#don't ask how the glasses stay in place without ears

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

#sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #big brother!sukuna

[pseudowho]

1st of December

No-Nut November is over-- but Nanami Kento won't let you get away with it that easily.

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November had been torture for you and Kento alike. Though you had been the one to suggest No-Nut November, it was Kento who had given it the real staying power. You had vastly overestimated your ability to rile him, and underestimated his ability to deny himself.

As November wore on, and you became more and more outrageous in your flirtations, Kento remained, as ever, stoic and patient, treating you with the calm, loving affection you would expect of a gentleman. You were in turns perplexed and incensed, and fully planning to refuse him on December 1st. You considered booking in overtime, just to be extra outlandish.

Kento was no idiot. Who had made your bed? You. Who would lie in it? You, though not with the added warmth of a naked companion. It didn't take long for Kento to realise that you genuinely thought yourself more patient than him, which was sweet, and foolish. He was, he thought on the morning of December the 1st, as he licked his thumb and folded over the page of his newspaper, nothing if not a vindictive gentleman.

You walked out of your shared bedroom, padding completely naked to the bathroom. Kento didn't even flinch. You came out of the bathroom, dripping wet from your bath, still completely naked. Kento tutted and mopped up your wet footprints. You came to the kitchen in your nicest underwear, a set which, coincidentally, Kento had chosen for you, and set to leaning over the counter, bottom wiggling, seemingly waiting for the kettle to boil.

Kento cleared his throat mildly and approached you from behind. You smirked...until he placed a chaste kiss to your temple, and rumbled against your ear. "I'm off to work," he said, standing as you spun to face him, aghast, "I've booked us a table tonight. Be ready for seven?"

You gaped at him, and he dipped his head, eyebrows raised lightly, eyes unreadable behind green glass. "Is that...alright darling?" he inquired, hands rubbing your upper arms softly, a picture of genuine concern. You eked out a small, "mhm", and Kento smiled at you, kissing you again on the forehead with an exaggerated "mwah", and headed towards the door.

"Don't do anything fun without me, now," he called, and the door clicked shut, to his satisfaction, to baffled silence. You stood, stunned, and a horrible realisation came over you; you had genuinely tried to manipulate Nanami Kento, and it had got you absolutely nowhere, apart from straight into the palm of his hands. Sinking to your haunches in your lovely underwear, you buried your face in your hands, absolutely mortified.

What was the point of this wildly stupid game? No-Nut November? He's going to extend this into Don't Do-It December, I know he is, you thought to yourself, agonised. Truth be told, you were absolutely desperate. You had wanted to crawl into Kento's lap on the sofa, toss his newspaper aside, and ride him until he cried for mercy. He had made no effort to hide himself from you, his wonderful body still absolutely available for you to touch, if you so chose, but had treated your body with all the gentlemanly grace and dignity afforded to a Victorian maiden. It had driven you mad with lust.

You stewed, all day. You couldn't believe this ridiculous man was going to take you out for dinner, when you should have been dinner. You seethed and sulked through the contents of your wardrobe, begrudgingly planning your outfit for the evening, considering wearing a bin bag because god knows he's not going to touch me anyway.

Kento chuckled to himself the whole drive to work. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Swirling his coffee cup and taking a hearty swig as he paused at traffic lights, he grew hard in his trousers at the thought that he knew exactly how this evening was going to pan out.

If anybody had tried to ask Kento to stay late that day, he'd have asked them to jump off a bridge. As such, he arrived home promptly, telling you that you looked lovely (you did), and that he couldn't wait for dinner (he couldn't), and that we should get going soon. You remained tightly genial to him, to his amusement; after all, who could be cross at their fiancé booking a lovely candlelit meal?

Kento was the picture of a well-mannered date. He offered his arm as you walked together to the taxi. He opened your door for you. He had already pre-paid. The restaurant was exclusive, how long has he been planning this? The table already had a bottle of bubbly, crisp and sweating in an ice bucket.

You could barely speak to the man. You were swinging wildly between indignant fury, deep embarrassment, and unquenchable thirst. You had absolutely no idea which persona to lay on the table between you, and Kento knew it. You both knew it. The unspoken topic of sex was now taboo, and Kento remained patient, imploring you to take him to task for his refusal to be anything other than a gentleman.

Kento was sweet, attentive. He asked you about your day, and cared about the answer. He looked at you with adoring eyes, drawing envious glances from other women around the room. Your fingers plaited together, his thumb stroking your palm softly, and as he leaned in towards you through soft candlelight, your stomach swooped, your desperation growing by the second.

"Do you not want to-- I mean, did you not want to--" you blurted out, your blush rushing through you in a flood of heat as Kento eyed you sideways over his wine glass, thin eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed and gently inquisitive.

"Want to...want to...what?" he teased. Oh, this is delicious, he delighted to himself as your lip curled into an indignant, comedically downturned frown.

"Cut the crap, Kento!" you hissed, leaning forwards to him, "It's been a month since we've had sex. Aren't you...desperate?" you finished weakly. Kento coughed mildly, dabbing his lips with a napkin as your plates were taken away by a furiously blushing waiter.

"Well, darling, it takes two to tango. I'd never force you to sleep with me if you don't want to." His amber eyes flicked coolly upwards at you, over the rim of his wineglass, "Do you want to?"

You sighed, resigned, defeated, "Of course I want to--"

"Then beg."

You gaped at Kento again. A mortified flush spread up your cheeks, and you sat opposite Kento, knees pressed tightly together, swallowing hard.

"You don't...you're not going to make me--"

"Make you what? Beg?" Kento chuckled, a glassy rumbling sound into his wine, "Oh, I absolutely am," he assured you, swirling the glass in his hand, his eyes dark with desire now. Beneath the table, his foot tapped rapid little taps on the floor, and his trousers felt uncomfortably tight. He stared you down, hungry for you to beg for him.

You swallowed thickly. Heat pooled between your legs and your neck prickled. Biting your lip, eyes stinging with embarrassed tears, you leaned across the table, desperately tangling your fingers with Kento's.

"I need you," you whispered, hushed and agitated, "It's been too long. I was stupid. I'm sorry. So just...please, Kento, take me home and--and--"

Kento hummed again, finishing his wine, allowing you to play with his fingers, but glancing out across the restaurant, seemingly disinterested, "I'm not convinced," he intoned, "that you really mean it." Kento raised a hand to usher over your flustered, blushing waiter, and made quick work of paying the bill.

"I do," you pressed, pulling his hand towards you. You took his palm and pressed it against your cheek so Kento could feel the heat of it. Kento maintained a cool facade, feeling you swallow, tears in your eyes, and imagined you'd look the same gagging around his cock. He brushed his thumb slowly across your lip, before pressing it into your mouth, swiping it over your tongue.

"Our driver should be outside by now," he mused, and you blinked back furious tears, your begging getting you nowhere with your stubborn fiancé. Feeling self-conscious and hyper aware of every movement as you followed Kento to the door, you faltered as the restaurant door swung closed behind you. Kento had already strode ahead, and held open the door of a large private car.

You stepped in, sitting down on warm leather seats, as Kento shut the door. The windows were tinted, you noticed, as Kento spoke in low tones to the driver up front, who nodded as Kento pushed a crisp few folded up notes into his hand. Moments later, Kento stepped into the car to sit beside you, and the car set off driving.

The car ride was an agonising ten minutes. You had no idea where you were going, but eventually, the car pulled to a halt in a quiet street, and the driver pulled the handbrake, and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. An awkward silence hung between you and Kento.

His hands folded in his lap, Kento unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you, "Now, where were we?" You blushed again, face feeling permanently scorched now.

"I was...I...was telling you how sorry I am." Kento hummed, thumbs twiddling together as he looked at you, eyes dark and disinterested. You continued, now wet and thrumming inside your underwear, biting your lip before continuing.

"Please can we-- can I--" Kento frowned, annoyed now. You bit the bullet.

"Please just use me, I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight. I was wrong, and I--" Kento grasped your jaw firmly, yanking you towards him, self-control hanging on a thread.

"-- deserve this?" he finished for you, teeth gritted. Your eyes trembled at him, thrilled and terrified.

"You're damn right you do." Kento slammed his lips to yours, moving across the seats to crush you back into your corner. You moaned into his mouth, lips parting to allow his tongue access, and you whined your disapproval when Kento pulled away.

"Beg," he pressed, "How am I supposed to know what you want when you've acted like a petulant child all month?"

"Kiss me, please, Kento," you keened, grabbing him by the collar.

Something about your desperation, and his having managed to turn the tables, shot straight to Kento's cock, now rigid and pressed uncomfortably down the leg of his trousers against his thigh.

"And?" He urged, desperate to yank your underwear aside, tug your dress up over your arse and fuck you raw, but restraining himself because god knew he deserved better, "What else?"

You babbled now, "I want your fingers in my mouth. I want you to tie me up. I want--" You were cut short as Kento pressed two fingers into your mouth deep enough to make you gag. He yanked you across the seats to straddle his lap, groaning at how your throat clenched around him.

"Do you want my cock in your mouth too? Hmm?" You nodded, sucking his fingers, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I want you to tie me up," he mocked, voice pitched and sarcastic as he bucked his hips up against your heat, yanking off his tie, "Like you've had me tied up all month?" Kento twisted your wrists adjacent behind your back, your breasts now pressed out invitingly against your dress as he leaned down to bite one sharply, leaving a little red welt as you squeaked.

"Well, fuck around and find out, my love," Kento huffed at you, hurriedly shoving your dress up your hips, to grasp the sides of your underwear and rip them, letting them drop onto his lap. Pulling the scrap of fabric out from between your bodies, Kento scrunched it up and pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply, releasing a shaky breath as his head swooped, drunk on the smell of you.

Opening his eyes, intoxicated and hooded, he drank you in; rumpled and messy on his lap, breast marked by his teeth, eyes teary and lips puffy from the assault by his fingers, Kento swore he could never have dreamed of a woman like you begging for him. Crushing your underwear in his hands, he shoved it into your mouth, ignoring your coughs and splutters.

"Tastes good, hmm?" he chuckled, "You know, some nights, I nearly dipped my face between your legs while you were sleeping just to get a taste of you."

Kento hooked his cock, pulsing and aching, out of his trousers, and it fell heavy against the patch of downy hair on his belly. Positioning your pussy directly over it, Kento leaned back in the seat, smouldering at you. Not breaking eye contact, he rocked your hips back and forth, your wet pussy lips parting around the length of his cock as he glided you up and down the underside of it.

Kento's head tipped back with a ragged moan, and you quaked, feeling drunk and dizzy as the length of his cock dragged again and again over your clit. Eager now, you fell against Kento's chest and humped him harder, and faster, pleasure building fast after a month of pointless denial.

Kento's vision swam, hooked on your muffled moans as he tried not to cum embarrassingly fast. Teeth grazing against your neck, he tasted your sweat and perfume, groaning his pleasure as his cockhead repeatedly grazed your clit, the vibration of your tremors thrumming across him until he couldn't tell where you ended and he began.

Feeling your thighs start to give out, Kento rocked your hips for you, thrusting up against you until you fell apart, eyes squeezed shut in agony as you came. Kento yanked your crumpled underwear out of your mouth, nipping at your lower lip as he kissed you deeply.

"Beg," Kento urged again with a growl, holding your hips still until you whimpered, your just-achieved orgasm starting to ebb away, and you whimpered, "please let me cum, I won't do it again, I swear, I just want you inside--" you cut off with a moan as he shoved the underwear back into your mouth, and he pressed your hips hard, feeling the heat of you throb against him now.

Feeling your belly tighten with pleasure and your pussy clench around nothing, you started to move again, this time trying to manipulate Kento's cock into you without the use of your hands. Kento laughed darkly, pressing an incongruously affectionate kiss to the side of your neck.

"What if I just...said no?" Kento teased, laughing harder at your squeak of alarm. Kento would have continued the bitter self-flagellation of not fucking you senseless, but having you bound and begging on his lap was such a sweet boon.

Kento turned you around in his lap so your back was against his chest, legs draped over his, and as he spread his legs, yours spread too. Lifting you, you felt the teasing penetration of just an inch or two of his cock inside you. Your thighs shook as Kento commanded you, voice like crushed velvet against your ear.

"Kneel."

You did as you were told, supporting your weight on your knees, bound hands pawing behind you at Kento's shirt. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around nothing, desperate to feel him in your belly, and you huffed, agonised, breathing in the taste of yourself. With a groan, Kento began to stroke himself, precum now leaking just inside you, his chased pleasure just on the tip of his tongue.

As you started to gently lower yourself onto him, trying to be surreptitious, Kento grabbed the back of your bra strap, twisting it round and using the added tension to lift you back off him, and he was delighted as you wiggled and squirmed around the tip of his cock. Reaching two fingers round you to start drawing lazy circles on your clit, he continued to stroke himself. Colours popped in your vision at the relief of being touched properly for the first time in a month. You melted into his touch.

You knew Kento was struggling to hold back now, feeling his thighs clench under yours, and his cock twitch inside you, but you leaned back against him as his fingers worked between your wet folds, moaning sweetly against his neck. You saw the muscles of his neck jump with restraint, and your clever hands managed to undo a few buttons of his shirt so you could splay a hand across his lower belly, leaning your weight on it.

Kento grunted with the exertion of self-restraint, determined not to give in, but he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his v-line as you pressed your hand against his belly; he loved it when you did that, weak at the knees for him and holding urgently onto his abs for support. His cock twitched with every bound of his racing heart now, and he urged you, half commanding and half begging; "Ride me."

Kento almost shouted with relief as you squeezed your hips down, his hand releasing himself to hold you close to him, tender for you with pleasure now, as you rocked slowly on him, your pussy fitting him like a glove as it glided around him.

