. You could tell that your silence made Ellie itch. The inner corners of your eyebrows were raised and a dejected smile spread across your lips.

"THIS? This was your biggest mistake?" you laughed through your tears incredulously. "I never know what's going on in your head, El. You'd tell me you love me and you don't want to lose me. Kiss me one day and refuse to touch me the next. Find you fucking someone else, and that this hadn't been the first time...and here I am, making more fuckin' excuses for you."

"Then stop making them!" Ellie threw her hands up and then let them down, slapping her thighs in exasperation."Jesus Christ, I said I was sorry! What the fuck else do you want me to say? I fucked up, I know!"

"You don't get it," you whispered bitterly while you shook your head gently, the tears running hot across your cheeks. "I fucking loved you, Ellie. I would've done anything for you... Who was there when Tommy couldn't even bring himself to look at you? When Dina promised you'd never see JJ again? The nights you couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat?"

"I didn't need your fucking help!" Ellie raised her voice over yours, the guilt eating away at her more quickly. "I never asked you to be there, I would've always been fine on my own. I never fucking needed you."

"...Got it." You nodded sarcastically, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks, snatching your backpack off of Ellie's couch. "All the hurt I put myself through to make sure you were okay? I guess that's my fault, huh?"

Ellie's heart quickened watching you grab your belongings to leave. But she stood there frozen and powerless, wanting to make it better but also wanting it all to be over. How did she manage to fuck this up so badly? She knew in the next minute or so, she'd have to watch you walk out of that door and never come back.

"You're so terrified of losing me, right?" You said whilst rummaging through a pocket of your backpack and pulling out a small black journal. It was a journal she'd given you full of just little sketches and doodles - some of you, some of you both together, some of silly things.

"Y/N. Don't. Please, let me just-"

You chucked the book at Ellie, who couldn't meet your eyes again but drew closer to you in an attempt to keep you from leaving. The book struck the side of her chest but like a brick wall, she remained there, shamefully gnawing the inside of her mouth, a strand of her auburn hair falling into her face. If you had stared at her long enough, you'd notice the tears she'd been trying to blink away.

"Fuck you, Ellie. You did this shit to yourself."

Her front door slammed behind you as you stormed out and stepped off her porch. The feeling of the frozen wind stinging your cheeks and rustling your hair was almost pleasant. Well, what now?

You said what you had to say. But the pit in your stomach only grew heavier, and you felt sick. Somehow you knew.

You knew that no matter how many times you leave, how many times she hurt you, you would always love her, like a fucking fool.

Maybe it was never truly better to have loved and lost. Maybe you would've been better off if you had never loved at all.

#yall be kind now 😭 #first time writing as ellie :0 #apologies in advance for all the angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #writings #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams

[teddybeartoji]

彡 A MASSIVE PILE OF GUILT

☆. contains: tooru oikawa x gn!reader; this is called angst i think (with comfort), reader plays volleyball and oikawa comforts them after they lost a match, reader talks badly about themselves:( i'm sorry, they swear they're just really really good friends but they're also just fucking stupid wc: 4k

in the blink of an eye the loud screams and cheers transform into a disgusting mix of muffled noises in your ears. the lights are too bright and you feel like you're stuck to the ground; stuck under hundreds pairs of eyes. you can't move, you can't breathe. your arm stings, a painfully clear reminder of your fuckup.

you should've had it, you saw it coming, you had a plan and yet - here you are, watching the colorfol ball hit the wall of the big arena with a quiet thud!. your eye twitches, locked onto the missed oppurtunity in a form a sphere sit metres away from you and your teammates.

because of you.

like a statue; turned into stone, you stand in your awkward position, unable to comprehend that it's over. that it's really over. it feels like everybody is looking at you, cursing you in their own heads. is this what drowning feels like? even if you could open your mouth to try and save yourself with a big breath of air, the stifling stench of losing would surely just make you choke harder.

a palm slaps onto your shoulder and you don't have to look at the person to know who it is – a dejected captain trying to pick up their loved teammates. you can't look at them; how could you? they're trying to cheer you up while you're the sole reason you lost in the first place. they give you a squeeze, a silent plea for you to snap out of it and you comply, not wanting to humiliate them any more.

you did well!

an arm around your shoulder, you're being dragged away from the court and you taste blood – the result of biting into the soft skin of your inner cheek in order to surpress a cry. the lights are too bright and you just want out.

after the handshakes and the formalities are done, your coach gives you all a pep talk. not that it helps but what else is there to say right now. you eat in almost complete silence; the only sounds in your ears being the chewing and the crying.

you've yet to do that. your lip wobbles and your eyes are red but so far, no tears. but you know you will – it'll be the only thing you'll be doing after you've locked yourself away into your room.

good game!

you feel sick. the food in your mouth is starting to taste like vomit and the water isn't helping either. still, you refuse to stop. refuse to raise your eyes from your table to ask whether you can leave. you will sit there as long as the others do and you won't complain. you will eat the food just like the others do and you won't complain. you don't get to do that.

the hugs feel just as suffocating as the eyes. you've never felt this bad in your whole entire life. you feel bad for thinking that the hugs feel suffocating – they're literally trying to comfort you and you're blatantly refusing it. stupid. stupid. stupid.

everyone has their own things they do after a loss. some like to be alone, some like to go for a run, some like to beat the fuck out of a punch bag and some like to do watch a comedy film with their teammates. it's silly; none of them laugh during it anyway. but it helps. you know it does because you've done it with them – not this time though. and they don't pressure you; they're not stupid, they understand how it feels. you need a moment and they will give it to you.

your captain does sit you down for a second before letting you go though, calmly telling you how it wasn't your fault and how you'll get it next time. and it sucks. it sucks that you don't hear it... it sucks that nothing will make this feeling go away. you know it and your captain knows it.

their warm hand resting on your back does soothe the shivers that have been tormenting you ever since you lost the ball. and for the first time since that moment, you crane your neck, raising your heavy head to meet their eyes and now you do feel like crying. the sadness is there, but so is the same warmth, the same adoration one has for their loved ones. nobody is upset with you, nobody blames you. their hand rises from your back and goes up to ruffle your hair as you let your head fall against their chest. "you're okay."

they hold you close as your tears soak their shirt. you hear a loud sigh and you know they're holding back theirs. the shivers are back and you hiccup out a broken i'm sorry, which makes the captain pull away immediately and grab your shoulders.

