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starb3rrys · 7 months

Note

Can I request pt 2 of the stuck in a tight space with Ranpo, Dazai, and chuuya?

Hello! Thank you for the request! I’m pleased to see that so many people liked my “A Tight Fit~” head-canons! I got a lot of requests for a part 2 with different characters so I will respond to this one and just tag the rest (Sorry-). Anyways, I hope you enjoy these head-canons! <3

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A Tight Fit~ ❀Part 2❀

Ft. Ranpo, Dazai, Chuuya, Fukuzawa

✾Part 1✾

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Ranpo

Scenario: Ranpo had deduced that a criminal hideout was located in an old abandoned coal mine. You had accompanied Ranpo on his investigation as his “Bodyguard” of sorts, in case anything went down hill…and sure enough, something did.

**THUD**, the loud sound of your two bodies falling and crashing together filled the dark mine, the ground underneath you had crumbled, causing the two of you to fall into a small, cramped hole.

“Ugh…my head…”, Ranpo said with a pained and annoyed tone.

You opened your eyes but were faced with pitch darkness, “I can’t see anything…”

Ranpo scoffed, “Well of course captain obvious, the force of the fall caused the flashlight to go out, it also caused you to fall on top of me.”, he was clearly annoyed with the current situation.

You tried to move, but stoped as you heard a quiet groan leave Ranpo’s lips.

You were confused, was he hurt?

“Hey Ranpo, Are you alrig-“ “Don’t move.”, he cut you off with a stern tone.

You were stunned, you didn’t understand why his tone suddenly changed, “What? Wh-“, you froze as you felt something under you, something hard was poking you.

You knew exactly what it was.

The realization made you blush profusely, you jumped up in surprise.

Another groan left Ranpo as you landed back on his lap, his hands gripped your hips to keep you still.

“I said don’t move.”, his voice sounded annoyed but you could hear a hint of embarrassment.

You sat still on him, flushed and embarrassed at your current position, how were you going to get out of here? You can’t move, there’s no light, you can’t just stay like this forever…

The flashlight beside you flickered, and the light revealed your current position.

As you looked down, you were faced with Ranpo’s expression; his cheeks were flushed, eyes were open, as his hair was sprawled on the floor messily, an annoyed yet embarrassed frown was plastered on his face.

“Grab on to that rock above you and try to climb out.”, Ranpo spoke with a stern voice, letting go of your hips.

You snapped out of your trance and quickly nodded, you did as he asked and eventually made it out of the hole.

“Now pull me out.”, Ranpo instructed with a quiet tone as he stretched his hand up so you could take a hold of it.

You took his hand and pulled him out, he was surprisingly lightweight…

Once you two stood up and brushed off your clothes, you looked at each other, blush still decorated your cheeks…

“Ranpo I-“, “Let’s postpone this investigation…”, he said quietly as he turned away and started walking, you quickly followed behind as you both made your way out of the cave.

You swear you could see a soft pout on his face as you both walked silently.

You two never spoke of that incident again, often avoiding each others gaze. Although he’ll never admit it, he loved the feeling of you on top of him and would give anything to feel you like that again…

Dazai

Scenario: You and Dazai were a troublemaking duo who often would prank others and cause mischief just for the hell of it. So it was a surprise to no one as you two ran across the agency building, trying to escape a furious Kunikida who didn't seem too pleased with you messing around with his notebook. In a split second decision, Dazai pulled you into a small, dark, and cramped storage room, shutting the door and covering your mouth.

“Mmm?!”, you let out a muffled noise of confusion, as a strong hand covered your mouth.

“Shh...”, Dazai spoke, and you looked up; your eyes meeting Dazais, the silence broke as you two let out a quiet snicker.

As the quiet laughter ceased, you moved Dazai's hand away from your mouth, “Do you think he saw us hiding in here?”, you whispered.

“I doubt it, we are way faster than he is.”, he whispered back.

“He looked so mad!”, you said with a faint giggle.

“I know! I'm pretty sure I saw him foaming at the mouth!”, Dazai muttered with an amused tone.

Quiet footsteps could be heard down the hall...

Dazais hand swiftly returned to your mouth, keeping you quiet.

You scooted closer to Dazai, your chest pressing against his, trying to avoid being close to the door-

“Mnh...’, a low moan left Dazais lips, your eyes widened at the noise.

You slowly looked up at Dazai with confused eyes, his face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes met.

At first, you didn't understand what he was groaning about- that's when you felt it...a soft poke against your crotch.

Your face burned red at the realization, you were quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the footsteps grew closer.

Your breath hitched as the footsteps stopped right in front of the door, a shadow could be seen under the door.

Dazais arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, making you both groan.