"So good-- so good for me," he groaned into you, one hand continuing its steady ministrations on your clit as the other snaked round you to release your breasts, cupping them, lazily flicking over your nipples. Your hips rolled against each other, thrusts in tandem and you mewled as you felt his tip kiss against the spongy spot inside you, the angle of your position exaggerating the pressure.

Kento felt his brain fog over, overwhelmed by the intimacy of holding you close again, and his hips stuttered as he bucked up into you, bouncing you on his cock as you squeaked, unable to grab onto anything for support. Being rammed into as Kento chased his own orgasm now, you leaned your head forwards against the seat, Kento admiring the curve of your arse and the arch of your back as it tensed, your pleasure peaking and toes curling as you sobbed with pleasure, voice still muffled by your underwear.

Kento fell apart, a hook behind his navel dragging down as his balls tensed, filling you with gushes of cum, holding you tightly against him and you shivered, feeling how deeply his seed hit. Both pleasure-wracked and exhausted, you slumped against each other, messy and wet.

Untying you and removing your spoiled underwear from your mouth, Kento pulled out of you, fingering where his cum dropped out of your abused pussy with a groan. You shot him a rueful look over your shoulder, and he smirked, wonky and dazed.

"You've only got yourself to blame," Kento sighed, tucking himself back into his trousers, and pulling your dress over your arse. You clamped your legs together, blushing, trying to hold Kento's cum inside. Sliding you off his lap, Kento leaned forwards to the front of the car, and flicked the indicator to flash the headlights a few times.

"Suppose I'd better tell Ino to head back," he hummed. Your jaw dropped. Kento gave you a shrewd side-eye, not done with embarrassing you yet.

Moments later, Ino slid into the driver's seat, looking back at you and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "Hey! Did you guys have fun?" You buried your face into the edge of your seat, wanting the leather to swallow you whole. Ino laughed as Kento slapped some more cash into his hand.

"You know what they say, fuck around and find out, right?"

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Nanami Kento is a deviant mastermind, and nobody can tell me otherwise.

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x y/n #jjk fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #pseudowho

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams tlou #works 𖧧࣪ #click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧

[emeritusemeritus]

Can I sleep here tonight?

Title: Can I sleep here tonight?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x pregnant!wife!reader, Molly and Arthur Weasley (being absolute gems)

Timeline: Set post-war. George lost his ear a per canon but Fred is very much alive and thriving, married and expecting his first child. The burrow is mentioned for story purposes so it didn’t burn down and we’re ignoring canon once more.

Summary: George arrives at the burrow asking to spend the night, desperate to get away from Fred and his pregnant wife.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, pregnant character, brief mentions of war and previous injury, though no graphic description is included. Mentions of sex.

It's way past tea time, darkness settling all around as the last glimmer of winter sun fades into the hills when George Weasley apparates onto the familiar dirt road leading up to his childhood home. He's armed with only his wand and a small suitcase no bigger than a briefcase, only holding the basics.

Since the war, Molly and Arthur had kept up the old enchantments placed upon the Burrow as a precaution, the fears never truly leaving them. With a wave of his wand, George clears the enchantments and steps through the invisible barrier to get to the house. As he steps towards the little stone step that acts as the threshold to the house, the door is thrust open and a warm and solid body pulls him inside. He recognises the body as his mother the very second her height and smell come into focus.

"My boy! What are you doing here?  You look tired and peaky, is something wrong? I'll make you something to eat. Arthur!" Molly shouts loudly for her husband after fretting at seeing George on their doorstep without any prior warning, especially without his twin. Since opening the shop, them moving out together, the war, George's recovery, and Fred's wedding, the twins have been so busy it's been an endeavour to get them back home even for a simple visit. "Arthur!"

"Mollywobbles what is it?" Arthur shouts back, his voice getting louder as he moves towards the kitchen. "Oh hello son," he says as he walks into the kitchen, seeing George stood there clutching a small briefcase. Arthur instinctively frowns at the unexpected visit but welcomes his son with warmth, wrapping him in a hug, patting his back a few times before pulling away.

"Do you want a cup of tea dear?" Molly asks, already making her way over to the kettle and busying herself to make something to eat for George, regardless of his radio silence.

"Now Molly, it seems he might need something stronger than tea, right son?" Arthur asks, patting George's shoulder once. "Why don't be crack open some of my Knotgrass mead? I've been saving it for an occasion, no time better than the present." He ushers George to sit at the table and Molly rushes over with a large bottle of mead and two pint glasses, bringing over an elaborate sandwich on a plate for George.

"Thanks mum," George says as Molly places down the welcomed food, noticing that she'd used one of her nicer plates for him, not something that he was ever allowed when he was younger. 

"Cheers!" Arthur says, holding up his glass towards George's after he'd poured them, happy to have a drinking buddy at home.

"So what's wrong son? Not that you're not always welcome of course," Arthur says, eyeing his son with a hint of suspicion as Molly takes a seat opposite George, placing down a cup of tea made for herself.

"Can I stay here tonight?" George asks, cringing at the slight awkwardness of his request, feeling like a child again.

"Of course you can!" Arthur says as if he's offended by the notion of George even having to ask.

"Of course you can dear, how nice to have a fuller house again! I'll put some fresh linens on the bed for you," Molly rushes up towards Fred and George's old room and with a swish of her wand, changes the bedsheets in no time at all. She returns to see the men chatting at the table and takes her place once again, reaching for her tea.

"Do you want to tell us what's wrong?" Arthur says, taking the lead. George sighs heavily, not wanting to say outright what the problem is but unable to think of a plausible excuse.

He sighs once more before admitting to the issue under his parents concerned gazes, "it's Fred and y/n."

"Have you had a falling out?" Molly quickly says, interrupting George. Arthur gives her a quick look which tells her politely to be quiet until their son has finished to which she nods and waits.

"Not exactly, it's just... I can't bare to listen to them having sex anymore. Silencing spells don't work, I've even tried muggle earplugs, well one, but that didn't work either! I only have one ear and it's still bad! Since Y/n got pregnant it's none stop, I thought getting pregnant was bad enough but bloody hell," George barely conceals a shudder at the thought of his twin brother and his wife having near constant sex in the same flat as him.

He picks up the sandwich and begins tucking in, not having time to get any food in his haste to flee the flat about the shop that he shared with Fred and y/n.

He turns his gaze back to his parents and is immediately surprised at the look they are sharing between each other. Both of them are smiling lovingly, a blush spreading on both of their faces, both appear to be speaking with their eyes.

"What?" George says with a mouthful of food, frowning, not understanding their reaction.

"Why do you think we had so many children?" Arthur suddenly laughs, earning a little giggle from Molly, a sound that George had never heard fall from his mother's mouth.

"I couldn't resist your mother when she was pregnant, just something about it," Arthur trails off as if he's daydreaming, a nostalgic smile plastered on his face. "The second she popped one of you out I wanted to try again."

George wants the ground to swallow him up in his entirety as he sits disgusted and uncomfortable. Was nowhere safe anymore? He finds his appetite has significantly decreased and is thankful that he'd finished the sandwich quickly; only praying he could keep it down if his parents kept talking about that.

"It's entirely biological son, it's what the muggles call 'hormones', or so I'm told. There's just something about seeing your wife carrying your child..." Arthur shakes his head slightly as he daydreams, a goofy smile still hanging off his lips as Molly swats his arm playfully.

"I'm going to bed," George mumbles, wanting desperately to get away.

"We'll keep it down tonight!" Arthur jokes earning a cackle from Molly as they both laugh at Arthur's attempt at humour. George grumbles the entire way up to his old bedroom, holding back a shudder at the very thought of not only his brother and y/n but now also his parents.

I need to move out, he thought.

#fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #emeritusemeritus

[spacebaby1]

My Mistake (Sukuna x Reader)

You don't even remember how did you two started to argue but Sukuna had enough so he did what he would never do; he yelled at you, "SHUT UP! STOP SCREAMING AT ME GIRL." You weren't even screaming, immediately you stopped talking and completely shut yourself away from him.

You walked away with the blank look, it was way to early for either of you to argue, Sukuna sighed in defeat when he realised he could've just calmed you down and not argue but being the hot-headed that he was he had to argue. You didn't eat breakfast that morning just stayed in your room while Sukuna made the breakfast and waited for you to come down but you didn't.

Few hours later he entered the room only for you to grab your phone and walk out of the room without looking at him, he heard the TV downstairs and made his way downstairs and check on the breakfast he made for you still there on the table untouched. You were laying on the couch watching random show.

Sukuna sat by the edge of the couch trying to place your legs in his lap but you sat straight before he would reach for your feet. You both sat like that for hour before you walked away to the kitchen again not saying a single word. Sukuna smirked when he saw you reach for the jam jar that he tightened so you'd ask for his help, he got up to help you open the lid but the jar accidentally fell on the ground causing the shattered glass to splash everywhere and you yelped.

"Don't mov-"

"I'll clean it, I-I-I whe- oh the broo-Ouch" you couldn't finish the sentence as you accidentally stepped on the broke glass. Sukuna rushed towards you but you avoided him trying hard to not cry as you pushed your hair behind your ear trying to clean the mess and Sukuna wasn't having it. He could clearly see the floor coverd in your blood so was your feet. Without another word he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, "Don't. move." He pointed the finger at you before getting a broom and cleaning the glasses away throwing them in the trash

Carefully he picked you up bridle style to the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bathtub as he grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet, Carefully he pulled the piece of glass out of your feet earning a gasp from you as you held on his shoulder for support, "it's okay, it's out now, let me wash the wound, Okay?" He softly spoke to you and you just nodded looking down. You winched few times before pulling your hand over your mouth to hold back your cries, "Don't do that, you'll pop a vessel, it's okay to scream in pain, you know?"

You didn't reply, "are you still ang-" Sukuna heard your sobs and stopped talking trying to focus on wrapping the wound before he turned to look at you as you had your head low and were sobbing, "Hey, is it soo painful? Want me to take you to hospital?" He softly held your face rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks encouraging you to look at him. You shook your head, "I'm sorry for acting mean."

He pulled you to his chest, "you weren't mean, I was mean, I'm the one who should apologise, I'm an idiot idiot, please forgive me?" He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, "Hum, Princess? I'm so sorry, I will never yell at you ever again." You hugged him back, "I'm sorry for ignoring you, 'Kuna." He kissed your head, "I love you, you've got nothing to be sorry about, I'll be more careful with my words next time." You chuckled and nodded, "okay,"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #angst #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryoumen x reader

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ tell me a secret ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: roommate!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader x roommate!yeji

୨୧ Genre: fluff/smut

୨୧ Summary: Stuck in the house with nothing to do on a Friday night, you and your roommates decide to play a game called Tell Me A Secret. Similar to Truth or Dare, the rules are simple. Do the dare or spill your secrets. It's just an innocent, fun way to pass the time. Well, maybe not so innocent.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.3kish

୨୧ Warnings: ✨ first and foremost, if you don't wanna be with a girl I humbly thank you for stopping by but the exit is to your left ✨ fingering, oral sex (f receiving & you're the one giving), a lil nipple play, a lil roughness, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mention of masturbation (m & f), hyunjin has listened to you masturbate btw, yeji's a lil jealous, threesome (obviously, babes), the hwangs share you but don't hook up w/ each other, spanking, pet names (pretty girl, baby), low key soft dom vibes, heavy make out sesh.

୨୧ A/N: I received this as a request from a darling anon so here we are. I think it's super sweet that I got this request because I never get them for girl groups so yas kween. Anyway, I hope you love it my sweet anon and everyone else too!

“Aaaah! No way! Ew! I can’t watch this!” Yeji shrieks, covering her eyes with the blanket.

Standing at the side of your bed, Hyunjin swishes a raw egg around in a glass. The three of you had every intention of going to a party tonight but an unexpected storm had other plans. So here you all are, lounging around in your pajamas daring each other to drink raw eggs. 

“You won’t do it!” you taunt, fiddling with the ears of the teddy bear in your lap, “Just tell us a secret.” Yeji stretches out across the bed, resting her head on your thigh. “Yeah, tell us. Did you actually hook up with that girl who works at the cafe?” she asks, scrunching her nose up, “The girl who smells like ketchup.” 

You seize the opportunity to double down on poor Hyunjin. It’s one of the many unspoken rules of the apartment. “She does smell like ketchup. They don’t even have ketchup there.” “Shut up!” Hyunjin huffs, placing a hand on his hip. He stares down at the raw egg, his stomach turning the longer he drags out the inevitable.

Tilting his head back, he brings the cup to his lips and—

“Shit, I can’t do it.” 

“I knew it” Yeji gloats, slyly moving her head further onto your lap. She turns to give you the cutest pouty face. The one that you just know means she wants you to play in her hair. You give in without thinking, that’s what you always do with Yeji. How could you ever say no to a girl like her?

Twirling her silken strands around your fingertips, you try to remind yourself that this is your best friend. Your roommate. Yes she’s been cozying up to you a lot more lately but it’s nothing. Just like the thumping in your chest whenever she takes your hand or kisses your cheek. It’s nothing. 

“Okay, so, uh, I didn’t hook up with the ketchup girl but…” Hyunjin sets the glass down on the dresser and pauses for dramatic effect, “Seungmin did. That’s a secret right?” You and Yeji gasp in unison, the shock of Hyunjin’s betrayal rocking you to your core.

“You did not just—you’re a terrible!” you laugh, shaking your head. “You should be ashamed” Yeji agrees, reveling in the regret on Hyunjin’s face. Hyunjin flips you the middle finger, “Fine then. Fuck you guys, I’m going to bed.” He isn’t really mad, both of you know it, and he isn’t really going anywhere but you entrain his tantrum anyway.