"don't. it wasn't your fault. it wasn't. you can cry as much as you want but that? you're not allowed to do that." there's a certain determination in their glassy eyes and you have no other choice but to weakly nod your head before letting it fall again.

"by the way, i saw you not eat properly, so i'm keeping an extra eye on you tomorrow morning, okay?" they poke your cheek and you're thankful. "i'm gonna watch the movie with the others but i'm keeping my phone close by, so if you want company at any time, just let me know."

you raise your head back up, desperate to show your appreciation for them and nod again, cracking the world's smallest and saddest smile and they ruffle your hair again before standing up. "you're okay."

they close the door behind them and you take a minute to compose yourself. you can't seem to stop your hands from shaking though and it makes you angry. your now empty room is too quiet and your own reflection in the window is taunting you with an ugly expression. is that really how you look like right now?

you don't wanna know and you don't want to keep looking at it either. so you grab your hoodie and your wallet and make your way to the lobby of the hotel. maybe the reflection in the vending machine won't be so mean.

and it isn't. it's not mean at all. it's the exact opposite actually. from the fact that it's staring at you with rather soft eyes to the fact that it's not your own reflection.

"good game, right?" you scare yourself with your own voice – already so harsh and raspy. it comes out mean and you wince. you tear your eyes from his, focusing on the sweet drink that's locked behind the glass instead.

oikawa is never this quiet and it makes you want to hit him. make a joke. just do it. just do it already. but he doesn't. his steps are quiet as he goes to lean on the vending machine. he's nothing if not observant; he sees your shaky hands pressing the buttons with so much effort; how the lips that are usually pulled into a beautiful grin he loves so much are now wobbling, ready to spill all of your sorrows. your clenched jaw as you try to avoid his gaze for whatever reason.

please, look at me.

the vending machine dings as the mechanics push your drink to you. his eyes are unforgiving and you know he means well. you know he's not gonna make fun of you, he's not gonna tease you – not now. but you still feel ashamed, whether he says the joke or not; the joke has already been made and it's right here, standing in front of a stupid pink vending machine.

your head shakes on it's own, casting shame on yourself on it's own. the drink falls with a loud thud! but before you can kneel down to get it, a hand on your wrist stops you.

his hand is so warm and it's unusual, considering he tends to be cold almost always. he doesn't push you and let's you take a deep breath before you raise your eyes to his.

if his heart wasn't shattered before, it sure is now. your eyes are red and glassy, but mostly tired, so tired. there's no glint in them, dull and sad. his hand slips from your wrist to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. "you did well."

your head falls back as you choke out a broken laugh. "oh, fuck off. i don't wanna fucking hear that. it makes me sick." staring at the ceiling, you shake your head again as if to rid of the words from your mind.

oikawa feels useless. he's been in your situation and yet, he can't think of anything good to say. he remembers how much he hated whenever people said that to him after their loss to karosuno. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat; everything he comes up with just makes him feel even more sick. he wants to cry because he doesn't know how to comfort you. how to make it all better.

"do you want me to stay with you?"

that's the best he can come up with. maybe just his presence will be enough when his words clearly aren't. but when you shake your head again, his heart sinks.

"that's alright. let's uh– ... tomorrow, yeah?" bringing your eyes down from the ceiling, you try to give him a reassuring smile that says i'm fine but it obviously doesn't work. you see the hurt in his eyes and you just feel bad. you feel bad for everything. you're upsetting people even off the court. you just can't help it can you?

"i'm good. i just need to be alone right now." you try again, squeezing his hand. his mouth opens but another voice cuts him off.

"oikawa!"

from around the corners emerges an angry looking iwaizumi. "here you fucking are. coach said it's bed time—"

when his eyes travel from his troublesome best friend over to yours, he swallows his words in an instant. you see the remorse wash over his face and you kind of want to laugh. it's all too funny in a fucked up way. "sorry for interrupting. hey, that was a really goo—"

good game!

he stops himself. fuck. what do you say in this situation?

"good game, i know. maybe next time it'll be a great one, hm?" the bitterness just oozes out of you without your consent, making iwaizumi wince. you feel bad.

pulling your hand from oikawa's, you kneel down to finally grab your nearly forgotten drink. "it's okay, really. i know what you mean."

another weak smile. a pathetic one. "see you at breakfast, yeah?"

oikawa shoving iwaizumi is the last thing you see as you're making your way back to your room. your hands still haven't stopped shaking and opening the door is so fucking hard. the key card slips from between your fingers—

breathe... in...

and out...

you kneel down and pick it up in slow motion as you're tunnel visioning on just getting inside the room. you hear the click! and you burst in, slamming the door shut. the ugly reflection is back and it's laughing at you and you can't do it anymore. your knees buckle from under you, hitting the soft carpeted floor as you weep. hunched over, you just look like a big pile of guilt.

clutching at your heart through your shirt, you cry and you cry, taking in raggedy breaths just to let out pathetic little sounds. everything hurts – your knees, your arms, your head, your eyes, your fingers, your legs, your inner cheek. you pretty much crawl to the bathroom, grabbing a handful of tissues before plopping right back down onto the floor. your nose hurts, too.

for almost an hour – you don't move from your spot, rooted and rotting into the carpet. it's pathetic. you think about how the others are watching the movie, shedding tears quietly but together, nonetheless. sick of your own actions, you push yourself up and change your clothes. you even manage to drink some water and wash your face in this half-alive state of being. a+ for effort, huh?

you bury yourself under the blanket, wishing the bed would swallow you whole instead. the tears have returned and you feel the pillow getting wetter and wetter by the second. you don't have it in you to grab another tissue though, letting the feeling of the soaked material remind you of your fuckup.

a floor and a few rooms away, oikawa can't stop pacing around. "but they said they didn't want me to go with them...."