You both slapped each other's hands on one anothers mouth to shut each other up, you both stared at each other, wide eyed and not knowing what to do or say...you were both close...so close...

The door swung open, startling the two of you, quickly letting go of each other, “THERE YOU TWO ARE! I OUGHTA BREAK YOUR NECKS!!”, Kunikida yelled.

No snarky comment left Dazais lips, nor yours as you both quietly walked out of the storage room.

“Uh?”, Kunikida was muddled as he saw the two of you just- walk out; uncharacteristically quiet, avoiding eye contact with each other, as flush decorated your faces.

“Jeez, What happened in there?”, Kunikida asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing.”, you both said with an embarrassed tone as you turned around and went your separate ways.

You both made an unspoken agreement to never mention what happened in that storage room, but you both sure as hell won't forget about it any time soon...

Chuuya

Scenario: It was a busy Monday morning, all of the port mafia employees ran around going on missions, conversing important information and such. Ironically, for a big, rich company- the port mafia’s elevators were pretty standard size, which did not work well with how many employees worked in the building. As you entered the elevator, a flood of employees entered as well, making the elevator pretty cramped…pressing you against a certain mafia executive…

“Oof”, you let out a soft grunt as your body collided with someone else’s.

You quickly turned around, “Agh, sorry…”, you mutter out an apology, your eyes widened as you finally saw who you bumped into.

The man brushed his vest off, “It’s fine, no worries the elevator is pretty cramped.”, Chuuya reassured you.

You quickly fixed your hair and looked down, avoiding eye contact, feeling a bit nervous standing in front of a higher up, especially one of the five port mafia executives…he could easily get you fired if he wanted t-.

Your thoughts were interrupted as another swarm of employees entered the elevator.

Everyone in front of you moved back to make more room, causing you to get pushed back against Chuuya.

Chests pressed tightly against each others as his hands instinctively found their way around your waist.

Chuuya held back a quiet moan, covering his mouth with his hand as his face turned as red as his hair…

You didn’t dare look at him as you felt his hands on you, you know it wasn’t on purpose…the elevator was just too cramped, yeah that’s all-

A soft poke by your crotch made your mind go blank, your eyes trailed down and you could see a small tent in his pants, clear as day.

Your mind ran 1000mph at this point, your heart skipping beats as you internally panicked.

**DING**, the elevator doors opened.

Chuuyas hands left your waist, snapping you out of your trance.

You turned and looked at Chuuya as he quickly walked out of the elevator, his hand tilted his hat down to cover his eyes but failed to cover the deep shade of red on his cheeks.

You were left alone in the elevator as his figure quickly disappeared amongst the crowd…

Though that interaction was short lived, it greatly affected the way you both viewed each other now…who knew you would have such a memorable experience with a port mafia executive?

Fukuzawa

Scenario: You and Fukuzawa were enjoying a nice stroll around Yokohama, the beautiful scenery only added to the peace and comfort you felt as you walked together. A soft meow caught the attention of you two, looking up, you saw a small cat stuck on a tree. You were both instantly struck with the need to help the poor kitten, which explains why you were now seated on Fukuzawas shoulders…

“A little more to the right!”, you instructed Fukuzawa as you tried your best to get closer to the kitten.

“Mm.” Fukuzawa nodded and did as you asked, slightly moving to the right.

“Okay stop! Keep steady…”, you spoke softly as your hands started moving forward towards the cat.

“Here kitty kitty, I won’t hurt you…let’s get you down.”, you said with a reassuring tone as you slowly reached for the cat.

“Be careful, don’t agitate it or make yourself seem like a threat.”, Fukuzawa said with his usual calm tone as he looked up at you; his hands firmly held your thighs, keeping you steady.

“Yeah yeah I know! I’m not going to agitate it, right little kitty-YAOWW!!”, a yelp left your lips as the cat swiped its claws, scratching you with a hiss.

In the midst of the attack, you lost your balance as your body squirmed atop of Fukuzawas shoulders, causing him to lose his footing as you both fell down.

You opened your eyes with a soft groan, “Ow…my head…Fukuzawa, are you okay?-“, you froze.

It seems when you both fell, you landed on his lap…straddling him as he laid on the ground.

His silver hair was sprawled on the grass as his soft blue eyes gazed up at you.

You were oddly mesmerized and couldn’t seem to look away, that’s until you felt something under you…faintly growing.

Within a split second, you got off his lap and stood up straight, your face was flushed as you bowed and apologized.

“I am so so so sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose I swear, I lost my balance and- it was the cats fault!!”, you rambled on apologies and excuses in a state of embarrassment.

Fukuzawa let out a soft chuckle then cleared his throat, “It is quite alright, no need to apologize.”, he said as he stood up, looking up at the cat.