“Jinnie, come on. We were just joking. Stay” you beg, catching him by the wrist as he goes to grab his phone. Yeji’s pouty face may have the power to bring anyone to their knees but so does yours and Hyunjin’s nowhere near immune to it. He doesn’t want to be. 

He forces you to suffer for a few more seconds, a scowl fixed on his face, before giving in. “Fine but it’s your turn now” he says, hopping onto the bed, “Tell us a secret or do the dare.” “Well you have to tell me what the dare is first.” Yeji and Hyunjin turn to each other, striking up a silent conversation only they can understand.

As close as the three of you are, the connection they have is near telepathic and has meant trouble for you since the day you moved in. Yeji sits up, her strawberry gloss tinted lips mere inches from your face, “Kiss us.” 

Suddenly your internal temperature skyrockets, making the room unbearably hot. “K-kiss you?” you stutter, “On the cheek you mean?” Hyunjin cracks a devious smile, “Not quite.” You look to Yeji and back to Hyunjin. Back to Yeji. Back to Hyunjin. This is obviously a joke. “Right, ha ha ha. So funny. You got your joke in, Jinnie. I’m sorry I teased you, okay?”

“He’s not joking” Yeji persists, petting your cheek to bring your focus back to her, “We’ve all thought about it. Don’t lie and say you haven’t.” You could say you haven’t but she’s right, it’d be a lie. One of the biggest lies you’d ever tell in your life. The fantasies you’ve had of being with them, separately and together, are filthy enough to make a porn star blush.

How they look at you, it’s like they know how often you’ve wondered what it’d be like to feel their lips…hands…bodies…on yours. It dawns on you that maybe they can read your mind too. Shit.

“So,” Hyunjin hums, moving in close enough to pin you between the two of them, “What’s it gonna be then?” 

So, what’s it gonna be then?

The kiss.

The tiniest nervous peck on the lips. One for each of them. But you kissed Hyunjin for a split second longer than you did Yeji, she swears it. So one more for her, this one much deeper than the last, her arm coming around your waist to caress the softness of your hips. But Yeji’s gotten too greedy, the excitement of finally having you right where she wants you making it hard to let you go.

So one more for Hyunjin who doesn’t let you catch your breath for more than a moment before he captures you in another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your thin tank top to delight in the fullness of your figure. Yeji plants kisses down your shoulder, pulling your shorts aside just enough to get a peek at the lace panties beneath.

She remembers when you bought those. You were out shopping together and you asked which pair you should get to wear for some guy you were dating at the time. What a waste, she’d thought, that an asshole like that got to have you. You feel her smile as her hands dip into your shorts. It’s her turn to have you now. 

“You want more, baby?” Hyunjin asks, breathlessly, running his thumb across the hardened bud that pokes through the material of your bra. “Mmm, yes. More” you whine, your entire body reacting to his touch. He grins at how sensitive you are, closing two fingers around the bud to pinch it until he’s swallowing your needy moans.

He hears them when you think you’re home alone, the low hum of your vibrator audible through your bedroom door. Standing in that hallway, his cock throbbing in his hand, precum pooling in his palm, all he wanted was to taste those moans as they left your lips. Now that he has, he’s positive he’ll get addicted. They’re far more delicious than he ever imagined.

“Open up for me” Yeji whispers, tickling your inner thigh, “Let me feel how wet you are for us.” You do exactly as you’re told, spreading your legs to grant her fingers access to the juices soaking their way through your panties. “Aww, baby, you’re such a mess” she coos, tucking your panties to the side to stroke your slit, “Jinnie, come here. You’ve gotta feel this.”

With one hand still toying with your nipple, he brings the other between your legs. Yeji drags hers upward, coating your clit in your own arousal as Hyunjin sinks a finger into your warmth. Your back arches, lust coursing through your veins, and any remnants of your former shyness falls away. Your mouth is at Yeji’s again, your tongues sloppily entangled in one another's.

It’s almost rhythmic, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as your hand ventures under her shirt to caress her breasts. Yeji hates bras, she thinks they’re an old world torture device, and her refusal to wear them has always made you happy. Especially now. They’re so plush and tender, fitting perfectly into your palms as if they were meant to be there.

You reach back to trace the outline of the bulge forming in Hyunjin’s sweatpants. He groans when you apply pressure, your fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can. You descend into a sea of moans, ravenously reaching for any part of each other you can. Clothing’s shed between kisses, between glossy eyed cries of ecstasy, until the three of you are completely naked, bodies intertwined.

Yeji lays back on the bed, her head nestled comfortably on your pillow, and watches Hyunjin play with you. He has you positioned on your knees facing her as he kneels behind you, one arm tucked beneath your tits and the other around your waist. He holds you close to his chest, fingering you at a merciless pace. “Jinnie, oh, fuck. So good” you moan, rocking your hips to feel him deeper.

Hyunjin leans into your ear, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on your neck. “Is it good, baby? Hmm? I make you feel good?” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard, his need for you bringing out an aggression that has you clenching even tighter than you already were. Yeji licks her lips, catching a glimpse of the way your juices glisten on Hyunjin’s fingers.

“Can I taste?” she asks, parting her legs to run her expensively manicured fingers through her folds. What’s between her thighs is nothing short of a work of art. She has the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen and it’s dripping all over your sheets. You’ll never wash them again. Hyunjin eases his fingers out of your core, raising them to your lips. You take them into your mouth, sucking them clean before leaning down to kiss Yeji.

“Mmm, such a tasty little cunt” she hums, her knuckles bumping your clit as she rubs her own. Snatching her by the wrist, you bring her fingers to your lips and run your tongue over them. She tastes amazing. Good enough to eat. “I’m not the only one who’s tasty” you smile, this new side of you making her blush.

Hyunjin grabs you by the hips, pulling you towards him so that your ass rests in his lap and your face hovers just above Yeji’s core. He slaps your ass one cheek at a time, far too in love with the way it jiggles. “Hyunjin!” you giggle, jumping a bit at the sting of his slaps, “Cut it out. I’m trying to eat here.” He aligns himself with your entrance, stretching you with his thick tip before stopping to watch you squirm.

Yeji snakes her fingers through your hair, her clit twitching in anticipation. You waste no time plunging your tongue into her, your face buried between her legs. She tastes even better this way, walls fluttering around your tongue. Hyunjin thrusts into you and your knees almost give out. “No, no, no. None of that” he scolds, slapping your ass harder this time, “Stay up for me so I can fuck you the way you deserve.”

Another thrust and you’re squealing into Yeji’s pussy. The vibrations are heavenly, heightening the feeling of your tongue flicking at her g spot. Your bodies sync together effortlessly. Every snap of Hyunjin’s hips. Every light suck of Yeji’s clit. Every tug of your hair and moan she sends flowing through the air. Everything builds into the next, taking the three of you beyond your limits.

“Look at me” Yeji mewls, cupping your cheeks to lift your face up. She wishes she could take a picture of you like this, kitten licking her slit with those bright beautiful eyes of yours fixed on her. “I-I…cum…gonna—” You purse your lips around her clit, circling it with the tip of your tongue while you suck it harder the closer she gets.

Hyunjin kisses up your back, pressing so deep into you that you begin to tremble. Your gaze remains locked on Yeji and hers on you. You see her body tense, a fleeting look of shock washing over her face before her body’s spasming. She rides your face, eyes rolling back as she floods your tongue with her cum.

No matter which direction she twists in you try to follow her but it’s hell when every ridge of Hyunjin’s cock is flush against your walls. He throws his head back, finding it difficult to wrap his mind around how good you feel. It’s almost too much. The fullness in your lower stomach grows the deeper he strokes and you just know you can’t hold out any longer. Yeji knows too, holding your hands as she floats down from her high. 

“Cum for us pretty girl.”

“Fuck, yes, let me feel you.”

The sound of their voices melded together is sexier than it has any right being. In an instant you lose control of your limbs, your eyes falling shut as you’re overwhelmbed with pleasure. Hyunjin pulls back a little, sliding you up and down to see how completely coated in you he is. Watching himself disappear into you, your cream decorating his cock, pushes him over the edge.

Just as the fullness inside of you begins to calm down, he’s pumping more than enough cum into you to bring it back twice as strong as before. But you couldn’t handle another orgasm if you wanted to. You’re ready to collapse. Hyunjin rubs your back, comforting your weakened form before his own body gives out on him. You roll over onto your backs, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief of what just happened.

What does this mean for your friendship? Will this change things between you? Or will you just wake up tomorrow and pretend it never happened? As your collective gasps for air quiet, a sense of peace falls across the room. Yeji scoots in closer to you, throwing a leg across your waist and Hyunjin snuggles up to your belly.

“You know…” Hyunjin mumbles, his eyes barely open, “You never actually chose.” Filing through the haze in your brain, you realize that he’s right.

“Uh, hmm, I’ll tell you a secret then I guess.”

“Oh, sweetie” Yeji sighs, playfully pinching your cheek, “I think we already know.”

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #yeji x reader #yeji x you #hyunjin smut #yeji smut #stray kids x reader #itzy x reader #chubby reader

[wraithlafitte]

you need to rest

pairing: sam winchester x reader

CONTENT: fluff, established relationship, reader is shorter than sam (but who isn't)

word count: 724

You tiptoed down the stairs from the second floor of Bobby's house, careful not to step on the places you knew creaked. You had awoken feeling the full effects of your dehydration, and needed a glass of water asap or you were certain your mouth would shrivel up and die.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed a faint glow coming from inside the library. The men often stayed up late researching, so you didn't even look to see who it was, beelining to the kitchen to get your water.

The doors separating the library from the kitchen were closed, so it wasn't until you were on your way back to bed when you glanced inside the library.

It wasn't Bobby up late, like you assumed. It was Sam, laying over a pile of books, his head resting on his forearm like a pillow. His laptop was open in front of him, casting his face in a ghostly light that emphasized the tired lines etched into his skin.

You walked to the desk softly and placed your water glass down, leaning over Sam to close his browser windows and turn off his laptop.

You gently shook Sam's shoulder. He jerked upright and grabbed your arm, always ready for a fight. "It's just me, Sam," you whispered. He instantly relaxed and dropped your arm.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I fell asleep."

"It's four in the morning," you told him sympathetically. "You've been working yourself to the bone over this thing. You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Sam croaked. He looked haggard, dark bags under his eyes and lines carved into his brow from squinting.

A few moments from the past week clicked into place in your mind. Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded and eyes closed. Sam dozing off in the car on the way to town. Sam with his forehead pressed to a bookshelf, jumping when the book fell from his hand, and insisting that he hadn't been falling asleep. Going to bed before Sam and waking up with him not there.

"Jesus. How much sleep have you been getting?" you asked concernedly. "You look like shit."

"I don't know."

"Don't know or won't say because you know it's not enough?"

Sam heaved a sigh that turned into a yawn. "Maybe like, three hours a night? Two? I've gone longer with less."

"A year without a soul doesn't count," you said, swatting his arm. "Come on, we're going to bed."

"But-" he protested.

"Sam."

He closed his eyes defeatedly. "Okay. You win."

Sam rose from the chair slowly and grabbed you into his arms sleepily, resting his chin on your head.

You led him by his limp arm up the stairs to the room you two were staying in, although lately it had just been you. Sam didn't bother to put pajamas on, simply kicking off his shoes and falling face-first into the mattress. You giggled, setting your water down on the side table, and followed suit.

Sam peeked one eye open to look at you. You brushed his hair behind his ear. "You gotta take better care of yourself."

He smiled half-heartedly. "That's what I have you for," he teased. As you scoffed, he turned onto his side and pulled you against his chest. You snuggled against his warm body, face stuffed into his flannel, breathing in the scent of him.

You yawned, causing him to yawn as well, sending you both into a fit of giggles. You turned your face solemn again. "Promise me you'll come to bed when I do this week. At least."

Sam looked lovingly into your upturned face and kissed you on the forehead. "Promise," he whispered. His hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you close into his neck again.

You kissed the base of his throat. "I love you. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground."

He exhaled lightly. "I won't. I know you won't let me. And I know it's not your job to take care of me, but... I appreciate it."

Your arm curled around his side, rubbing his back. "I know," you said simply.

As the first pale fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, you and Sam had dozed off in each other's arms, breathing in tandem.

Finally resting.

divider by @saradika-graphics

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural x reader #userwraith

[monsterbachelors]

The Three Don'ts of Sabertooth Brewing

[contains semi-public sex + fem!reader]

SUMMARY: You visit Yanu at work on a slow night. One thing leads to another and just when things get exciting, something both unpleasant and unexpected forces you to take a rain check on back-alley romps.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

A smile brightens your face when you see the Sabertooth Brewing sign from across the street. The venue doesn’t look like an appropriate place for a young lady without nefarious motives but at the same time, the entirety of the Copper Valley district doesn’t appear so. Nonetheless, you couldn’t think of a safer place to be. Whatever turf wars the former copper miners lead, they all agreed to omit Yanu and his business. It reached the point where some locals called the bar “the embassy” as it’s the only neutral ground in the neighbourhood.

The rough-looking miners curtly nod at you as you walk past them. A cloud of smoke and soot surrounds the two men. They always stand near the entrance of the locale but never go inside. Smoking one cigarette after another, their job must be to ensure that Yanu stays largely unbothered by the conflicts of Copper Valley. So far, they’ve been excellent at doing their duties.

You giggle quietly as you read the sign hanging on the front door:

Don’t: - fight - spill drinks - ask Q’rill to make a mojito

A bell chimes when you push the door open. Low, yellow lights make the interior look cosy. Conversations held by the patrons sitting in booths and around small tables are drowned out by a trio playing a familiar swing tune. The smell of cigarette smoke fills your lungs and sticks to your clothes. Two waiters weave between tables and clients, faux joy plastered to their faces. One of them notices you - she gives you a quick wave and nods towards the long bar counter.