"have you ever considered that people lie, idiot?" a tired iwaizumi replies from underneath his blanket on the bed. "especially in a situation like this. it's not like you were any better, you know."

oikawa just glares at him, although it's very hard for iwaizumi to take him seriously when he's wearing his matching plaid pj set. "but what if they get upset that i didn't listen to them?"

"but don't you wanna go and comfort them?" iwaizumi questions harshly. "don't you wanna be there for them? is your fear of overstepping more important than their well-being right now?"

oikawa thinks of your tired, sad eyes and his fingers twitch. "no."

"obviously, dick. go on, then. you have to be back for breakfast though or i'll punch you." iwaizumi states before turning away from his friend and disappearing completely under the blanket.

"you're so mean, iwa... can you not threathen to punch me every two seconds? i'm trying to be so good." oikawa mutters with a pout, grabbing his phone and his hoodie, ready to be your knight in shining armor. knight in plaid pyjamas more like.

"just go already." his friend grumbles and oikawa gifts him a small bye-bye as he's already halfway out the door. the next thing he knows, he's sprinting through the hallways, thanking himself in his head for making you tell him your room number the second he saw you this morning. he doesn't even take the elevator, instead taking triple steps up the stairs. he's also thanking himself for becoming an athlete.

knock! knock! knock!

dismissing that as just a noise from the room next door, you continue your sniffling but when the knocks repeat in a faster manner, you figure one of your teammates had forgotten their key card. so, ever so slowly you push yourself from the comfort of your bed and head over to the door while trying to wipe the tears from your eyes as to look at least a little bit more composed. you're even ready to crack a joke about them losing the card, desperate to disctract the person behind the door from yourself.

but it's not any of your teammates, nor is it your manager of your coach.

it's your oikawa instead – eyes wide open and slightly panting. "you said you don't want me here but i– fuck, how many steps can be between one floor..." he clutches his hand over his chest, the stupid comment slipping out all on its own.

for a millisecond, for a fraction of time, the corners of your lips turn upward but they fall just as fast back down, leaving you both just standing there, staring at each other.

your eyes look way worse now; way more red, way more tired, way more sad, way more dull than a mere hour ago. he should've come here sooner and he imagines iwaizumi slapping the back of his head for his mistake.

"you said you wanna be alone but i don't care."

his blunt statement catches you a little off-guard, your eyebrows furrowing but oikawa just takes it as a green light. if you didn't want him there, surely you'd tell him that right away but you've been standing here with him for a almost half a minute and nothing.

he takes a step, closing the distance between the two of you. he pushes his glasses up on his nose and fiddles with his own fingers and it's weird again. he's nervous. but this isn't about him – it's about you. whatever he's feeling right now is nothing compared to what you're feeling and he just wants to be here for you.

for a second time today, he watches your bottom lip wobble and your chest rise as you take short sharp breaths. and for a second time today, a pair of eyes feel actually comforting. he's not trying to burn you, he's not trying to take back time and alter your actions. he's merely observing instead of dissecting. he's ready to catch you when you fall.

and you do. it's hard not to when he's standing in front of you and looking at you so fondly. your head falls against his strong chest, hands tucked between your bodies as his firmly wrap around you. he takes another step inside and closes the door behind him with his foot.

he listens to you cry into him, he feels your tears on his shirt and through it, on his skin. your hands grasp onto the material, bunching it up in your fists and he just holds you tighter against him.

"you're gonna win next time, i promise" he murmurs.

but when you just sob out a but i wanted to win this time, his heart aches so bad he thinks he's going to die.

oikawa curses at himself for walking right into that one and this time he swears he feels iwaizumi slap the back of his head for real. but he has no time to pity his poor choice of words when he feels your hands clutching at him just where his heart is.

he whispers a quiet i know and you sniffle again. he starts drawing soothing circles onto your back with his palm and he feels so warm. releasing his shirt from your hold, you snake your hands around his body instead, burrowing your face even more into his chest and you faintly hear him coo. it's the first time ever that he's done it in a genuine way and it's the first time you haven't felt the need to punch him for it.

his hand rests on the back of your head, keeping you in your place as he gently sways the both of you from side to side. "i got you."

after some time, he feels you going slack against him and decides to guide you to the bed. he climbs in with you and safely tucks you into the crook of his neck and lets you cry some more as he whispers it's okay against your temple. he just hopes that he's actually helping, that his words actually have an effect. god, he hopes he's making it at least a bit better for you.

he is. he's doing more than he could ever imagine. the thick goo of guilt and shame seems to be draining out of you when you feel his lips brush against your skin. he just might be washing the it off of you with his quiet praise. his words don't sound condescending nor do they sound fake. he means it when he says that you really did do well.

the tears have dried by now and oikawa can feel your eyelashes fluttering against his neck. the long tiring day is finally catching up to you as your breathing slows. he rests his head on top of yours and presses your body indifinitely closer to his. the tips of his fingers dance across your skin, drawing little circles and hearts as he soaks in the sight of you relaxing against him under the moonlight.