“I do suppose it wants to stay up there, why not let it be?”, Fukuzawa softly smiled and walked the opposite way.

You felt a bit confused and still flushed, but relieved he didn’t seem to make a big deal of that…incident- you quickly caught up to him.

“I heard a new bakery opened up on this side of Yokohama…”, your conversation faded out as you both continued your lovely stroll.

Even though that incident was a bit lewd, you both decided to just forget about it and not let it come between your friendship…although- part of you still wonders if he liked it, considering how excited he got with just a small touch…

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I had huge writers block in coming up with scenarios since I didn’t want to just reuse the same old ones.

I wanted each scenario to represent the character well and such.

Thanks to some help from my friend, I was able to come up with these!

Anyways! As always, I hope you all enjoyed these head-cannons, love y’all!<3

Tag list: @wintersoldier-barnes @fyodorisbbg

#bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd fukuzawa #fukuzawa x reader #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #bsd fanfic #bsd #anime

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writersblockiskillingme · 6 months

Text

Peace | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.

Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.

However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.

The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.

District 12.

Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.

He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.

He lost everything. Every hope for the better.

That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.

Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.

He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.

Why did he do it?

Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.

Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.

He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.

Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.

"And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me"

Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.

Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.

Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.

Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.

"No, I could never give you peace"

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.

His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.

The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.

A girl from District 12.

He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.

But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.

Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.

He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.

Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.

Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.

Why am I here? What am I doing?

These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.

The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.

Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.

He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.

As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.

It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.

At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?

But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.

More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.

Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.

Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends

It's like I'm wasting your honor

Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.

He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.

He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.

"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."

Coriolanus ignored him.

He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.

"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."

Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me, Coryo."

He kept his mouth shut after that.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.

His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.

He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.

He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.

Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.

"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.

You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.

Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.

You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.

You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.

He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.

"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.

"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."

This took him a back a little.

"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.

"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."

He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.

But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.

You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.

You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.

That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.

"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."

When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.

You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.

Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.

"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."

"Of course I will Coryo, but-"

"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.

"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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irisintheafterglow · 2 months

Text

but who wants to live forever, babe?

summary: you're too sweet for dabi.

wc: 1.45k

cw/tags: gn!reader but dabi calls them pretty, swearing, brief reference to blood and injury, pet names (doll, baby, pretty), dialogue driven, emotionally constipated touya todoroki

note: this is very shamelessly written because of hozier lol. hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

You were irritating, excessively irritating.

You woke up too early to watch the sunrise and stayed out too late to see constellations. You lingered in flower shops to touch the prettiest blooms and gave the last of your coins to street musicians. You were the first to suggest the tastiest food around and always volunteered to pay for everyone’s meals, no matter how large the group. You were thoughtful, selfless, and frustratingly kind. He wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it if you weren’t the deadliest killer-for-hire in Musutafu’s criminal underground.

“You’re too nice,” Dabi says one night after a period of calm silence following the chaos of him crashing through your window and bleeding all over your floor. You glance at him from your spot on the windowsill, peering carefully over the construction blueprints for the following day’s assignment. He sits up with a groan, his hand grabbing the the spot on his abdomen you’d stitched up a few hours prior. “It’s infuriating.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know,” you deadpan and he scoffs, wincing when pain shoots across his side. “Had it been anyone else who broke into my apartment, I’d have to deal with a fully dead body instead of a semi-dead one.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues, straining his arm to grab the cup of water on the side table. Before he can get a good grip on it, you stand and snatch it from his fingers, holding it enticingly with a hand propped on your hip. “C’mon, doll. Now, you’re just being mean.”

“I’m being nicer than you are,” you counter with an iron grip around the cup. “Calling me infuriating after I just saved your barbecued ass from dying. Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”

“My mom didn’t teach me jack shit,” he reminds you, making another futile swipe for the water that you easily pull away. “What do you want me to do, take it back?” You shake your head with a tired sigh, finally handing him the cup. “I’m not taking it back,” he mumbles as you sit on the edge of the bed. Against his better judgment, he doesn’t immediately flinch away when you reach out to check his bandages, your fingers brushing delicately across his skin.

“I know you aren’t,” you murmur absentmindedly.

“Aren’t you gonna ask why?”

“Why should I? It’s not like you’re going to tell me why you hate me,” you concede and a muscle in his jaw tenses.

“Stop being a brat and just ask.” You resist the urge to jab your pointer finger straight into his stab wound but settle for pulling back your hand from his body, leaving him craving your touch no matter how his logic told him to resist. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, part of him ready to beg you to just stay with him. But, when his palm covers the top of your hand, it sits there awkwardly until he clenches it into a fist and pulls away. He tries another tactic. “Look, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t open your window for every stranger that crawls up your fire escape.”