Although he is surrounded by bottles filled with colourful drinks, it’s impossible to overlook Yanu. Maybe it’s a general rule or perhaps it’s just your fatal affliction. He’s wearing a shirt, a vest and a pair of tailored pants - exactly what one would expect a bartender to wear. Seemingly lost in thought, he’s just wiping some glasses but still, there is something unspeakably captivating about him. An aura that paints him as extraordinary and not just the way he is.

Yanu must notice you approaching out of the corner of his eye. When his gaze meets yours, his expression immediately changes. The deep, pink scar across his blind right eye gives the rakshasa a certain edge but even that isn’t enough to hide the pure adoration painted all over his face. His blue iris stares at you lovingly until a shadow of mischief dances across Yanu’s features.

“My, my, I don’t recall having an appointment with a princess,” he speaks with pretend surprise.

“Princesses don’t make appointments,” you answer casually. Sitting on the high bar stool, you’re still significantly shorter than the rakshasa behind the counter. “They just show up when they want to.”

He chuckles in a low voice. “Gods bless them for that.”

Yanu leans on his forearms on the counter and hangs his head to let you kiss his cheek. Round, furry ears adorned with silver jewellery flutter as they brush against your hair. It tickles when his whiskers touch your face. 

Feeling his breath against your skin, you don’t have to speak loudly. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

“You,” he points an accusatory finger at you, “interrupt my every coherent thought but I’ve learnt to enjoy that.”

Suddenly, your face gets hot. “I’m being serious, Yanu,” you say through flustered giggles. Even after all this time, it’s beyond easy for him to make you giddy.

“Likewise.” He winks at you before standing up straight. “So how can I spoil a princess’s palate?”

“Hm… I feel like elderberry.”

“Drunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine*,” he sings while looking around for ingredients. The idea for a cocktail comes to him in an instant as befits a true connoisseur.

Yanu appears to be in a trance as he pours and mixes lemonade, vodka, St-Germain and some thyme. Every action is quick and decisive but never careless. Similarly, you are in a sort of trance, too - watching his white shirt and elegant black vest strain around the muscles of his arms. One day the seams of the garments might just let go but say, would it really be so bad?

The rakshasa pours elderflower syrup into the shaker. With a swift flick of his wrist, the shaker with your cocktail-to-be flips in the air. The metal cup makes a full circle only to be caught again by his hand, its content poured into a square drinking glass.

He looks at you in anticipation. Satisfaction is written all over his face. “Pretty nice, right?”

But you’re in a bantering mood tonight. Not letting him see how in awe you truly are, you only raise your eyebrows. “You have huge arms. It would be more impressive if you dropped that.”

Yanu sighs dramatically. He shakes his head and crosses his arms across his chest. If it wasn’t for the glimmer of amusement in his good eye, you’d think he’s genuinely upset. “And here I thought that a lowlife like me could impress a princess.”

“Well…” you ponder for a moment, “there are a few things you could do with your hands that would be impressive.”

Something changes about his demeanour. The amusement stayed but now it is joined by some darkness that leaves an aftertaste of chocolates with brandy - warming and rejuvenatingly bittersweet.

“Really?” he asks in a low voice. His blue eye is watching you intensely, almost looking through you. “Pray tell, what do you have in mind?”

Perhaps there’s some perversion to it but you enjoy leaving his question unanswered for a while. Slowly, you sip on the drink, silently enjoying the perfectly balanced flavours. Not too sweet, not too sour. A true testimony of how well Yanu knows you. That passionate gaze of his never once leaves you, catching even the smallest of movements. A predator or a lover? - how similar these two can be.

“A princess shouldn’t be saying such things out loud,” you finally say.

Yanu leans on his arms against the bar counter. With each exhale, his warm breath gently brushes against your face. There’s some intensity hidden under his casual demeanour as though if you were to play your cards right, he might just cause scandalous immodesty in full view of the clients.

“Will she share them away from prying ears?” More than a question, it’s a suggestion. One that you have neither the will nor the want to reject.

Feigning innocence, you shrug your shoulders. “Perhaps.”

The rakshasa only chuckles. He stands up straight and calls out to someone:

“Hey, Q’rill! Watch the bar for me for a bit, eh?”

The drow, equally well-dressed as Yanu, doesn’t even look your way. Still cutting a lemon into pieces, he answers in a heavy accent, “Got you, boss.”

Not waiting for a sign or a word of encouragement, you get off the stool and walk towards the closer end of the counter. Ever the gentleman, Yanu lifts the wooden part, letting you go behind the bar. But that’s not where the two of you are headed - you follow him through the back of the brewery, only to leave through the staff door.

The alley is dark and narrow. Something rattles in the skip filled with trash, probably a rat or two. In the distance, far away from where you’re standing, cars drive by every now and again. Muffled swing music played by the trio inside the bar sounds like an ambience of a faraway world.

Yanu pushes you against the wall. He’s towering over you - if he so wished, he could effortlessly throw you over his shoulder and carry off.  The bricks are cold against your back but soon you find them refreshing when compared to the warmth beaming from the rakshasa. His rough tongue slowly licks the side of your neck. It’s strange, tickling and absolutely delightful. 

One of his hands lifts your leg, resting your knee against his hips. Lustful greediness has him grabbing and groping whatever part of your thigh and ass.

Just when a pleased sigh leaves your lips, Yanu stops licking your neck and nuzzles it instead.

“So how can I impress my princess?” he purrs into your ear. 

He’s not waiting for an answer - not really. Not when you feel his clothed erection grinding against your groin. You can almost feel your arousal dripping down your legs.

Yanu’s other hand slides into your underwear. His fingers, thick and furry, sensually rub your clit in circles. Breath hitches in your throat. “Would this impress her?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you manage to say between whimpers.

The rakshasa only hums in response. It’s hard to say whether your answer satisfies him.

A loud moan escapes your lips as Yanu easily slips his fingers inside your pussy. The stretch is already more than enough for you. Slow strokes have him reaching deliciously deep inside you.

“You look so pretty like this, princess.”

Looking for support, your hands grab his shoulders. It feels as though your abdomen is suddenly set on fire, your coherent thoughts swimming away and turning into static, if not disappearing completely. There is only Yanu, his quiet groans against your neck and his thick fingers hitting that perfect spot.

“Faster, please,” you squeal.

With utmost pleasure, he obliges immediately. It feels so good you could scream but not a sound leaves your agape mouth. If you weren’t so lost in your pleasure, maybe you’d notice your legs quivering. Your grip on his shoulders only tightens, earning a chuckle from him.

“My princess is going to come?” Yanu coos.

No answer comes from you, only another pathetic moan. Desperate to orgasm, you begin rubbing your clit. It’s “allowed” in these extraordinary circumstances. No doubt Yanu’s “I live to please you” attitude will come back behind closed doors and between the white sheets of your bed.

Your vagina is clenching around his relentlessly thrusting fingers, your whole body begins shaking. A cry gets stuck in your throat. The wave of pleasure, the climax he so eagerly gives you, washes over you more like a tsunami than a wave. It drowns out your thoughts, your breathing, your strength. Fortunately, Yanu has a tight grip around your leg, keeping you standing straight. He’s still sliding in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

Finally, he slips his fingers out of you. You’re about to say something, thank him or praise him, when a loud crash resounds from inside the bar. Someone’s yelling but the voice is too muffled for either of you to understand what’s the matter.

Yanu and you exchange a look of both confusion and worry. Then, as though lovers know something akin to telepathy, the two of you chuckle.

“Mojito,” you say simultaneously.

When your laughter, contrary to the row next door, dies down, you let out a sigh. “Guess we’ll have to postpone our little escapade.” 

Yanu brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s a cheeky man, staring right into your eyes while doing something so indecent. “I’m fine with that,” comes the answer.

But you can play that game, too.

Low groan rumbles inside his chest when your hand teasingly rubs his prominent bulge. He clenches his fists, doing his utmost best to keep himself collected. You could so easily make him fail at that…

“Are you, though?” you ask with faux innocence.

Although you’ve just had a great orgasm, you can feel your pussy throbbing again. As your mind wanders for a second or two, pondering possibilities, your mouth starts watering.

Yanu firmly grabs the wrist of your hand caressing his crotch. Keeping you in place, he grinds against your palm. Through clenched teeth, he growls into your ear.

“I’m a big boy,” the rakshasa purrs. “I can wait a few hours.”

“I know you’re big, boy,” you retort in an equally sultry voice. “I’ll see you home.”

In a loving gesture, he nuzzles against your neck one last time. “Don’t stray.”

After that, he watches you walk away. Only when you disappear behind the corner does he go back inside the bar. As much as he likes Q’rill, he’d much rather go back home with you.

_____

*Lyrics from "Elderberry wine" by Elton John. A bit of an anachronism, yes, but a damn good song.

If you see any books, plays, movies, paintings or songs mentioned, it's most probably something very close to my heart :)

I'm also a complete greenhorn in writing smut, so bear with me as I learn on the go.

#monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster smut #teratophillia #monster fucker #monster bachelors of dawncrest #monster x human #monster x female #monster x reader #monster x you #rakshasa x reader #rakshasa smut #rakshasa x you #rakshasa x human #monsterkink #monster kink #monster fucking #terato

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

BUNNY BUNS

[HYBRID AU]

INTRO

Bunny on the run

Side Characters: Yoongi cat Hybrid, Hoseok/Human, Taehyung/Human.

Warnings: mentions of violence, wounds, blood, smut, nudity.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrid au, fluff, R+18.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Days alone on the streets after running away, Jungkook is so hungry he would do anything for something to eat, the sweet smell of bread fills his nostrils and as he walks on the side walk of the night streets he fallows it as if lost on a dream, almost not believing such delicious smell could even exist. He fallows the smell with his high sense of scent only to stop in front of a small coffee shop, the lights where still on a warm atmosphere he could see it from the outside, the glass door had some green leaves falling from the top where the name of the coffee shop shined in cursive letters, bunny buns.

He watches as the sign on the door changes. Someone opens the door the sound of a ring dings and a women a bit shorter than him comes out holding two black trash bags, she notice him standing there and only smiles at him walking around him to put out the trash. His heart beats faster, not knowing what to do with such reaction from a female, she who smelled like sweets and bread making him mesmerized by her long purple hair that stopped at her but. Jungkook never saw someone like her, it felt like he was in a dream and just saw an angel.

"Won't you come in bunny?" His checks burn from embarrassment, not used to having attention on him, "I don't have money miss, sorry" he murmured, she only smiles kindly looking him up and down she noticed he was a stray hybrid, from the dirty clothes to the dirt and wounds on his hands and face. His big doe almond eyes shined so bright under the lights of the coffee shop, looking almost like the night sky full of stars. He looked absolutely adorable, even though the contrast of his old clothes and dirt on him. She smiles and invites him in "it's on me then, come?" She offers him her hand and he slowly accepts it holding the tips of her finger afraid to leave dirt on her hand, fallowing her inside the small and warm coffee shop, he was so hungry he fallows without any second thought not caring to think about not having money anymore as his eyes traveled over all the pastries and sweet smell of cinnamon rolls, everything there smells so good and looked like bunnies, he wants to laugh at the coincidence.

Of course everything would look like a bunny, the place is called bunny buns.

Telling him to sit on a barstool she than walks around it, standing in front of him on the other side of the counter she begins to prepare him some bunny buns. The signature of the shop. Bunny bread with sugar over it. Making sure to give him a bunch with a cup of warm milk, it was freezing outside and she really wondered how he managed to walk outside with only a white shirt and pants.

She wondered, if he maybe had lost himself from his owner. Or maybe simply run away from it.

She owns the coffe shop and gives him everything he asks for, he apologizes many times but she only tells him it's okay. “Please, let me pay you somehow?” He says, long white ears behind his head moving slightly. She only smiles at him “you being this cute is enough for me”.

Her smile warms his heart in a way he never thought it was possible, no one has ever showed him kindness, not even a smile. Never. Even before he run away.

He continued to eat as she watched him, looking outside as rain stared pouring she asked him “do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”, he didn’t meet her eyes. Only staring at the now empty plate in front of him. Ashamed to even tell her the truth.

He was finally free.

Yet he had nowhere to go. No place to call home.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry” she says, soon warm hands are holding his face up to meet her gaze in the most gentle way. Her thumbs clean the tears he never thought would fall from his eyes, worry fills her expression over her soft features.

“I don’t have… home” he says, big doe eyes looking into her. She couldn’t just let the poor bunny hybrid alone at this cold time of the year. He looked so soft and scared. Like anything could break him apart.

“Well… my house is upstairs, do you want to stay here for the night?” She asks, surprise filling his brown eyes as quick as the red on his checks. He couldn’t even imagine what was happening, why would she help him? Why would she, when no one else did?

“ I can’t… you’re so nice but-“ he began but couldn’t end his sentence, her hands falling from his face over his hands.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind… it’s just, it will be a cold night… I’m scare you’ll be cold” she tells him, he looks at her, a stranger offering him a home to stay the night after filling his belly.

Even if she hurts him later, he just felt so grateful for her. So much he cried.

“Don’t cry bunny… you can stay, okay?” She gently cleaned his tears, walking around the counter to stand beside him. Her hands running over his back in a soft manner, slowly he began to fall into her touch. Head resting over her chest as she continued to caressed his back.

“I’ll take care of you okay?” Her other hand comes up to gently scratch his head, his long hair were soft. Her mind were filled with questions. How could someone let this poor bunny walk around in this could weather? She couldn’t believe it.

More than anything, how was she going to take care of this big bunny?

Next?

Tag list?