"did..."

your meek voice makes him crane his neck back so he can look at you better, ready to hear out whatever complaint you have, ready to comply to whatever request you have.

"did iwaizumi send you?"

...

"WHAT?" it comes out way louder and in a way higher pitch than he'd intended it to. he immediately clears his throat but his eyebrows are still furrowed. "i wanted to come here, why would you say that..."

he still can't see your face clearly from this angle but the way your body moves, is telling him that this isn't you crying anymore. this is you laughing.

"are you– are you fucking laughing at me right now?" he questions, trying to pry you from his neck to confirm his suspicion. and he's fucking right. when you finally unlatch yourself from his body and roll onto your back, you have the tiniest, smallest smile on your lips and oikawa's mouth falls slack. "i wanted to come! i– i'm a good friend!"

it shouldn't be this funny. it really shouldn't because he is a good friend, isn't he? he's here now, holding you, comforting you; he came to you and you're now making fun of him. but you can't help it, the thought of iwaizumi "lecturing" him is silly in this moment. not that you doubt that he came here only because of that, of course. but knowing him, you just think he probably needed a push to actually do it.

oikawa holds himself up above you, observing the small freckles that adorn your face. your eyes are still red and still tired but... the small little glint is back. the same one that's always there when you make fun of him. or when you laugh.

"i literally ran here and this is how you treat me?"

"you're telling me it took you an hour to run up the stairs? i thought you were a volleyball player, shouldn't your stamina be better–" you poke at his chest (right where his heart is) and he lets out a very loud and a very dramatic gasp. "or did your boyfriend have to convince you to come over and console me?"

oikawa's lips tilt into a smirk, happy to hear you barking at him at last. "first of all, don't ever call him my boyfriend ever again–" he situates himself next to you, so his both hands are free. you should've seen this coming, too. "and second of all, you really oughta treat me better."

before you can taunt him with a good old "or what?", his hands are tickling your sides, fingers dancing along your skin as laughter bubbles up from your throat. you try to fight him off, hands clutching onto his in order to stop his torment but to no avail.

"i am... trying... to be.... a good... friend... and this is... what i get... huh..." he rasps as he continues soaking in the sound of your laughter.

"you're.... always... in it for something... that's not... a... real friend... tooru..." you breathe back with a grin and he stops. he doesn't take his hands off of you though, just resting them on your waist.

"you're spending way too much time with iwaizumi, you're both just so mean to me." he's pouting. oikawa is sitting back on his legs and he's actually pouting.

"am i gonna have to console you now?"

"yes." he deadpans.

...

you push yourself up onto your elbow and lean up to boop his nose. "you're stupid."

"no, you're stupid." he grins back.

he has his ways of getting you out of a slump, he always has. him sitting here on your tiny little bed, pouting and laughing is only merely of them. you couldn't wish for a better friend. his hands feel so warm on you and you're so grateful. sitting up, you slap your hands on his shoulders (which of course, makes him wince in a very over the top way). "thanks for coming, tooru."

he rolls his eyes. "pffft."

...

pfft?

"excuse me?" you glare at him and he decides that you and iwaizumi can never hang out ever again.

"i– i meant– yeah, of course. anything for you." he stutters out as you keep glaring at him. he then leans in closer, so much so that your noses are almost touching. "i'm really proud of you, you know."

heat crawls up from your neck and you feel the tips of your ears warm up, overwhelmed by the sudden genuine praise. but you can't let him have the upper hand. not now, not ever. he'll never let you live it down.

"your breath stinks, you know."

his eyes close with another incredibly dramatic sigh as he rests his forehead against yours but while doing so, he takes notice of your hot skin and the way you giggle, and translates it into your language –

thank you.

#everybody say hi oikawa welcome to loserville oikawa #it was gloomy outside so i ofc had to cook up some sad shit smh #first time for oikawa so yk as usual i am very nervous #is he too soft here #idk #it is what it is #wtf mickey can write #oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru fanfic #oikawa tooru imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu fanfic #tooru oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader #hq x gn!reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa fluff #oikawa drabble #oikawa angst

[inhuman-obey-me]

Hello! Congratulations of 4000+ followers! Y'all do amazing writing, and its been really cool to see the blog grow overtime

For the event, may I request⚡️with Diavolo and yes on MC! Thank you so much, and I hope y'all have a good day

Thank you so much!! ;//u//; And also thank you for sticking around for so long -- it really does mean a lot! 💕

"What good is this "great power" of mine? Absolutely everything slips through my fingers." - Diavolo/MC

You hadn’t asked for this power. 

No, it was something that had been thrust into your hands, into your very being as the trajectory of your life changed the instant you opened your eyes and found your gaze held by pools of gold in an unknown and dangerous world. It was that one moment that began the unraveling, the revealing of all that you were and to be. 

It seems like such a distant memory now, that first day in the Devildom. 

No, you hadn’t asked for this power, but you didn’t refute it either. You had welcomed it, reveled in it. You had been plunged into a world of magic and monsters, angels and demons, witches and sorcerers – and you, a mere human who had been oblivious to the very real existence of this world in the shadows, were considered to be one of the most powerful mortals among it. 

And yet, as of late, you had been feeling absolutely powerless.

“Love, you’ve barely touched your food.” Diavolo’s gentle voice brings you out of your thoughts, and you look up now to meet those same golden eyes you first held all those years ago. His gaze flickers to your hand, where you’ve been fidgeting with the Ring of Light. The one thing stopping your very existence from ending the world as you knew it.

“Sorry,” You give him an apologetic smile as you lift your fork, letting it slowly sink into one of the vegetables on your plate. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Care to share?” He’s worried. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

“I know.” A sigh, and you set your fork down as you lean back in your chair. You try to find the words, your emotions half-formed on your tongue. “It’s just…with everything going on, I feel rather…useless.” 