“But you’re not a stranger, as much as I wish you were one.” You return to your papers at the windowsill and he’s alone in the bed again.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice is almost too quiet for you to hear it break. Almost.

“No,” you admit. “Of course, I don’t mean it.” You were looking at him too softly, too tenderly. Taking him in, stitching him up, and letting him rest while you kept watch was infintely more than what he deserved, especially after banging on your window and immediately passing out when you opened it. “Tell me you don’t mean what you said.”

“I do, though.” You nod and he watches your walls go up in real-time, closing yourself up so his words, good or bad, can’t get through. A million thoughts of panic race through every nerve in his body and only one command makes its way through: Fix it.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Your blank expression becomes a frown and you look ready to kick him out onto the streets, or at least reopen his wound. “Let me explain first before you beat the shit out of me.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

“I think you’re too good for me,” he declares simply. He can’t see his truth make your heart stutter. “I think you’re too good for this life in general, and I think you should get out of it.” You scoff humorlessly, rolling your eyes to the side.

“Because you hate me?”

“Because I don’t,” he corrects. You dare to meet his eye and feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes are shining bluer than you’d ever seen them before, the scarce moonlight leaking through your window catching in his eyes just right. They’re scorching, hotter and more intense than anything his Quirk could create. “I should, but by some cruel twist of Fate, there are no words for how desperate I feel when I’m not with you, however much I despise that feeling.” In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t be able to waterboard this information out of him; yet here he was, bitterly lovesick and scowling as he told you that he’d rather burn alive than hate you. You fail to stifle a laugh and his scowl deepens. “You laughing at me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you confess, standing to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead. It’s scathing hot and you suddenly notice the shivers he was trying to conceal. “You must be delirious if you’re admitting this all out loud, and you’re probably going to start burning up if you continue talking.”

“I’m not delirious,” he grumbles. “And it’s normal for me to get like this when I… overdo it on missions.” Your mouth opens in understanding and he lets you touch his forehead once more to confirm the fever. “I figured you’d know this by now after all the times you’ve had to fix me.”

“Forgive me for thinking that you were becoming ill because you were forced to say one nice thing about me,” you say with a smirk, grabbing a small towel and heading to the bathroom. His voice calls after you while you turn on the cold water.

“There you go again with your stupid sweet-talking sarcasm. You can at least acknowledge what I just confessed to you.” You chuckle again and re-approach him at the bed, draping the wet towel over his forehead and gently pushing him back onto the pillow. “You’re doing it again.” You make a split-second decision to mess with him, just for the hell of it.

“Doing what, baby?” The petname disarms him and he blinks at you once, then twice before regaining consciousness.

“Being too sweet for me,” he manages to force out and you let yourself smile at his obvious blush. You flip over the cloth to the cooler side and he sighs, closing his eyes in contentment. “You don’t do this with everyone, do you?”

“No, Touya,” you answer patiently and something in his chest tightens at the use of his true name. He’d forgotten he told you his true identity, most likely a result of a circumstance similar to the one you were in where he was too tired and weak to think clearly. “You are the only one I will take care of and allow to barge through my window at three in the morning. Not because I’m ‘too sweet,’ like you say, but because I care about you. Got it?”

“Mmm. Yeah,” he rasps. “Thanks, doll. You mind getting in here with me? I’ll sleep better if–”

“You don’t even need to ask,” you finish, slipping under the covers and settling against his chest. “Just stop being an asshole for a second.”

“Hey, careful on the–”

“I’m aware of your wound, stupid,” you interject. “I’m the one who fixed it, remember?”

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, his lips brushing the top of your forehead. The tension in his body gradually dissipates the longer your skin is against his. “Can we sleep now?”

“If you shut up for long enough, yeah,” you joke and he lightly pinches your side.

“I finally get in bed with you and you’re not so sweet anymore.” You snort against his chest. “What happened?”

“I think we both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, please shut up and sleep.”

“As you wish, pretty.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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melzula · 2 months

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hi!! can i request a sokka x airbender! reader who is aang's older sister? the fic would be them relaxing in sokka's tent cuddling, with sokka tracing reader's arrows while they just talk

a/n: sokka does not get enough appreciation on this blog so i love when i get requests for him! hope you enjoy <3

summary: you enjoy a peaceful night in sokka’s tent

The sensation of his fingers running carefully along the blue lines on your arms causes your skin to break out in goose bumps. His touch is comforting, careful, and delicate. Sokka treats you with the upmost care and respect, and you wish for nothing but to stay here in his arms forever.