Notes: here is the intro, I hope you guys like it! It will be a very soft story with some fluff annnnnddd smut. Heheh luv you all 💖

#bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x you #bts yoongi #bts v #bts jhope #bts taehyung #bts au #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook hybrid au #Jungkook bunny #jung hoseok fanfic #jungkook and reader #jungkook fanfic

[onlymingyus]

Temporary

pairing; kim mingyu x reader

genre; angst

warnings; depression, comfort

w/c; 520 on the nose

requested; no

a/n; this is completely written from a personal place. i do honestly use writing as a place to vent and get out my own feelings and these past few weeks have been mentally very difficult. i hope you don't mind a little self-indulgence as i work through the things in my head.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Fingers strum through your hair without a word being said. Nothing needs to be said because your tears and gentle sobs are enough to fill the space. It felt like your own mind and time were betraying you. Nothing had gone right in such a long time that it was beginning to feel like it may never again.

Mingyu moves in closer to you. His knees press against the back of yours as his left arm slides around your waist to pull you in closer. The man’s heart breaks for you knowing that he can’t change how you feel right now despite everything he wished he could do.

He had asked you to explain to him what was going on, and how it felt, but it was hard to put into words. How could you so easily explain feeling empty and alone even while you were in someone’s arms? How could you tell someone that you were falling apart when they were trying desperately to piece you back together constantly?

You knew this was in your mind. You knew that there would be blue skies and a clear mind at some point, but right now it seemed impossible. Your mind was a battlefield and you were stuck in the middle of a war you didn’t have any weapons to fight.

Nuding his nose against your neck, Mingyu closes his eyes and swallows hard as he holds you to him. The way he holds you is as if you were both made of glass and also like you might slip away if he held you too loosely. He finds a perfect balance and maintains his own emotions because he knows that’s what you need right now.

So many times you had been the rock that he would swim to in his own storm. Now he was going to stay here for as long as it took. Lips brush against your skin and you sob harder causing Mingyu to lace his fingers with yours almost apologetically for causing you to cry. He knew it wasn’t his fault but he still wanted to show you he understood.

“It’s temporary.”

You had said those words to him so many times before when Mingyu would think everything was impossible. When he would get to a point when it was too much, it was all too hard.

“It’s all temporary, baby.”

Mingyu’s lips barely graze your ear as he speaks, his fingers once again moving to pull your hair from your face so he can then wipe some of your tears from your cheeks. He knew more would take their place, but he wasn’t going anywhere. The pain was temporary but he wasn’t. You weren’t temporary.

You can only nod before your shoulders shake almost as if you are in pain at hearing Mingyu’s words. He knew logically you weren’t in pain, still, he can’t help the way his brain tells him to check you, to protect you. Warm fingers move over your cheeks as he whispers soft words of adoration and encouragement all while telling you it’s okay to take your time with the pain.

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed. 

#mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #svthub #caratwritersclub #svt angst #svt fluff #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter .

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. This chapter has both Azriel’s and Y/N povs. ✨

I have a feeling that this might just be the end.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Zofie’s pov:

She was sitting by the fire. A dog with chestnut fur had been looking at her ever since she spent a solid while scratching his ear. Legs dangling as she looked over the unfamiliar living room. Or what she assumed was one. “Here, drink this," her uncle said stepping into the doorway, a glass in hand. He had taken her to his, or more likely, Eris's, mansion. Why? She didn’t know. She wanted to go home. To mom and dad at least, but Lucien had made her stay.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, kneeling in front of her as if she were some child. But then again... How was she feeling? Zofie tried not to focus on the emotions raging within her. One battling the other. Making her feel dizzy and nauseous. Because whatever was brewing deep within her chest felt more like a roller coaster than anything else.

“Flustered and uneasy”, it came out more as a question than a statement, but since she didn’t know any better, in a way she waited for a nod or an agreement that was exactly how she was meant to feel. “He’s probably clawing at the ground." Zofie’s head turned to Eris, who was swirling a drink in his hands. “Shut up, Eris," Lucien growled.

“Nyx?”, Zofie quickly cut in, “You’re talking about Nyx?” She wasn’t sure why, but even the sound of his name leaving her lips made her tingly. Lucien sighed hesitantly. From the way the grayish-blue tint painted his palms, he was nervous.

“Uncle Luci, is this an illness? He had a fever," Zofie cut in, a wave of anxiety slamming into her chest. “No, no, it’s...", Lucien ran a hand through his hair before twisting the ends. The sound of the glass being placed on the table was followed by Eris’s voice, “You found your mate, girl", "Eris," Lucien hissed.

Zofie shook her head, “We’re just friends." She had read about mates. How hard was it to find one. How long did it take. She had seen her married parents. The way Azriel understood Y/N without words. Images of the night Zofie had run away flooded her mind. How Nyx had found her. He always seemed to find her when she needed him most.

“Look at your cheeks, girl," Eris chuckled. “You blush at the thought of him. Not to mention that his scent is all over you; he sure as hell wanted you to be his." The lordling pointed his glass at Zofie before taking a sip. If she was blushing beforehand, now she had to be a deep shade of crimson. She didn’t know what she felt on her skin. The comforting scent. Whatever it was it was warming her from the outside. And she had no idea that it had anything to do with Nyx.

"Eris," Lucien hissed for what felt like a thousand times before turning to her. “Look, Zofie, nothing is set in stone, but..." he said softly, clearly trying to ease her daze. “You said he chased you when you ran,” Lucien asked after a heartbeat. Zofie simply nodded. “Mother, I can’t believe I’ll have to ask." He grunted more to himself as he ran a hand over his face.

“Was there a part of you that didn’t want to run or found that run thrilling?”, Eris’s words once again slammed into her. As if trying to break the glass, all the emotions were still simmering beneath. To let loose the feeling that was clawing at her from within. Lucien had turned to his brother so quickly that even Zofie felt the swoosh of air hitting her face. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the way he was burning red, and the look was anything but pleasant. “What? I’m simply voicing what’s on your mind”, the oldest Vanserra shrugged. Whatever Lucien grumbled to him in return, she didn’t understand.

“Zofie, this can be overwhelming. Finding a mate…," Lucien had started, but she quickly cut in. “We can’t; this is not," she said, shaking her head. Yes, he has been there ever since. Yes, everyone had teased him about the way he had always been swooned by her. Yes, every memory she had was somehow interlinked with him. But…

“You need to breathe, hun; I already reached out to your mom." Zofie felt Lucien’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll do a much better job than us explaining this to you." He smiled softly at her, but she still shook her head. “He’s a prince, and I... I don’t have anything, and we never will. Never," she said, wrapping her arms around herself, frowning. "Zofie," Lucien called out sympathetically. “It’s a gift, girl; many die never experiencing a touch of their true lover," Eris cut into her panic, making it all halt for a moment as she stared at him and he right back at her. “Feel it out and then take control of it," he said firmly.

Nyx’s pov:

“Zofie”, he had been searching in the woods for what felt like forever. Dropping in the cold flow of the lake. Zofie was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Nyx couldn’t see her. He couldn’t find her in his consciousness. Couldn’t winnow to her. But every single cell in his body burned with her. Ached for her. Making him frantic and clumsy as he flew over and over the place she had just simply disappeared from.

"Zofie!" he shouted once more. "Nyx”,’the sound of his name made him turn around quickly, but the relief soon turned into anger. "No, you can’t be here," he hissed at the sight of his father. All dressed in black, looking down on him. No, he wasn’t going to share this with him.

“It’s okay, bud; we want to help," Cassian stepped from behind Rhys, followed by Azriel, and yet another wave of panic hit him like a stone. "No, you will take her away," Nyx hissed, pulling back. “Pull yourself together," Rhys snarled, his eyes burning holes in Nyx.

"Rhysand," Cassian warned as Nyx bared his teeth at his father. Panting frantically. “Hey, look at me," Azriel called out, but not in the way that Nyx was used to. A softer version of that. An understanding one. “I didn’t hurt her, I promise," Nyx muttered, shaking his head at the burn in his eyes. “I know, it’s okay," Azriel reassured him as he stepped closer.

“I need to find her. What if something happened?”, Another load of panic slammed into him, making Nyx cave into himself. "Nyx, she’s safe; we know where she is, bud," Cassian said softly, and while those words should have put Nyx at ease, he felt anger rising within him. Why did they do it? Why didn’t they tell him? Were they keeping her away?

“Take me to her right now," he demanded, pointing his finger at them in a warning. “You need to calm down first," Azriel told him. “I'm calm," he reassured his uncle, even if he was practicing shaking. “Do you know what’s going on?”, Rhys asked. A mixture of sadness lingered in his eyes. “Nothing is going on," Nyx snarled back before adding, “I think I'm going to go mad." His hands reached up to tug at his onyx's hair.

“That’s the mating bond," Rhys said so casually as if this wasn’t a life-altering thing. Nyx’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head. “Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were enamored with her when you were kids," Rhys said firmly. “I found your sketchbooks; she’s all you’ve been drawing.”.

It felt as if Nyx’s chest was hallowed out and then forced full of rage. “You knew?”, he hissed through clenched teeth. “Of course I knew," Rhys groaned angrily, pulling at the collar of his button-up. “And yet you still threw me in the embrace of all the other girls?” Nyx was shouting now, ready to claw at his father’s face. But Cassian rested a palm on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“I was trying to distract you," Rhys replied, “You’re too young to mate; look at yourself." He guessed at him as if he were nothing. Nothing more but a mess. “I will kill you," Nyx shouted, ripping away from Cassian, “I will leave you in ribbons." Azriel hand caught him around his middle, his shadows wrapping him up in a cold blanket.

“Think about Zofie, Nyx," he whispered to the boy. “Pull yourself together for her." And even if he still looked at Rhys with nothing but disgust, the panting eased. “Leave Rhys," Cassian said with a shake of his head. The high lord was about to argue, but it was Azriel who had cut in, “Just go; we got this." Something like disagreement and guilt rushed through Rhys’s face, but he didn’t say a single thing. Casting one more look at his son before winnowing away.

“I need to see her," Nyx said as soon as his father had disappeared. “You will once you find control within yourself," Azriel muttered as he let him go. “I can’t breathe without her," Nyx admitted, his hands gripping at his throat as if he wanted to claw another air passage. The two males looked at each other for a second. “Even when she’s not with you, a part of her is always there," Cassian said attentively, motioning for Nyx to come sit by the river's edge with him. “That part is your leverage," Azriel added, also joining them in the grass. “Your northern star, if you will, it’s something that will always guide you." Nyx simply nodded his head as he listened. “And that’s the thing that will let you feel her when you’re apart," Cassian said, throwing a rock into the rippling water.

“But that’s been there for years..." Nyx admitted, placing a hand on his chest where that little flame had been sparkling ever since he first laid eyes on Zofie. At that time, he was too young to even distinguish between the emotions, but now he knew that it had been there all along. “You’re one lucky bastard to have found a mate before even reaching a hundred," Cassian chuckled, shoving Nyx’s shoulder slightly.

“I don’t know how to take care of her like that," he shrugged, the self-doubt nearly choking him. “Yes, you do," Azriel said firmly, “In your own ways, you’ve been taking care of our girl for years," Nyx felt at ease in Azriel’s words. A father had been protecting his daughter, and he could understand that. But knowing that a part of Azriel trusted Nyx enough to let him be close to Zofie was the biggest achievement in his books.

“This just adds extra spice," Cassian said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Cassian," Azriel growled in a warning. “What? They will fuck," his uncle shrugged. Both Azriel and Nyx turned to him with a growl. “My god, I will kill you," Azriel said, shaking his head. “Don’t talk about her like that, you pig," Nyx added with a snarl. But Cassian was grinning from ear to ear, “See, perfectly capable of taking care of her.”

Your pov:

You had been rubbing your palms together as you walked across the living room back and forth. If not for Novie, who from time to time demanded some attention, you would have probably walked a hole on the floor. You felt Azriel before he had even walked through the front door. Quickly rushing to get to the entrance. “And?”, you clasped your hands on your chest as you awaited your mate's words. “He’s okay; I’m confident that he can hold his own," Azriel said, shrugging off his jacket. “This is so exciting," you chirped, smiling from ear to ear as Azriel stepped closer, cupping your cheek.

“I mean, considering that she ended up in autumn, it’s not too thrilling," Azriel pointed out, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. "Oh, stop! Lucien is an angel." You hit Azriel’s chest softly. Lucien had been a big part of your family too. Azriel was the one who had wanted to burn any bridges that led to Elain, but you had been quick to remind him that Lucien had nothing to do with it.

“Eris is not." Azriel grumbled, but you brushed his words off, cupping his face in your palms, “Our girl found her mate." And even if you knew how hard it was for Azriel to let go of Zofie, he couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face.

“Madja said that it’s been over six hundred years since she’s seen a bond snapping so early on," Azriel said quietly, but his face soon matched the giddy excitement on your face. “Gosh, their wedding will be stunning. We can...", “Yeah, no wedding planning yet, don’t want to think about that," Azriel pulled you closer, clasping a hand over your mouth as you giggled.

"Mom," a quiet voice got you two pulling apart as you gazed at Zofie. Lucien right beside her. "Oh, my darling, my big girl," you sighed, closing the distance between you both and wrapping her up in your arms. “I didn’t...", she quickly shook her head apologetically. “Don’t you dare apologize for the gift Mother granted you?" You pulled back slightly and cupped her rosy cheeks. “Not all of us are lucky to find our other half so quickly." You could see the conflict raging within her, yet she still nodded before glancing to the side, “Papa…”

It was more of a whisper than a call. Yet Azriel’s eyes softened intensely as he opened his arms to her. You nudged her slightly. Her first steps were unsure, but then she practically ran to him. Azriel instantly wrapped her up. His wings followed the motion. Their happy little bubble. Like it had been from day one.