“Useless? You?” Diavolo nearly scoffs, leaning forward in bewilderment. “What makes you think that? Surely, we’ve all told you how you’ve done so much for us, for the Three Realms.” 

“Have I, though?” You feel your throat begin to tighten, so you try to force your feelings down. “Everyone says that, and sure, to some extent I’ve played my part. But,” Your fingers tighten around the napkin in your lap. “You all have helped each other. I’ve just been a conduit, and sometimes I…I’ve been more of a problem to solve than a solution.” 

“That’s not true–”

“But it is!” 

Your voice cracks then, and you realize you can’t keep down the swirl of doubt and agony any longer. Before you even feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, you find Diavolo now right beside you, holding your hands in his. 

“My love, you hold more power than you can even begin to imagine.”

“And what of it!” You hastily remove your hands from his grasp, waving to the air around you. “What good is this ‘great power’ of mine?” The tears have escaped, and there’s a pang in your chest. “Absolutely everything slips through my fingers. I’ve barely begun to understand it and…and I don’t even know if I could save the very ones I care about from those that wish them harm.” Your eyes flicker to the ceiling, and you try to blink back the salt that hasn’t already slid down your cheeks. “I’ve come closer to destroying everything with it!” 

The silence that follows your outburst is heavy. Diavolo examines your visage with a somber expression, his lips that so often are curved into a grin now taut and straight. It feels like ages before he finally speaks. 

“It’s a terrible feeling, isn’t it?” You don’t know if you’ve ever heard his voice so low before. He was a demon who could make a whole room shake with his jovial laugh. “There are days where I, too, feel utterly powerless.” 

“You?” Grasping at that napkin again, you bring it up to dry your face. “But–”

“I’m the ruler of the Devildom? One of the most powerful beings in the Three Realms? Yes, my dear. All great power comes with its golden chains, with its obstacles.” With a heavy sigh, Diavolo looks around the lavish dining hall you were both seated in. “A faction of the House of Lords continuously tries to undermine me, scheming behind my back to try and throw me out of my position.” His gaze now falls onto a painting on the distant wall, brushstrokes capturing war and fury. “The Celestial Realm tests my patience, mocking me at times as they play their own games, mainly of semantics.” 

He turns his attention back to you with a sad smile. “They’re all waiting to find a crack, see what will bring me down to my knees. They’ve nearly succeeded at times. Made me feel like I was just a child playing at king. Made me feel that no matter the power I possessed, they could still pull the rug from under me.” 

His hands find yours again, and this time you let them stay. 

“But what I found is that despite it all, despite all the power that I possess, what really puts my feet on solid ground is having those who still stand by my side through it all.” He looks deep into your eyes, and once more you’re captivated by that calming gold.

“And you, darling, have some of the best by yours.”

#first time I've written in months and of course this got so much longer than intended ajlsdf #anyways not enough people talk about season 2 mc angst #obey me #obey me! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #omnb #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble #4000 follower celebration #writings #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos

[lolishdes]

❝He Loves me not❞ || Diluc x Reader

✧A/N: NOW THIS IS A HEAVY ONE BABES, I wanted to try something different since I mostly write lovey dovey or smutty stuff. This time I wanted to try making something more on the angsty side. Read the warnings first before proceeding !

Oh! Also, this is part of a Diluc Series I'm cooking up 👀, they are all one shots tho, none of them connect to one another. So expect more Diluc stuff from me !

✧Warning/s: Toxic Marriage, Cheating, Argument gone physical, Smut

✧Synopsis: In a modern AU wherein Diluc and you have an arranged marriage  and though at first you don't have high hopes of this union, you still gave it a chance… oh how regretful you are for such a choice.

✧Word Count: 2.9k words

Minors kindly don't interact!

He was never yours to begin with. From the moment you saw the way he looked at her…you knew you had already lost. 

It was your engagement party and you have invited all of your loved ones to celebrate. Both Diluc and you are currently busy attending and chatting with the guests. Everyone kept complimenting you on how much you're practically glowing that night, that it must be good karma considering how good your life has been going so far. And you couldn't agree more, everything seems so right…so perfect. 

Despite how transactional your engagement with Diluc was, this man has somehow crept into your heart. He was quite intimidating at first yet somehow you knew there was a hint of softness in him. His face would hold indifference yet his touch was warm and gentle. And for that you do not regret saying yes to meeting him. 

You excuse yourself from the group of guests and want to see your soon to be husband. You couldn't seem to find him from the sea of people..strange considering that his red hair always makes him stand out. By the corner you see Rosaria and Kaeya enjoying some drinks and snacks while they converse with one another. You approach them to ask Kaeya where his brother could be.

“Hey Kae, have you seen Diluc anywhere? I can't seem to find him?” Kaeya quirks his eyebrow and puts the wine glass down his lips. “I believe he went that way, by the garden. I saw him going there with Jean.” Jean? Who in Celestia was Jean? Probably one of his relatives you thought. You thanked Kaeya and exited the banquet hall. 

The garden was a little wide but it was easy enough to find your way. You ended up a little deeper into the garden and started hearing faint voices, one of which you could recognize. You don't know why, but your gut feeling told you to keep your mouth shut and approach them quietly. As you approached nearer you peaked at the two people that were hiding behind some grass walls. 

Your heart sank at the sight.

Diluc had one of his arms wrapped around the woman's waist and his other hand found itself on her cheek, tenderly caressing her. His eyes…it's as if he was worshiping the very ground she walked in. And the woman…Jean, looked back at him with the same affections as she smiled at him warmly.