“Did they hurt?” He asks you gently so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere in the tent. The night is quiet as your group rests for the day with the crickets chirping and the wind softly whistling through the leaves of the trees. It’s so calm you almost forget that your days away from the end of the war.

“It was so long ago, I can’t really remember,” you note thoughtfully as you watch him take your hand in his own and carefully press his lips to the arrow. “I don’t think it did. All I can recall is feeling so happy to finally have earned my tattoos.”

“They suit you,” Sokka compliments with a smile as he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I remember you saying otherwise when we first met,” you note with a playful grin only for him to tense up.

“Well that was before I got to know you!” He says defensively, frowning at your teasing laughter. “Now I know how cool and pretty you are.”

“I’m cool and pretty?” You repeat with a fond smile.

“The coolest and the prettiest,” he states matter of factly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile and wrap your arms tightly around his torso as you shut your eyes and let out a peaceful exhale.

“You have a way with words, Sokka,” you utter softly, the sleepiness clear in your tone. He pulls the blankets higher over your figure and resumes the trailing of his fingers up and down your tattoos, following the line that travels along your spine.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, and when he hears the sound of your even breathing he determines it’s okay for him to follow suit and do the same.

The night is peaceful in Sokka’s tent, and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

#melzula writes #request #sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #blurb

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janaispunk · 14 days

Text

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you.

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him.

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it.

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back.

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in.

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly.

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down.

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice.

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play.

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last.

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before.

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV.

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face.

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel.

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest.

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside.

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it.

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second.

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager.

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore.

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?”

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body.

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like.

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago.

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs.

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips.

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features.

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat.

“Yeah no, I– just a second.”

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright.

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what.

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of.

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip.

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed.

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you.

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books.

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to.

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves.

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: safe and sound

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dreamingofbucky · 1 year

Text

IS IT TOO LATE?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: He casted you back to your universe. But now he's back and you don't know why. you thought he hated you for the longest time. But that's furthest from the truth.

tags/content warnings: very much angst. heart strings will be pulled at. consensual smut. p in v. love confessions. soft!miguel. fangs are used for pleasure. begging. size kink. praise, like tons of it. mig and reader healing themselves together.

Word Count: 4.2k (whoops)

author’s note: not beta read. mild midnight miguel thots. more angst though with a very happy ending. idk i was in my feelings lol

You could sense him close to you. You always did, even despite your spider senses.

It was like he’s infected himself into you even years later, unable to get him out of your system.

You were in your kitchen, putting away some dishes when you got the feeling of him being near. It was like a prickle at your neck that grew and grew until every hair on your body rose. You whipped your head around the kitchen and narrowed your eyes to find him. You couldn’t though, he was always good at hiding himself.

“Miguel?” Your voice drifted throughout your apartment. It fell flat though and a sigh wringed out of your throat once you realized he wasn’t there anymore.

But then your spine stiffened to its own accord and you whipped your head this time toward the hallway. You grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands before you made your way. You weren’t on guard, but you kept the towel on your shoulder just in case. Your spider strength would probably work just fine, but you didn’t know what he’d want.

“Miguel? I know you’re here, somewhere,” you called out again with more tenacity in your voice.

There was a creak in the living room and you increased your pace until you were at the entrance, flicking on the light that flooded the room. He wasn’t hiding. He was in the corner, staring at a photo on top of your fireplace.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, fingers reaching for the towel on your shoulder.

His broad shoulders slumped for a moment before he finally turned. He was in his blue and red suit, the one you knew very well. He looked better than the last time you saw him. His face though, was contorted in an expression you couldn’t read.

“I–uh, I’m not sure why I came,” he finally mumbles.

You take a step forward and tread lightly. It’s been four years, so you really didn’t know why he came. This was his decision anyway, to leave you and keep you at a distance.

“It’s been years,” you remind him. He finally turns completely and his brown eyes gleam red a little and then fade back to the rich color you once loved.

The man you once swore you loved forever, until he didn’t. Your heart tugged at the memories of what you and Miguel had. Attempting to push those thoughts away to keep yourself from spiraling like before, you clear your throat.

He finally replies. “I had to see you.”

No reason. Nothing else. Just those five words.

You take another step forward and he does too.

“You can’t just come here without an explanation,” you pushed. Your irritation was starting to increase and your patience was starting to thin for your ex.

Miguel is quiet as he stays grounded. But your senses heightened when he lifted his hand and turned his wrist toward you. Before you could react in time, a bright orangish red web shot out of his wrist and latched onto your chest. You grunt as he pulls you into him, closing the distance. You grab the string of the web and pull it off your shirt, but it's stuck.

“Miguel,” you bite. A smile curls at his lips before a talon comes out of his pointer finger and he snips the web.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

“You’re here, because?” You press again. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you were hoping he’d tell you what he needed you for.