“As long as you occasionally come back for a cuddle and my pies," he muttered against her hair, making her chuckle slightly. “It seems like yesterday you were no bigger than my palm, and now look at you." Azriel shook his head, looking at his daughter. You could tell that he was fighting the urge to cry. Zofie had been one of the things that brought Azriel back to life. A big part of his demons died when she appeared. And knowing that for so long she had needed him like air and now she was able to stand on her own two feet no doubt felt bittersweet.

“You’ll always be my little star," he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “Even with Novie?” Zofie asked. That almost desperate plea to still be important enough is burning within her. “Especially with her," Azriel promised. “I’ll always be your wings, remember?” She nodded eagerly, warping her arms around his neck as he hugged him as best as her tiny frame allowed her. “Come on now; your boy is probably mixing sky and earth together," Azriel nudged her. Zofie’s cheeks grew red immediately. “He’s not my boy," she argued back. “Boyfriend?”, you chirped in with a smirk. "Mom," Zofie growled, “not you too.”.

Nyx’s pov:

Nyx had been walking back and forth for what felt like an eternity. His father. Rhys. Rhys had been the one to suggest that he should be separated from Zofie for some time. For caution, he had said. His mother had tried to interfere, but the high lord had decided. Nyx was prepared to rage. To fight, but it was Azriel who had stepped in. Azriel, who had disagreed with the decision, in that moment Nyx felt like kneeling in front of his uncle so he could say thank you. Zofie was under Azriel’s protection; she was his daughter, so his word in the matter was final.

And now here he was in the house of wind. Jumping up at any and every sound. He was also more than aware that Zofie had a right not to come at all. He knew that she very well might not want to do anything with him. She might just be terrified of him. He would be terrified of himself too. Maybe he even was. Never before had he completely let his feelings for her take over. Never had felt as if parting was a death wish.

"Hey," his whole world shifted, tilted, and tuned over with one single word. He wasn’t even sure if he could turn around. To look at her without wanting to hold her. Without wanting to touch her. "Nyx," Zofie breathed as if reading his struggles. She stepped around him to stand right in front of him. It felt both like a salvation and a curse to be so close to her. “I’m afraid to touch you," he rasped out, drowning in her golden eyes for a heartbeat too long. Quickly turning his head to the side. "Nyx," she muttered under her breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you," he pleaded, stepping back.

“You wouldn’t, couldn’t, you've"—her voice was so soft and comforting, but he couldn’t let it take over. “I chased you," he said firmly. He lready hate that part of him. That moment. And she knew it too. Knew that he would use that to beat himself up. “You didn’t know... We didn’t know what that was," she said, stopping the emphasis on the word we, and something deep and primal flustered within him. “You were so warm, I thought it was a fever of some sort." There was so much worry in her voice. So much concern he wished he could chase away. But he just didn’t trust himself to move.

“Relax your fists," Zofie breathed, and only now did he realize that he had been clenching his hands so tightly that they were white. “I can't," Nyx muttered through clenched teeth. “Yes, you can. It’s just me," she said, reaching out to him, but Nyx backed away once again. Back hiring the wall. He brushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t deserve you," he crocked under his breath. “Don’t be silly," Zofie said firmly, pretty much closing the distance between them.

He knew this was mutual. He knew that, in the same way, he would never touch her without her permission. She would never touch him without his. He knew the question was coming before it had even grazed her lips. “Can I touch you?" she whispered. Nyx could feel her eyes on him. "Zof." He wasn’t sure at this point who exactly he was warning. “Just your cheek," she pleaded, and he had made a mistake when he let his eyes find hers. The last strings holding him back snapped as he nodded. She smiled up at him, carefully brushing her warm fingers against his cheek. Nyx had never understood what his mother and aunts had in mind when they said that their partners purred. But he was a heartbeat away from that, as he leaned closer to her.

“Not so bad, huh?", Zofie teased with a smile, and the moment she had moved her palm away, Nyx grasped it in his palm, resting it back on his cheek. “Your touch is a heaven," he muttered, letting himself soak her in, “You’re so fucking pretty." Her cheeks bloomed with crimson at his words. "Stop!", she chuckled under her breath. “As pretty as the sun," Nyx whispered with so much love that his chest hurt, “You’re my sun. Chasing all the bad away." Zofie inhaled shakily, her bottom lip trembling as she watched him.

“Kiss me," she said all of a sudden, stepping on her very tiptoes so she could reach him better. "Sunny," he said, shaking his head. Having her so close was already too much. "Please," she begged, her big golden eyes leaving him defenseless. “I don’t know if..." Nyx had started to argue. But she killed the distance between them. She was the one kissing him. And it’s like the heaven gate has opened. As if someone dunked his head in the purest form of love. It felt as if tiny needles were prickling his skin. But most importantly, he felt as if he was alive—so alive. Alive like never before. “Do you know how long I wanted to do this?", Nyx pulled away sheepishly, licking his lips as he looked down at her flustered form. “Less talking, more action," Zofie chirped with a grin of her own as she held onto his neck, chuckling as he pulled her in by her hips. “Forever?”, Nyx asked, right by her lips, practically feeling the beat of her heart. "Forever," Zofie muttered breathlessly. She had barely touched his lips when Nyx scooped her up in his arms, making her squeal. She didn’t need to ask where he was talking to her when the air around her grew colder. The lake house had become theirs from day one. There were too many conversations. Too many memories. Too many lingering touches filled that space for it to be anyone but theirs.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404 @azrielsmate3

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #nyx x oc #nyx acotar imagine #nyx acotar x reader #nyx x reader #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #nyx acotar #nyx archeron

[catcze]

I can’t find your rules anywhere, so just ignore this if it breaks any of them or if it’s too specific, but I just had this thought…

Friends with benefits + mutual pining with Wriothesley :0

You don’t get to meet up too often because of your busy schedules, but when you do it’s more than worth the wait. You almost don’t want to leave his bed when it’s over, but you’re too scared to stay, and he wordlessly let’s you leave even though he wants nothing more than to pull you back down and never let you go.

Love is a scary thing, after all, so you both dance around the subject for months.

But one day he finally caves in and decides that enough is enough, so when you prepare to leave he wraps his arms around you and quietly whispers, “stay.”

Nothing more needs to be said. You both catch the underlying meaning behind his words, and you’re finally ready to accept all that entails :,))

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

I AM BARKIFNAJKSDAJKSNSA HOLOY SHITTTT AJKWDBNJKASNJAKSDN my god. friends w benefits to lovers. mutual pining. mY GOD THOSE ARE TWO OF MY FAVORITE TROPES 😭😭😭😭😭😭 im sCREAMIFNAKSJDNAKJSDSAJK

「 CWS : 」 fair warning the concept alludes to sex and has mentions of sex, but nothing is, like, explicit. It's just used as plot points and as a device more than anything. That being said, if uncomfy, don't read ♡

like MAN the first time you both fall into bed together, it's after a party that, for the sake of keeping up appearances and keeping your jobs, required attendance. Neither of you were particularly happy to be there, and as fellow wallflowers you hit it off as you hid from the crowd on a balcony together. Then, after a few flutes of overpriced champagne, a quick reassurance from you that you could definitely fuck in one of the rooms of this mansion without getting caught, the rest of the night was history.

It started out normally, at first— every now and then one of you would contact the other after a stressful day, and you would either fuck in his place or yours, then leave before midnight. No lingering kisses, no sparks of possessiveness. Not at first. Not until you appear at Wriothesley's doorstep, looking tired, disheveled and sad. You ask for him to fuck you out of whatever slump you're feeling but it doesn't feel right to him. So instead of fucking you into his mattress, he's instead making you a meal out of whatever he can find in his pantry and offering a willing ear over a few glasses of wine. He learns a lot about you that night— about what you like, what you dislike. The feelings that you play close to your chest that hardly anyone ever sees. He even learns about your laugh, and how stunning you look when you smile like that. He learns something about himself too— that just sex with you might not be enough for him anymore.

You seem like you learn something about him, too. When you both grow quiet after talking and sharing together, laying your hearts out for the other to see, there's a newfound tension between you too. At one point, he come close, lips near hovering over yours, ready to give you a kiss more gentle and yet more meaningful than all the kisses before—

then one of the wine glasses tumble to the floor, and you giggle and you're tipsy and you're looking anywhere but at Wriothesley and he backs off, also so so so confused about what will happen now. Now that he wants something more. That night, you take his bed and he stays out on the sofa, thoughts too muddled by everything that just occurred to get any proper sleep. Unbeknownst to him, you don't get any rest that night either.

Things change. A little. Neither of you talk about That Night. Neither of you address the almost-kiss that would have definitely meant more than just this casual fucking. You're both confused, scared of the feelings that grow like wildflowers and vines, begging to be let out. Neither of you talk about it though, too scared to make the first move and ruin a good thing because of selfishness. But neither of you can stay away from each other— even despite busy schedules and hectic work, you manage to meet each other and have some of the most mind-blowing sex. It usually happens at his place, now, despite it being where That Night took place. You become a fixture in his home on nights when you're both available, taking up space in his bed but never staying too long.

Each time you slip out from under the covers, pulling your clothes on, blowing him a kiss that you can both tell is becoming more and more strained before you dart out the door, too fast for his racing heart to catch up with. You don't give yourself enough time to think about what would happen if you just stayed. If you buried yourself under the sheets and against Wriothesley and just let yourself be vulnerable, hoping that things fall into place the way you wish they would.

Wriothesley lets you walk out each time, all too aware of the conflict that paints your face. He's feeling the same thing too, after all. You struggle to move, to get out of there before you do anything dumb, Wriothesley struggles to hold still, to not take your hand in his and press the softest kisses on your arm, up to your face and to just hold you like he's been wanting to for months. His heart aches when he hears the frantic rustle of your clothes being practically thrown on, wishing that he could just bridge the gap and ask you to stay.

But it's too much one day. You slip out of the sheets like you always do, on foot on the floor, the other still tangled in the blankets, forcing yourself to move move move because if you stop for just a second you know that you'll never want to leave. But you look so sad to leave. All too much like That Night that started all of this. And his heart aches for a different reason than usual and before he can even think (because he knows that he'll never forgive himself if you leave looking like you're just going to spiral in your own thoughts when you get back to yours) he wraps a hand around your upper arm, pulling your back against his chest and holding you close—

so close, you can feel how his heartbeat hammers against his ribcage. You can feel his breath against the back of your neck and how his breath hitches as he prepares to speak, arms coming up to hold you closer, finally letting himself hold you close like he's been wanting to for months.

"Stay," he whispers, sending shivers down your spine. It's just one word, but it falls so heavily in the silence. Months and months and months of this back and force dance of longing and pining finally being put to an end. He lays his heart out on the table— whatever happens next is all up to you.

You tug slightly on the arms holding you so tightly to him and as he loosens his grip you turn, draping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close and oh his heart skips a beat in his chest because he feels so much for you. So much that he cannot put it into words that is in any way close to the love and affection and the fondness that he feels for you.

So instead he holds you close, one arm around your back, hugging you to his chest. The other grabs the edge of his blanket to drape over your forms when he lays you both down, skin to skin and heart to heart. He holds you against him under the blankets while you doze off in his arms, content and happy. And the rest is history.

Can you tell. Can you tell how much I absolutely love this trope.

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 strawberry.milk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 strawberry.cupcakes #Wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact #cw gn reader #cw suggestive content

[greazyfloz]

I need a pt4 pls your so talented

Smut: w/ Trevor Zegras

Wanna Try - Part 4

Since Trevor left, probably to deal with his problem, it was just Jamie and I sitting in the room watching Netflix. Not even really liking horror movies, Jamie sat across the room texting on his phone. Then looks over at me,

"Why did he agree to a movie if he was going to miss half of it?" he laughs

"No idea" I laugh

"Yo, Z!" Jamie yells just as Trevor reappears in the room

"What?"

"Oh, Why are we watching this if you are just going to jerk off in your room" Jamie says figuratively as he turns to look at Trevor.

I look at Trevor and purse my lips together trying not to laugh as although Jamie wasn't being serious, he was correct. Trevor looks at Jamie puzzled and Jamie's eyes grow wide

"No you weren't!" Jamie says then starts laughing hysterically, "You couldn't have waited?"

"That excited for Scream?" I ask playing along as if I had no idea about his issue

"Jenna Ortega actually" he says proudly, sitting on the couch beside me

We all settle down and continue watching the movie, well tried to.

"Wait, who is Billy?" Trevor asks

"He is the killer from the first scream movie" I answer

"Okay, so what is he so important?"

"Oh my god Z! Are you even watching?" Jamie says

When the movie finishes, I look at the time and it reads 11:30pm. I stand and look between the two boys, "Well, it's late" I say before making my way to the door.

"Just stay here" Jamie says

"Yeah, I'm not sleeping on the couch"

"You don't have to" Trevor says

"Yeah, take his bed. He will take the couch" Jamie says jokingly and looks at Trevor giving him a funny look

"I'm sure princess would be willing to do that" I say turning back around towards the door

"Sure I will" Trevor says, "couch is comfy enough"

"I'll see you later" I say to the boys shutting the door behind me then making my way to my car. I immediately pulled my phone out and texted Trevor

Y/N: If you want to fuck me so bad, come to my place... my roommates aren't home

Y/N: Don't make it obvious when you leave

I put my phone down and drive back to my place. Not making any stops on the way there. I pulled into my parking lot and checked to see if I had missed any texts from Trevor, but nothing. I texted back the people who had texted me back before grabbing my purse from the passenger seat and making my way towards the door.

I put the code into the front door to get into my apartment and open the door to walk inside when I see Trevor's Bronco in the reflection of the glass windows in front of me. I smile to myself and act like I didn't notice him come and made my way up to my apartment since he knows the code.