You retreat back to hiding behind the grass walls, yet not leaving just yet. “You're here.” Diluc spoke gently, a hint of joy in his tone. Jean gave a gentle laugh. “Yes I am, in the flesh. and I intend to stay here a little longer.” Although you cannot see what they are doing, you are most definitely sure they just share a kiss after that. Your whole body starts to shake and your eyes are getting blurry from the tears that are threatening to fall down. In that moment you can't seem to speak nor move, you felt powerless, alone and…vulnerable. 

You felt betrayed and yet did nothing about it…months later you were then wed. 

…He didn't even call your name during the wedding night. You know damn well that as he was thrusting himself inside you and kissing you passionately on the lips it wasn't you on his mind…it was her. Those sweet pet names he was giving you? That's all for her. And still you pretended as if you knew nothing of his crimes. As you both reached your climax tears were falling down your eyes. But these weren't because of pure bliss, but it was due to your husband calling out another woman's name silently under his breath while still burried inside you. 

“Oh Jean..”

–––––––––

Fixing yourself in front of your vanity, you applied some gloss on your lips before giving it a pop to really apply the product evenly. You were almost completely dressed up for the party and were satisfied with how you looked in front of the mirror. You gave a satisfied nod to yourself before grabbing the clutch on your bed and heading to the door.

You grabbed your pair of black heels that were inside the shoe cabinet and  bent a bit to wear them ,behind you you could hear footsteps. “And where do you think you're going at this time and hour?” You didn't have to turn around to know who spoke.

“Just going to a birthday celebration, remember my friend Yelan? It's her 29th birthday.” “And where is this party located exactly?” You finished buckling the straps on your heels and stood up properly. “Just at her home, we wanted some space for ourselves and she's going to bring out her best alcohol.” You answered every question he had, but your tone sounded as if you didn't have any time for him. That irritated the red head a bit.

You turn around to face your husband, he was still in his work clothes, The sleeves of his button up were folded up and a few buttons were undone, and his red hair was down. His arms were crossed and he had his default resting bitch face. “Will be home by 10pm, don't worry I won't be drinking too much.” really though, It was unnecessary to tell him all this. In the end he doesn't care where you go, who you go with, or even what time you'll arrive home. It's always been that way. 

He stopped loving you the day she entered back into his life.

“I’ll be heading off now, don't overwork.” 

–––––––––

Driving slowly before coming to a full stop as you arrived at Yelans house. Her house was gorgeous, very modern and yet simplistic, just the way she likes it. You parked your car just outside her house and went for the entrance to ring her doorbell. Yelan shouted “Coming!” from a distance before rushing to open the door for you. “Ah here you are, just in time.” She gave you a quick hug before welcoming her to her home.

Thing is, no one was inside the house other than you and Yelan. She just wanted a simple birthday with her best friend, throwing some grand birthday wasn't really her thing to begin with. And you're more than happy to entertain her. “Gods glad you came! And here I thought I would celebrate this precious day all alone.” She jokingly said as we walked to her mini bar. 

You hopped on to a seat as Yelan went behind the counter to make some drinks. “We both know I would definitely be coming today. It's your birthday after all! Besides, there's not much to do in that house anyways. As much as possible I’d like to get out when given the opportunity.” You rested your cheek on your palm.

Yelan gives a worried look before sighing. “Is he still hooked on…her?” She pushes a drink towards me. I scoffed and took a sip. “Yeah, he is.” Yelan rolled her eyes at that before leaving the counter and sitting beside you. “He left a few weeks ago, saying it was for business purposes…But after his trip I cleaned his bag for his laundry and found some dirty panties in one of the pockets. And obviously this isn't some souvenir he got in some stall.” You took a swing of your drink and finished the whole glass. Yelan sees this and a concerned look is on her face. You wiped any excess alcohol on the corner of your lips and continued.

“The bastard is getting sloppy.” A grim look was on your face as you're telling Yelan all this. Yelan looks at you, dead serious in the eyes. “Y/N, we both know you deserve better than this.” You look at your best friend with somber eyes. "I know, but I just—" "Ah ah stop talking for a moment." Yelan interrupts.

"I know you love him...but don't you think perhaps it's time to face the fact that Diluc doesn't love you? Because if he did, the moment he saw that woman at your engagement party he would be running straight at you, showing to everyone and to her especially that he was already spoken for."

You grip on the glass tighter. Perhaps it's not love that's keeping you in this marriage. Sure you used to love him...but all that love went down the drain the night of your honeymoon. Maybe it's guilt, guilt at the very fact that you allowed for things to get this bad. That when you had the opportunity to stop this torture sooner— you just didn't.

And now that you're married to him, you thought that you might as well finish what you've started...even though it hurts.

“...Thanks Yelan, you're really helping me through this." You gave her a quick hug. "Well anyways enough about my fucked up life, lets talk about you, yeah?” Yelan wiggled her index finger in front of you. “Oh no no no don't you dare change the subject. I'm all ears right now.” 

“What? No! It's your birthday for celestia's sake, I'm not spending your precious day complaining about my marriage!” Yelan places her hand on top of yours. “My dear, I love nothing more than shit talking, so…” She grabs her drink and raises it in front of me. 

“Drink up.”

–––––––––

Time seems to be flying fast as you hadn't realized it was already late at night. Not only that but you drank way past your limit, it would be dangerous to be out and about on the road, so Yelan insisted you'd stay for the night. Not having much of a choice you flopped on the bed and immediately dozed off to sleep.  By the time you woke up it was already 8 in the morning, you groaned as you stretched and sat up from the bed, rays of sunlight finding their way past the curtains. 

You feel the hangover settle in, fortunately it's not that unbearable. You walked down the stairs and to the kitchen there you found breakfast was already made for you and a sticky note just near it. 