“Spider Society misses you.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sure they do,” you quip.

It wasn’t your choice to leave them. To go back to your universe and live out your days. It was Miguel who pushed you to this point.

You even got engaged two years ago to who you thought you could live the rest of your days with. And then things took a turn. Things didn’t work out. He felt like you were stunted by him in this universe. Although you still did your best to be the Spider-Woman your universe needed, it wasn’t enough.

It was like the action of Miguel casting you out back to your universe made you lose your spark. Made you less of who you were meant to be.

You hate him for it. Well, you did the first year before you started to make a life for yourself here. It didn’t work out, obviously.

The thing was, you never really understood why Miguel did what he did. It was so quick, so sudden, casting you out. You thought you were doing well in Spider Society. You made friends, you aced missions. So what did you do wrong? You even loved him to your best ability.

Was it because you couldn’t put universes first before anyone else in your life? Miguel was so bent up on the idea that sacrifices had to be made when it came to being Spider-Man. Guess that included you.

You were a sacrifice he had to make for a reason you still didn’t know.

“Just wanted to check in, see how you were,” he says in an almost whisper. He drops his gaze to your lips and you gulp. No, you couldn’t feel like this for him. Not anymore.

You lift your hand and press your palm to his chest. He looks at it before his brows furrow. His hand then reaches over and caresses yours. His fingers fiddle with your ring finger.

“Your ring, what happened? Where is it?”

You sigh, attempting to turn on your heel and get away from him but his fingers move to your wrist to keep you there. You knew he’d know about you getting engaged. You got your spider senses alerted whenever he was near the first two years you were gone. You knew he was checking up on you frequently. Until he stopped. He didn’t know the engagement was broken off and you lived alone in that small apartment.

“Miguel, let me go.”

He doesn’t budge, so you press your other palm against his chest for leverage but he doesn’t move an inch. Your emotions are getting heightened from it all and you can feel tears start to spring into your eyes. You feel pathetic.

“What happened?” He repeats, his eyes turning soft and curious.

“Nothing happened. You happy?”

“No–” he shakes his head. “Tell me.”

You sigh, not wanting to fight with him. You had years of it when he started becoming too focused on stopping Spider people from disrupting their canon events. Those fights ended up pushing you both to a point that couldn’t be turned back around.

“Miguel, I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day. It’s late.”

“Dime qué pasó,” he almost pleads.

Well, if it made him let you go then you had no other choice. You took a deep breath and stared at him. You needed him to know what he did and how it resulted with you no longer having an engagement ring.

“He left me, Miguel. Does that make you happy? He saw how much I couldn’t handle being so far away from my people. From my friends. From you. He saw how it ruined my life being stuck here. I tried so hard to fake it until I was happy, but he saw through it all. He loved me so much that he let me go. Unlike someone who casted me out–”

“I didn’t cast you out because I didn't love you,” he interrupts with a growl. His face leans closer and your core flutters.

Fuck, your body could still react to him like no time has passed.

“We were young,” you argue. “That wasn’t love, the longer I had time apart to contemplate it. We were simply infatuated, but that wasn’t love.”

“It was for me, sabes esto.”

“No, it wasn’t Miguel,” you bite.

Miguel is silent, dropping his hand. You take a step back, a deep breath leaving your lips. His own shoulders move softly with his breathing. Some of the strands of hair at the top of his head fall over his temple and forehead. You want to so desperately lift a hand and brush them back in place. But that's not something you can do anymore.

You take another step back, finding yourself sitting on your couch. You placed your elbows on your knees and took a deep breath. You heard his footsteps follow and he knelt down, placing a finger under your chin and lifted you enough to see him. To look at his eyes that are yearning for you to speak to him.

“Mira, I lied. They didn’t miss you. I did. I stopped checking in on you to give you space. To move on.”

You scoff. “You can see how well that worked out.” You lift your naked ring finger to make a point.

“I needed to see you one last time.”

This brought you to straighten your spine and look at him with widened eyes. “Last time?”

He nods.

“What do you mean, Miguel?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not going to check in on you ever again. You won’t be bothered by me. I’m taking some space from Spider Society as well. They’re better off anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. He was going to demote himself from the society he created for us? One of the best places you’ve been able to call home for years. You missed it dearly, you couldn’t deny that.

“You can’t just leave them. They need you.”

Miguel’s eyes cast down and this time it’s you bringing a hand under his chin and lifting enough for him to look at you. You scoot a little closer to him where your knees brush. A fire burns in your belly.

“They don’t. I hurt people. I hurt you. I need space and time before I can come back and delegate again. I took things too far.”