I walk inside and leave the front door open just a crack so he comes in. Sitting at the table waiting for him to come in, I watch as he quickly barges into my apartment. I stand a make my way over to him as he looks at me worriedly,

"You left your apartment door wide open" he says pointing back at the door

"I know" I smile before pressing my lips hard on his then pulling away, "I was expecting a visitor"

He swallows hard then presses his lips back on mine. We quickly help each other get undressed, eager to feel each other. After we are completely naked Trevor licks his lips and pressing them back against lip as we begin making out.

He lifts me up and slides me on the kitchen counter as he jerks himself off. His other hand trails down my body then brushes against my pussy making me shudder

"No foreplay, just fuck me" I tell him leaning down and smashing my lips on to his. He pulls away to pull me off the counter and turn me around so he can push me against it. He pushes his cock inside of me without warning although his cock isn't fully hard.

As he thrusts inside of me I can feel him harden making me moan louder as me continue to fuck, "Fuck Trevor" I moan as he pumps his cock inside of me.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this" Trevor says leaning into my ear from behind me as he continues to fuck me, "You feel so good around my cock" he says again making me melt.

He continues thrusting until eventually his thrusts slow down, "Okay, I'm close" he says pulling himself out of me, "your lips need to make me cum"

I turn and slide down the cabinets until I'm facing his cock. I grab it a jerk him off lightly before taking him in my mouth, "Fuck! Just like that" he says as I continue taking him back and forth in my mouth

"Oh shit!" he says before I feel his warm liquid run down my throat. I swallow before standing and Trevor squints his eyes at me as if he were ashamed, "You know I like to watch you swallow"

"Sorry" I say standing up and making my way to my bathroom.

I hear Trevor follow me, and watch as I turn on the shower, "I wasn't getting an invite" he asks.

"You don't need one" I say looking at him as I step inside the shower.

Trevor follows me inside and we take turns cleaning each other with the sponge. I turn around to face the water and take the opportunity to ask him something without having to face him

"Trev?" I ask

"Yeah"

"What did you mean, 'you don't know how long I've been waiting to do this?' " I ask him

"I didn't say that" he denies making me turn around and face him

"Yes, you did" I say and he sighs

"I said what I said" he says and shrugs

"Yeah, how long have you been waiting?" I ask him and he looks away awkwardly.

"Why don't we talk about this, maybe not in the shower" he laughs

"just tell me"

"For like a couple months" he says and my eyes go wide, "Fuck, I'm sorry"

"You've wanted to fuck me for months?"

"Well not just fuck..." Trevor says again looking away awkwardly and I turn around to shut off the water

"Wow" I say and he steps out of the shower and turns to open the door.

"I'll-um- just go"

"Wait" I say reaching for his hand, "stay the night"

Trevor turns around and looks down at me observing me face to see if I was serious.

"Okay" he says and I smile at him. I lean forward and kiss his lips and he kisses me back.

"So are we friends or.." I say looking around the room before looking back at him, "Are we kinda together now?" I ask him and he smiles widely

"Wanna Try?"

#nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl writing #hockey imagines #nhl smut #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine

[star-suh]

So since you write for Jackson wang

I have a silly request

How about writing like one of those old wattpad fanfics where you get invited to his private VIP party and he ends up having sex with you and falling in love with you

I’d absolutely love to see your take on one of those fics

Not Your Typical Party 

jackson wang x male reader

cw: top jackson, bttm m reader, friends to lovers trope, some fluff sprinkled, some angst sprinkled too (like crying, a bit and comforting), implied kinda drunk jackson during sex but he is conscious, passionate and rough sex at the same time, pet names, fingering, spit as lub, unprotected sex, mating press (kinda obsessed with it later teehee)

—

it was friday night and y/n was getting ready to go to THE jackson wang's party, it is well known that he loves to throw wild vip parties in the most luxurious places in the city, so for y/n it was like a goal accomplished being capable of assist to at least one of those. it happened during one of y/n's walks, he accidentally bumped into jackson, his old college friend/crush. "y/n?" says jackson "woah, i almost didn't recognize you without your glasses. how's your life going?" he asked. "hehe, nothing much" answered y/n "just working". "you should take a break, it will do good to you" recommended the man "i'm organizing a party this friday night, come enjoy all the night" he smiled at y/n making him a bit flustered "ah… ye-yeah" he stuttered. "here give me your number" says jackson passing to y/n his phone so he can type his number on it, "done" answered the flustered guy, "ok, see you later pal" he says while waving his hand "ah, put on those glasses you look cute with them" he yells while entering his car.

—

"well, let's go" said y/n nervously opening the doors, he thought that his feelings for jackson were gone but no… they're there. he was received by lots of colored neon lights, people drinking, dancing and swimming in the pool, there was a sexy shirtless dj accompanied by lots of girls and a boy sitting who was kinda sad, y/n felt bad for him and was gonna ask him what happened "oh there you are" yelled jackson y/n turned towards the voice meeting a jackson in a robe and long pants, he was shirtless showing his perfect abs "oh h-hey" stuttered y/n "like the view? you're stuttering" mocked and laughed jackson "come here take a drink" y/n did as he said "i'll come later" jackson waves a goodbye and left y/n in a table drinking.

minutes have passes and y/n was getting bored, this definitely wasn't a place for him, all people having fun but not him "i guess it was a bad idea coming here" he says circling the bottle's tip. y/n stands up and went to the bathroom, find jackson to say goodbye and leave. 

"oh hey" y/n says to get jackson's attention who was talking to some girls "talk to you later" he says to the girls and went straight to y/n "what happened?" he asks. "nothing" replied y/n touching the back of his neck embarrassed "just wanted to say goodbye i have to go now". "no, please don't go" says the drunk man, grabbing y/n by the hand and dragging him towards a room, jackson's bedroom. "please stay with me" begged jackson starting to kiss y/n who opened his eyes wide in surprise but just let himself go enjoying the delicious and wet kiss "you taste like many liquors" said y/n making jackson smile.

the clothes of both were being discarded one by one with jackson touching every inch of y/n's sexy body "so fucking sexy. and just for me" growled the man on y/n's ear. jackson started to grope y/n's ass and squeeze it very hard "hng" moaned y/n. "yes like that. moan for me pretty" whispered jackson kissing y/n's shoulders and the bottom doing the same with jackson's collarbones.

jackson lifted one of y/n's leg with a hand while fingering him with the other. "please, just put it in already" whimpered y/n wanting to feel jackson inside him "as you wish prince". both lay down in bed and jackson introduced his cock in y/n then leaving it in there without moving so y/n would get used to the sensation. "you don't how much i've craved this. i love you" y/n then realizes what he just said and look directly at jackson's eyes "oh i'm sorry" said y/n embarrassed. "what do you mean?" asked jackson, "it's nothing" y/n was scared, he didn't know how jackson was going to react, he was dumb for saying that in the middle of sex, many mixed emotions made y/n start to cry. 

"shush, don't cry pretty boy" whispered jackson "it's ok, don't cry" he says wiping y/n tears and hugged him "it's ok, let it all out" he rubs y/n's back. seeing how he calmed down a bit jackson says "it's ok, you know why?" looking at y/n with loving eyes "i love you too silly" he smiles and kisses y/n who was shocked, his all-life crush just said that he loves him? y/n can't believe it. "and as proof of my love for you i'm gonna make you mine tonight" jackson bit y/n's ear and started to thrust. y/n was happy for what he just heard "fill me with your love then" he says hugging jackson as hard as he can…

in a mating press position jackson was drilling y/n so hard that the bed started to shake "i'm not gonna stop until you're full of my love,  i don't care if the bed breaks" the party man assured y/n couldn't say anything just moans and whimpers, feeling jackson reaching his sweet spot with every thrust. he then slip all his cock out leaving just the tip inside y/n's puffy gaping hole and then slammed again, doing the same thing like 10 times again. y/n started to jerk off feeling that sensation in his stomach "i'm gonna cum jackson" drool spilling out of his mouth "cum for me baby" says the top, kissing y/n and playing with his nipples to make him cum fast. "i'm c-cumming" yelled y/n shooting his cum landing on his abdomen and jackson's chest and some on his chin, he then cleans it with his thumb and lick it "so tasty" says jackson. "get ready to get filled" says jackson speeding up his pace, the loud music outside covering the skin slapping sounds "receive all my love and don-don't waste it" he says feeling he is very close "love. love. love. receive. all. my. lovee~" every word accompanied by a hard thrust, cumming finally in the last one and filling y/n's insides with his sperm. "i love you so much prince" says jackson laying at the side of y/n caressing his face, "i love you too" y/n replies…

—

it was morning, both already cleaned up and jackson accompanied y/n to the front door passing by drunk people sleeping everywhere in the garden. "ok then, see you later i guess" says y/n shyly waving "wait, hold on" yells jackson making y/n turn around to face him "here let me put them on you" he puts the glasses on y/n and adjusts his hair "you look cute on them" he says once again making y/n flustered "don't say that" y/n pushes jackson's shoulder who just laughed "why don't you wait for me to get ready and i take you in my car?... and i can invite you to have breakfast in a cafeteria i know, food there is delicious. what do you think?" he asks, "sounds good for me. just don't be late" answered y/n.

jackson kissed y/n leaving him surprised "it's a date then" he goes quickly to change clothes and y/n just looks at him with his face red as a tomato "fuck… i blush too easily... damn!" he thinks.

#jacksong wang x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #male reader #got7 x male reader #wang jackson x male reader #male reader smut #fluff attempt #angst attempt

[sooverwhitesandpinks]

Bejeweled

Ceo!Harry Styles x Gf!Reader

Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: angst?, fluff at the end, alcohol consumption, i think that's all. i did proofread, just not carefully.

Word Count: 2.1K

guess who finally wrote something! sorry for the months long writer's block, hope you enjoy.

Your phone lit up where you left it on the coffee table in front of you. Keeping your thumb between the open pages of your book, you reached for the device, hoping it was a text from your boyfriend.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed when you realized it was a message from your good friend, Hannah. You weren't disappointed because of Hannah, you were upset that today was becoming another one of those days without a word from Harry.

You knew being the CEO of a major company was a lot of time and dedication, but it had been months of only seeing Harry briefly in the morning and for an hour or so before bed.

As much as you loved him, you weren't getting any of that love or attention back.

'Anya, Erin, and I are going out tonight, you should join us. We haven't seen you in forever!!!'

Hannah's message stared back at you.

She was right. You hadn't been out in forever, and it's not like Harry would miss you tonight. You two were practically coexisting at this point. You stayed cooped up in this massive penthouse, Harry spent his days in his office or at business meetings and dinners. His weekends were taken up by work or trips related to the company.

Still, did you want to go out? You wouldn't mind getting ready for something other than the grocery store.

You decided you would give Harry a chance before answering Hannah. You pressed a few buttons on your phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" Harry answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey! How's your day going?" You replied, happy to hear his voice.

"It's fine so far-" You heard him shuffle around before giving someone an instruction. "Look honey, is this important? Because I've got a lot going on and my next meeting starts in a few minutes."

"Oh," you paused for a moment. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight? We haven't really seen each other the past couple months."

"I've got a business dinner tonight, but feel free to order in whatever you want. You know I don't mind. Was that all?" He asked.

You took a second before answering. It was one thing to practically ignore you, but it was another to make you feel unimportant. You remember when Harry made you feel like a priority, and now your relationship had been reduced to a 'good morning' and a 'goodnight'.

"Yeah, that's all," you shook your head, a sad smile tugging at your lips.

"Alright, I'll see you this evening," Harry said.

"I wouldn't count on it. I'm going out, don't wait up," you told him before hanging up.

'I miss you guys and I definitely need a night out! Where and when should I meet you?' You texted Hannah back.

5 hours later, you stood in front of the full length mirror in your closet, running your hands down the vintage Versace mini dress you picked out for some event of Harry's but never ended up wearing.

You felt good, great even. You took a long, relaxing shower. You had a glass of wine while you did your makeup and put every hair in place. It had been so long since you put time into yourself like this, you'd forgotten what it felt like to sparkle.

You grabbed a small handbag and walked out of the large closet. As you made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall, you heard the familiar sound of Harry's keys hitting the small table by the door.

With a smirk, you stepped around the corner and into view. You pretended to hardly notice Harry's presence as you grabbed your phone off of the couch and texted Hannah that you would be leaving in a few minutes.

You heard Harry's footsteps halt as he saw you. You waited a moment before looking up at him. You glanced down at the time on your phone.

"It's only 8:15, I thought you'd be at dinner," you said nonchalantly, slipping your phone into your purse.

"I moved it up a few hours so I could get home earlier," he answered, shrugging off his suit jacket.

"Ahh," you nodded, starting to walk past him and toward the door. He gently grabbed your arm and you let him, looking up at him expectantly.

"You're still going out?" He asked, brows furrowed. For just a second, you felt bad about leaving. Then you remembered how easily he dismissed you earlier on the phone, and how easily he's dismissed you for awhile now.

"Yeah, I told Hannah and the girls that I'd meet them in a few," you replied, watching his eyes scan over your body and back up to your face, pausing on your lips.

"But I moved my meeting so I could see you," he responded, his fingers slipping from your arm to your hand. His touch felt good, you'd missed him, but he can wait another night. You finally felt like you weren't the one left hanging.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to stay home the one time I made plans because you suddenly found a way to fit me into your tight schedule?" You tilted your head, matching his pout.

"Besides, you're seeing me now. I clean up nice, huh? I bought this dress for one of your events but it'll do for tonight."

"Honey-"

"Is this important? My ride is downstairs," you said, keeping your eyes on his. You watched it click as he realized he asked you the same thing hours ago. You raised a brow, pursing your lips.