‘Gonna go out for a run! Here's some breakfast and a pain reliever, if it's really unbearable don't hesitate to stay a little longer ;D’

- Yelan 

You chuckled reading this before eating the breakfast infront of you. After doing so you freshened up a bit in the bathroom and cleaned up the room you just stayed in. You don't want to be inconsiderate and leave any traces of mess, especially since you're just a guest. After doing everything necessary you locked the door behind you and went to your car. You just remembered you promised Diluc that you'd be home by 10…Ah whatever, he doesn't give a damn anyways. You're even sure that by now he's still rested nicely in his bed. 

While on the road you reflect back to what Yelan said...she's right. That night could have been different, instead of heading back home earlier to cry myself to sleep, I could've celebrated my engagement party to the fullest. Nothing but smiles and joy, with Diluc beside me...proud to be called husband and wife soon...

But that's all a fairy tail. Such delusions are far from the truth and as you reach closer to home you know exactly what you have to do.

Driving back home there wasn't any traffic on sight. Though, considering that it's a Sunday morning, most people are still in their beds resting. 

After parking your car inside the garage you made your way inside your home. You threw your clutch on the couch and made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But waiting there was your husband as he was eyeing you dangerously. “What happened to being at home at 10?” He takes a sip of his coffee and looks straight at you.

You're in disbelief at his attitude, why should he even give a damn about where you've been. You divert your eyes to one of the cabinets to get a glass. “Yeah about that, I got a little too carried away with the drinks. I couldn't drive properly so I stayed there at Yelans for the night.” You poured yourself a glass of water while still avoiding eye contact. Diluc doesn't seem to like this. “Can you please look at me while talking?” 

You let out a frustrated inhale and just finished your glass of water to just leave, this morning you seem to have little to no patience for Diluc. You start to walk off but Diluc gets up from his chair and follows behind you. “Hey what's going on? Talk to me!” You continue to walk up the stairs ignoring your husband. He grabs your arm and stops you before you could enter the bedroom. “What the hell is your problem? Why aren't you answering me–!” “YOU ARE THE DAMN PROBLEM ‘LUC!”

You finally blew up. After months, even years of holding it in, you finally blew up on his face. You rip your arm off from his grip. “Don't you dare pretend you don't know. Because I know we both fucking know what’s wrong.” Only the sound of heavy breathing can be heard, both of you stood there silently as you spoke in almost a whisper. 

“I can't do this anymore, Luc. It fucking hurts and I can’t stand seeing your selfish lying face–!” “Then why?” Diluc interjects, he looks at you coldly. “Then why did you stay? Why didn't you say anything? If it hurts so fucking much then why did you let all of this happen–!” “Dont you fucking DARE make me the villain here, Ragnvindr!” 

You point a finger towards Diluc, there was no more holding back at this point. “I have foolishly led myself to believe that I might even have a sliver of chance in your heart, but it's clear now that you're only thinking about that whore of a woman!”

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT” “WELL AM I FUCKING WRONG? THAT'S WHAT SHE IS IN OUR MARRIAGE, RIGHT? JUST SOME DIRTY SECRET YOU HIDE.” Diluc’s hand suddenly wraps around your throat, pinning you to the wall. His grip is merciless while his eyes only bore rage. He wants to be fucking angry well two can play that game.

“Ohh what's wrong? I thought we were talking this out. Did I hit a nerve?~” You were mocking him, an almost maniac smile was on your face as you're laughing at him. His attempts to shield his woman were ridiculous, he's going so low to the point of physically hurting you. Both of your eyes never left one another, as if challenging the other to look away, but neither of you faltered.

Your grin at him, enjoying the very fact that this time the roles were reversed, this time he was the one who was agitated. 

"I'm done playing pretend, so why don't you do the same." Despite how hard it was to speak, you still had some bite in you.

A vein could practically pop from Dilucs head from how angry he is, he looks at you with pure hatred– as if you are the most vile thing he has ever seen. He inches closer at you, doing his best to intimidate you more. Both of you could practically feel each other's breath– it’s hot and heavy. There were no words being exchanged yet Diluc’s eyes somehow found themselves down to your lips, they were red and plump.

You were about to agitate him a little more when suddenly his lips crashed onto yours harshly. Without thinking you accepted the kiss, his hand was still on your throat but you wouldn't have his hand in any other place. His free hand wandered down to your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, pulling you closer to him. 

–––––––––

Clothes were scattered all over the floor, hands were wandering and groping everywhere. There were no signs of stopping or slowing down. At one point you found yourself on top of Diluc, straddling him and taking control instead. “Nice view, is this what she saw 2 weeks ago, hm?” You mock him, his hands are then on your hips as he forces you to push yourself deeper into him. “Shut your mouth and just keep moving.” You only go faster and deeper, Diluc groans beneath you.

While riding him you're playing with yourself to help you reach your climax faster. Diluc watches the view before him, and as much as he wants to deny it but you look fucking hot right now. All angry yet horny at the same time. 

You comb some hair out of your face and look down at Diluc, you can see that he's close, but so were you. As you quicken your pace  you grab a hold of his face and force him to look at you “When you fucking cum I want you to scream my name, for once in your damn life call out the name of the woman that made you feel good.”

Diluc scoffs at this, “In your fucking dreams.” You hum in disappointment and slow down your pace. “If you don't, then I'm leaving you here with your cock still hard.” The red head groaned at this and grips on his hips a little tighter. “Fuck– fine fine!” You smile down at him. “That's better~” Quickening your pace, both of you continue to moan and pant out in pleasure, removing every single edge and hatred from 2 hours ago. 