“So you’d rather disappear than try to fix things? Did you ever plan to allow me back to Spider Society?”

He shakes his head. “I thought you’d be content here with him. You seemed so happy.”

You laugh. “That wasn’t happy, Miguel. That was coping.”

His thick brows furrow. “No, you were happy.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself? Are you really trying to control the truth? I wasn’t happy. I thought I could play along with this life to deal with everything. I was in survival mode. It was purely a facade. Imagine being introduced to a safe haven and then being stripped of all access to it and its people. That’s what happened to me. I had no choice but to try to make a life for myself here.”

Miguel is quiet for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His forehead wrinkles as he thinks deeply.

“This would be easier if I hated you.” He finally mutters.

Now you’re the one raising a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Call this an atonement,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, but I’m not sure bringing you back would fix things. What happened can’t be undone.”

“I never asked for you to fix it. I’ve learned how to make this my home. It was a home before I got my Spider abilities and it could be my home after.”

“But you’re not happy. You just said so yourself,” he counters.

You huff out a breath, exhausted at all of this back and forth. Why was he really here? If he wanted to see you one last time he could’ve done that without making himself known. He could’ve creeped in the shadows to do it.

“What do you want?” The words are sharp and roll off your tongue like venom. His hands raise and rest on your knees. He’s still kneeling and he scoots closer. A hand travels up your thigh and you suck in a breath.

“One last time,” he repeats so softly you almost miss it.

“We already had our one last time,” you say quietly. You remember that last time you felt him near you. That was when you truly thought that was the last time you’d feel him in your universe.

“No, bebita,” he responds gruffly. “I need you one last time.”

His words aren’t registering in your brain.

“You made it very clear you didn’t need me.”

“Will you let me finish?” His eyes connect with yours and your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“Finish then,” you push.

“It’s easier to hate you because then I could move on. I never did, bebita.” The nickname rolls off his tongue in a way that makes your core flutter and you clench your thighs.

“I–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Casting you out was the worst thing I did. I couldn’t take it back, my pride wouldn’t let me. I loved you so much, but I couldn’t say it. It was always on the tip of my tongue. You were it for me, bebita. It crushed me even more to see you making a life for yourself here. Finding a partner to be with, that was the worst of it. It took me months to deal with that one. But I couldn’t risk losing you to the things we did for the universes we saved. Pushing you away was the hardest thing to do, but the safest. If I didn’t have you to sacrifice in life or death situations, then that's what I had to do. I couldn’t lose you in those ways, I just couldn’t.”

His confession brings tears to your eyes and you wrap your hands around his neck. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. You take a deep breath and he does too. Soon, your breathing becomes sync with his.

“You hurt me,” was all you could say.

“I know, bebita, I know. I’m so sorry. I loved you–I love you so much. It felt like the only way I wouldn’t lose you.”

“But you ended up losing me anyway in the process,” you remind him. He nods.

“I lost you anyway. Please forgive me. Or did I come at the wrong time where that’s not possible? Is it too late?”

You contemplate it for a moment. You hurt for so long with his decision, but now you know why. He did it because he loved you so much. It reminded you of your ex-fiance. He broke things off because he loved you and wanted you to find your true happiness. He knew it wasn’t with him as much as he wanted it to be.

Funny how it’s the same concept with Miguel, but not quite. Miguel’s way was harsher and broke you. But he’s here now apologizing and on his knees.

All the feelings of your life with Miguel come back surfacing. The good and the bad. But he was the best thing in your life.

“And what would we do after this? Would you just leave and never see me again? After everything that’s been said?”

He grabs your cheeks and pushes you back a little. His face is pained as he thinks of a response. He leans in, kissing your forehead before kissing your nose and then your cheeks. “I don’t know anymore. Lyla asked me the same thing.”

You smiled softly. “Lyla… I missed her.”

Miguel smiled as well, tears in his eyes. “She misses you everyday. She might be the reason why I came tonight.”

“I’m glad, then,” you say. This brings another smile to his face and your heart warms. Your whole body warms.

“Miguel,” you whisper. He leans in again, pressing his lips to your nose. You inhale his scent for a moment.

“I can’t repair what’s been done.”

“You can’t,” you concede. “But we can take it day by day.”

“Really?” He says with a little happier tone.

You nod. “But you can’t do that again. Don’t push me away. Don’t make me think you hate me. That I was the worst thing in your life.”

A sob pulls through you and tears cascade down your cheeks. Miguel is quick to brush them away with his thumbs. He finally brushes his lips against yours and you stiffen at the movement.

“Can I?” He asks softly.

Instead of answering, you lean in to close the distance. His lips were soft and the memories of kissing him all over filled your senses. Your body still craved him, you just pushed those feelings as down as you could.