"I guess not," he took a step back. "You look beautiful, love. Have fun tonight."

"I will," you smiled, finally walking to the door and stepping out of the house.

✨ 🪩 ✨

"I"m just a little tipsy," you slurred, holding up your thumb and pointer finger.

"Me too!" Hannah squealed, throwing her arms into the air.

Anya and Erin were still out on the dance floor, but you and Hannah were tucked into a large circle booth in the VIP section of the club.

You sat with the members of some band you'd never heard of. They were apparently a big deal. Hannah was obsessed with them and had scored herself a seat on the lead guitarist's lap.

You sat between one of their friends and the drummer, who was high out of his mind, chatting away with some other people that'd made their way up to VIP.

"You wanna dance?" Hannah asked, grinning wildly from across the table.

"Definitely," you nodded. You turned to the drummer beside you who was blocking your way out.

"Moonstone!" He smiled when you turned to him. He'd been calling you that all night, something about your aura. He referred to Hannah as Amethyst and Erin as Sapphire, you didn't catch Anya's.

"Can I squeeze past you?" You asked, pointed toward the outside of the booth.

"Of course," he nodded, nudging his friends out of the booth with him so you could get to where Hannah stood.

As soon as you were free from the table, one of your hands was grabbed by her as she dragged you down to the dance floor. Your other hand was looking at your phone for the first time all night, checking to see if Harry had said anything.

You saw two messages from him.

'I took tomorrow off. I figure we could spend the day together.'

'I miss you and I'm sorry for not making you feel as important as you are. I'll hopefully spend the rest of my life making it up to you.'

Despite the frustration you felt for months because of him, you felt a lot of relief in that moment. He did still want you. He still wanted forever with you. It wasn't something you realized you'd doubted until now.

'I hope you know I expect an apology in person too.'

You texted back. Simple enough to communicate that it will take more than a text message.

'And I'm excited to spend tomorrow with you. But I'm drunk so can we start around noon?'

You added, finally looking up from your phone as Hannah pulled you deeper into the sea of dancing people. You realized she'd located Erin and Anya.

"You still wanna dance?' Hannah shouted, starting to feel the music. You hadn't noticed it before, but it was deafeningly loud.

"Maybe just for a little while. I'm getting tired," you replied, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere but home.

"Are you okay getting home by yourself?" She asked.

"I'll just get an Uber," you shrugged. "I'll pretend to be on the phone with Harry if the driver seems shady."

"Fair enough," she laughed, turning more towards Anya and Erin.

"Bye ladies, it was fun seeing you. We gotta get lunch sometime soon," you leaned in between Erin and Anya to speak, hoping they'd hear you well enough.

The two drunk and sweaty women gave you a half hug, agreeing to lunch and wishing you a goodnight before they went back to senselessly jumping to the music.

You ordered the car as you walked to the door, only stepping outside when the app said it arrived.

The ride was short and your driver was nice enough.

As you entered your building and pressed your button on the elevator, you wondered if Harry was awake. You hadn't heard from him in almost an hour when he'd texted you to say noon was fine and to be safe.

You walked through the house, stepping out of your shoes at the door and carrying them with you to the bedroom. Harry sat up in bed, his computer in his lap as he typed away at something you were sure was work related.

"Hey Honey," he said softly as you entered, closing his laptop and setting it on his side table.

"Hey," you smiled, walking straight into the closet to change.

As you stepped out in your pajamas, Harry pulled open the covers, waiting for you to crawl in beside him.

You slipped under the duvet and dropped your head onto his lap, eyes closed. You heard him rustle around in the drawer of his nightstand before he pulled something out and closed the drawer.

You opened your eyes in time to see him pull a makeup wipe from its package.

"How was your night?" He asked, lowering the wipe to your face as he started to gently remove what was left of your makeup. It was something he used to do for you after his work events and charity galas. Or when the two of you would stumble in drunk after a night out.

"It was a lot of fun," you answered honestly. Those four or five hours were fun. You saw your friends and felt good about yourself.

"I'm glad," he replied, still brushing the wipe across your skin.

"How was yours?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"It was alright. I did a lot of thinking," he waited a bit before adding. "I missed you."

"But you didn't have to, Harry," you sighed. "I've been here the whole time, and it took me doing something for myself, for once, to get your attention."

"I'm so sorry, Honey. I've been terrible. I've just been so caught up in work and trying to land this account," he started explaining.

"I know, trust me, I do. That's why I haven't nagged you about it, but I deserve to feel like a priority, Harry. I know your work is important, but I should be too. We've been coexisting for almost two months now. We're supposed to be a team," you finally told him what's been on your mind.

"We will be, we are," he finished wiping your skin, now taking your face between his hands as he looked down at you. "You're it for me and I'm sorry for making you doubt that."

"You should be. I'm a goddamn prize, you know?" You told him with your tired tipsy rasp. You lifted yourself from his lap, sitting up to face him.

"Of course I do, Honey. You're a diamond, a pearl, a jewel," he grinned, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"I love you," you said softly, looking into the eyes that finally felt familiar again.

"I love you too," he leaned forward, closing the short distance between you.

Masterlist

Harry Styles Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #bejeweled #poc!reader #plus size!reader #gender neutral reader

[liennka]

Mizumono

Hannibal Lecter x Will's daughter X Will Graham

Summary: Will was supposed to help Jack with killing Hannibal, but he arrived too late and with him, his daughter, Y/n.... (s2e13)

-> This one is filled with angst, but i realised that's just what i am good at :) I am open to any criticism (be nice pls).

I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.

When Alana called about the warrant, Will didn't panic. He told Y/n to go downstairs, urging her to turn off the lights and grab a jacket. And as the police headlights came through the windows, they ducked and crawled on all fours to the back door, Will grabbing his gun. Outside, hidden in the darkness, they ran across their property, stopping on a road. The rain soaked their clothes, though at least the ground wasn't muddy, otherwise they'd be easy to track. A taxi pulled up and Will gave him an address. 

"Hannibal Lecter's house? Why are we going from one danger to another?" Y/n asked, much rather preferring a McDonald's or a cinema. 

"Because Jack will be there, and right now nowhere is safe," her father whispered, looking out the window, "and maybe it's the only address I know."

"That's probably it. What are we going to do then? Have a cup of tea with him and chat with Hannibal?" she sarcastically teased. 

"I gave him time to leave, nothing should happen".

Y/N wasn't so sure.

----●----●----●----

When they got off, her father couldn't have been more wrong. Alana laid there, glass broken, rain rinsing blood from her hair. She seemed dead, just the twitching from shock making her shoulders move up and down. 

"Alana!" Will rushed to her and wrapped her in his coat.

Y/n made note of her surroundings. The front door opened, all sorts of wet footsteps on the carpet, the second floor window busted. And a bloody burgundy dahlia looking at her from a pot near the entrance. 

"Betrayal," she hummed, crouching down beside Alana.

Will looked at her as if she was crazy. He had just called the ambulance and left Alana his phone. 

"The flowers," Y/n pointed out, "I guess he's inside.” 

"Jack's there too," Alana choked out.

Y/N was surprised, she thought Alana's rib cage was too damaged to speak, but Alana proved her wrong. Will nodded and stood up, his gun in both hands. Y/n stayed a little longer, not caring that her hair was now sticking to her ears and causing her to feel cold.

----●----●----●----

As she opened the door to the kitchen, the smell of blood hit her. There were knives, plates and glass everywhere, two pairs of shoes standing in the midst of it all. As she looked up, Hannibal's silhouette greeted her.  

"You were supposed to leave!" Will was standing in front of him.

"I couldn't leave without you two," Hannibal said affectionately. 

Y/n did not know who 'you two' meant, but had a hunch that it included her. Strangely, Hannibal didn't even spare her a look, placing his palm on Will's cheek as if to caress it. They both had such an intense gaze, the sexual tension almost making Y/n turn around to give them some privacy. The scenery looked like a theater piece, a tragedy at that. They dove into their world, where she didn't exist and where they spoke in a different language, or maybe she just lost her hearing from how loud her heart was beating.  Either way, Y/n wanted to separate them, to drag her dad back to their house, back to their dogs. 

She did not see the knife coming from her point of view. Her father simply yelped and took a step forward, crashing into Hannibal's arms. This wasn't real, no. Hannibal would never hurt Will, he was like the other half of his soul, she lied to herself. But there was a red stain on his shirt and when Hannibal embraced him, the weapon remained in his hand, as if to mock them. Y/n stood motionless, no sound could break through her frozen vocal chords. She never thought this would happen, her chest tightening and her eyes filling with tears of pure terror.

The impact of Will's body aligned with her first fallen tear. His body fell directly into a pool of Jack's blood, his pants soaking it up. A few droplets of their mixed blood landed on her shoe, ruining her white trainers. Y/n swallowed nauseously, not daring to look into her fathers eyes. 

Hannibal leaned forward, his crescent-shaped blade back on the counter. 

"I have let you know me, see me," Hannibal paused as Will struggled to breathe, "I gave you a rare gift, but you didn't want it.”

"Didn't I?" Will insisted heartbroken, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. He seemed distressed, but more than anything, he was furious. 

Y/n shut herself off, not wanting to remember her father so frail, choosing to merely listen. And when she heard Hannibal mention the shattered teacup again, something in her snapped. She opened her pocket knife behind her back, using it for the first time since she bought it after the encounter with Tobias. Her fight-or-flight instinct flipped a coin and settled on fight. In a blink of an eye, she was standing behind Hannibal, her knife placed just under his jaw.

Y/n had no idea what she was doing. Her mind told her to end it, to be free at last. But her heart knew that was not possible, not in this life. She couldn't stop shaking, so she applied more force, making him bleed a little.  Will sucked in his breath, not quite understanding what was going on as this was out of character for her. 

"We are not a shattered teacup. You can't glue us back together and pretend like nothing happened," Y/n croaked in his ear, her voice high-pitched.

The blade suddenly twitched as a chuckle erupted from Hannibal’s chest.

"No, you certainly are not just a piece of pottery, but you are indeed fragile."

“You should have left when Will told you to. Instead you slaughtered them all, rightfully or not, whether you believe in God or not. There is no excuse for that,” Y/n hissed, her disappointment in him turning her words bitter. 

"I should have seen it coming…you made us so blind," her disappointment in herself turning her words sour.

Alana's happy face when she gave her a handmade sweater, or Jack and Bella's Christmas party, it was all over. Her bright future turned dim.

"I just wanted us to be a family. Why," she sobbed, a big droplet falling on the floor, "why can't I have a genuine family for once?"

----●----●----●----

Taking advantage of her state of mind, Hannibal grabbed her hand, pulling the knife away from his throat and spinning her around. He took her face in his palms, making her look at him. Y/n had teardrops on her chin, red spots on her irritated skin, her lips chapped and her eyelashes littered with fresh tears. He wiped them away so she had a clear view of him. However, he was no better, his normally perfectly sleek bangs were now messy, blood on his collar and some drying under his nose. He was bruised and in pain, yet he still looked like the most charismatic man she had ever seen. A charismatic man that attempted to erase her father's existence. 

"You don't get to start over after what you've just done, that's not fair!” she tried to wriggle out of his grip, “You hurt Will and you broke my trust. What do you expect us to do?" 

"Nothing, such is life. Don't fight it, let it all go."

Y/n raised her eyebrows in disbelief, a single tear running down her cheek. By now she could care less about having a weapon on her side, she felt she had already lost. 

"'And what if I don't want to let it go, to forget or forgive?" 

"Then you lose yourself," Hannibal directed his gaze back to Will, "I forgive Will. Will he forgive me?"

"'Don't. No, no, no!" Will uttered for the first time after his collapse.

It broke his heart, but there was nothing to be done, his design was meant to be finished and everything had to go according to plan. He pried her knife from her slack hold, unbeknown to her. 

"What are you tal-" Y/n's question couldn't be finished as she was silenced.

Her own knife, now in Hannibal's possession, was plunged blade deep into her side, almost identically to her father's. She yelped as she felt her muscles being torn apart, the stinging as Hannibal yanked it out causing her to choke. Her eyes opened wide as if trying to comprehend what was happening. The searing pain in her torso sent her to the ground, but it was the pain in her heart that made her burst out crying again, only this time it would not stop. Hannibal slowly lowered her down beside Will, splattering the tiles with her blood and tears like the rain would.

 She shook, struggling to catch her breath. With one hand she pressed against her wound, with the other she found her father's hand and weakly squeezed it. She felt his cold fingers, the energy draining from his body. 

"Dad," Y/n muffled her cries. 

Will wanted to help her, to hold her and console her, but he'd been bleeding for so long he couldn't even open his mouth. He had no choice but to watch with half-closed eyes as the entire room bathed in red.  

"You can make it all go away. Put your head back, close your eyes," Hannibal reached for Will's shoulder and met his eyes. "Wade into the quiet of the stream".

Y/n blinked at Hannibal for a second, but instead of a man, she saw a red horned monster with black dahlias sprouting from its eye sockets. So this was his true self, she realised.

“We were never meant to work, were we?” she clutched at Hannibal's trousers with her bloodied fingers. 

There was a silence for a while, Will's labored breathing slowing and her own sniffles fading to silent tears. Hannibal knelt down and ruffled her wet hair. 

And as her father closed his eyes, Hannibal asked her: "Will you forgive me?"

Y/n wanted to say no. She wanted to send him into the pond of burgundy ink as well, but her own mind said otherwise. 

"'Maybe, if you promise to make us work."

He smiled and stood up, not looking at her again. As his footsteps faded away, Y/n's warm blood grew chilly and her eyes heavy. With her last strength she kissed her father's knuckles, her last tears streaming down her face.  

----●----●----●----

She shed tears for how pitiful her ending was. And as her vision got blurrier, she bid farewell to her life.

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