“Oh god I’m close!” Your thrusts are getting sloppier by the second, desperate for that release. On the other hand Diluc is panting beneath you as he looks at how you're taking him in so well. “Y/N I’m close too– Shit!” You grip onto his bare shoulders as you're about to cum. “Oh god I’m coming !” Shutting your eyes as you release, Diluc gives a strong thrust upwards as he releases his load inside of you. 

–––––––––

It was already 3 in the morning as you got up from the bed. Diluc was still fast asleep, but this was the perfect moment to start packing up your necessary things and head out to the door. You’ll file for a divorce later, but for now… 

You look down at the red head as he is sleeping peacefully. You remove the ring off your finger, the ring that felt so heavy and ingrained into your skin. You can finally lift that weight. 

You head to the bathroom and get ready to leave. 

Alternative Ending

©All content belongs to lolishdes 2022. Please refrain from reposting (reblogs are appreciated !).

#diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact #diluc genshin impact #genshin smut #IM LOSING SO MUCH SLEEP DEAR LORD #its worth it thought cause fuck yeah i wanna make you all happy #also please have mercy its my first time writing angst its not my forte people

[sinisterexaggerator]

Uncharted Territory

Hunter x Gen! Reader

Warnings: None. Fluff and a kiss. A little bit of angst in relation to wartime and heartfelt goodbyes.

686 words

Notes: I decided to write a series of "goodbye" ficlets where the reader takes / removes something from each of CF99 as they part ways.

Crosshair || Echo || Wrecker || Tech

---

War was rampant; your situation was not special, yet guardian angels had been delivered to your doorstep. They were clones, though unique in comparison to all the others, tools of the Republic who had come to save the day.

Even so, their stay was short. You had offered them your home and an open hearth. The leader of the pack had expressed his gratitude for your hospitality, those men who had been stationed on your planet the last few weeks finally packing up their things in preparation to vacate your humble village.

Hunter came for one last visit, alone, wanting to privately address you and the time you had spent together. He was used to hard goodbyes, though this was uncharted territory.

You were sure he could hear the pounding of your heart, the stoic sergeant pausing before your open door. Managing to keep your grace, you ushered him inside, somehow fighting off the deep-seated ache that had taken root behind your ribs.

“Off so soon?” you asked, attempting to relieve a bit of tension, knowing good and well he had come to bid you a fond farewell. You were not sure your eyes would ever again meet his, so warm and brown, taking this time to commit to memory his tawny, tatted face.

“Unfortunately,” Hunter replied, making a motion with his hand. “We have to be on our way,” he stated, bringing attention to the fact he did not have much time to spare.

You would sigh, giving him the best smile you could muster. You were easily betrayed by your emotions, stepping forward toward the man who carefully studied your every move.

“You could always stay,” you proposed, knowing he would never leave his squad behind. It was wishful thinking, even if naïve to entertain.

“I can’t,” he breathed. He did not enjoy having to disappoint you. “Listen—” he started, but you would interrupt him by leaning forward to undo the knot of his bandana.

“One more time?” you asked; Hunter only nodded. Gently, you sifted your fingers through his chestnut locks.

Hunter closed his eyes, letting the sensation overwhelm him, nerve-endings tingling by way of your gentle caress. Plush lips parted as you ran the full course of his curls, this action repeated thrice when your hand finally came to rest along the bend of his strong jaw.

He would open them again just as you kissed him, settling into the soft flesh of your lips. He scooped you forward, pressing your body against his, firm and strong, and clad in that damned armor.

You surrendered in totality, sweetly moaning this clone’s name. “Hunter.”

As if ravenous, his tongue found yours, his embrace enveloping your form. He was a soldier; he was destined for battle. You could only give him this small reprieve.

And yet, it was too much, Hunter pulling back to keep himself in check. Everything about this felt too good, too right. It had to end before it could properly begin; he would be unable to find the motivation to leave this place or your cozy house.

You felt a brush against your other hand; Hunter softly squeezed your fingers around the bit of fabric in your possession. “You can keep it,” he offered, though you could only smile again.

You shook your head and moved to refit the bandana to its rightful place; you cinched the back and stood a pace away, admiring your work - more than that. He was worthy, a hero among his kind.

“No,” you started, “I have all I need to remember you by,” you promised, lightly resting your hand atop your chest.

Hunter’s own smile was subdued in return, bittersweet. “Stay safe; make sure I don’t have to rescue you again,” he playfully asserted.

“Don’t give me any ideas,” you muttered, gifting to him one final kiss; the feeling lingered, dying slowly, Hunter trusting that you would be all right.

Nothing more was to transpire. With that, he turned to rejoin his squad. Even if he was planning to depart from your muggy, Mid Rim world, Hunter would never leave your heart.

#Hunter #Hunter x Reader #Gender Neutral #TBB #The Bad Batch #TBB Hunter #Bad Batch Hunter #Star Wars #Clone Wars #Fanfiction #fluff #angst #my writing #idk just doing this on a whim #enjoy #:) #first time for this character

[updownlately]

midnight comes (and i go looking for you)

ficlet masterlist

~~~

It’s the sound of your phone ringing, and ringing, and ringing, you sat slumped in your living room as the clock nears twelve, the lights turned off, and your tear stained cheeks your only company.

It’s you waiting patiently for her to pick up, a second passing, then nearly a minute.

And just when you think it’s about to go to voicemail, just when you’re about to lose hope, lose your sanity, do you hear the familiar click, Leah’s confused ‘hello’ on the other end easing your aching heart just with her voice.

Your words are strained, just barely spoken, you holding back the tears that are threatening to fall as you're miles away from her- the blonde someone you once were able to call yours, now nothing more than a memory you cherished dearly, yet had no right to long for anymore.

“I- I miss you…”

#not proofread #literally wrote this in 5 minutes because the idea came to me as i listened to the song for the first time #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso community #my writing #five sentence ficlets #angst #mc(aiglfy)