He continues to kiss with passion, like a man starved. His tongue presses against your teeth and you part your mouth, allowing him inside. He groans a little at the feeling and a moan escapes your own lips.

“Let me make it up to you, por favor,” he asks, moving his hands to your thighs and running them up until they find your hips. You hitch your breath at the feeling and you nod.

“It won’t make up for all these years, but you can try,” you say with a little spite and a little tease. Something in you wanted him to work for it. You couldn’t just forgive this easily, he had to know how much you hurt all this time.

“I’ll live the rest of my days making it up to you then, bebita,” he kisses you once more before moving his hands from your hips to your backside. He pulls you hard closer to him before you’re straddling your hips. You squeal from the sudden movement and then he rises. He starts to walk as you continue to kiss, as if he mesmerized the layout of your apartment from his check-ins. This brought another flutter to your core and you needed him in more ways than one.

He enters your bedroom and plops you on the bed softly. You shift yourself up to the pillows and he climbs the bed alongside you. Your hands come up to his hair, making their home in his strands as he continues to attack you with kisses. He moves his lips to your neck and you moan loudly, bucking your hips up. He groans from the sounds.

“Bite me,” you plead through breaths.

“Estás seguro?” he asks, lifting his lips from your neck for a brief second. You push his head back down to your bare skin and nod.

“Yes, please, Mig. Bite me like you used to. Fuck me like you used to. Make me whole again,” you plead. You can’t help the tears that come back to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. He doesn’t notice though, which you’re grateful for.

He obliges though, kissing your neck and then you feel something piercing you. His fangs sink into your skin and it feels wet instantly. You moan through it, leaning down to bite his own neck.

“F-fuck,” he moans once his fangs pull out. He lifts his head to look at you and it’s like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. His eyes light up and then turn into a feral thing you were so used to in the past.

Miguel knew how to be gentle with you when he could, but you always noticed the way his eyes would turn red with a primal need to love you until you were thrashing and screaming his name, clenching around him.

You needed him to go that far. You wanted him to.

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper finally.

His eyes search yours before he nods and snakes his hand under your hair and wraps his fingers around the strands until he can pull your neck the other way. He leans in and you feel that pain again as he sinks his fangs into the other side of your neck. Your hips buck up again and you gasp.

“Smell so good, taste so good,” he murmurs. His lips travel lower, kissing your collarbone. He helps you out of your mundane clothes before you’re lying naked in front of him. With a press of his watch on his wrist, his suit pixelates into nothing until he’s there naked over you. You forgot for a moment his suit does that.

“Please, Mig,” you say in deep breaths as you feel his erection pressing against your hip. You reach down blindly, feeling for his cock and then caressing it in up and down motions. He groans through this and curses under his breath, jutting his hips further into your hand.

“Need you,” he pleads.

“You have me,” you assure him.

He lifts himself on his knees which causes your hands to fall from his cock. He then begins to stroke himself and you spread your legs around him. His eyes glance down at your core and your cheeks heat.

“So fucking pretty and wet already for me, bebita. Just like I knew you’d be.”

You just nod as you stay transfixed on him, rubbing his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance. You didn’t care for him to prep you, you needed him now.

“It’s going to hurt, tell me to stop if you–”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. You made a point by reaching down and grabbing his wrist around his cock and aligning yourself with his tip. You pressed his tip against your fold and you both gasped. You shut your eyes briefly at the wonderful sensation.

He always fucked you so well, that was something you missed. And now he was here, doing just that.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” he grunts as he presses himself into you, inch by inch.

The pain soared throughout your body with each inch, but you didn’t care. You finally had him again and your cunt clenched around him. He moaned at the movements, but you couldn’t help yourself.

When he finally pressed into you all the way, you both took deep breaths. He leaned in, pressing his palms into the mattress to support himself. He shifted a little, moving inside you and you whined.

“So big,” you gasped.

“You can take it, bebita,” he cooed. “You always did so good for me, you can do it again. Okay?”

You nod, biting your lip as he moved his hips to slowly pull out of you and then he slammed back in, causing you to shift up on the bed from his strength. He curses under his breath again and you whine at the stretch of him. His girth was bigger than you remembered and you swore he was splitting you in half, but you loved it.

“More, more,” you begged and he obliged. He snapped his hips back and forth into you, earning a cry from your lips at each thrust.

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he groans as his hips start to grow sloppy. He was getting closer to his release and you were too.

Your core tightened and your pussy clenched around his cock in a beautiful way.

“So close,” you mumbled through his thrust.

“Come with me, bebita,” he says before leaning down, sinking his fangs into your neck once more. This makes all your sensations come alive and you can’t hold back anymore. Your legs wrap around his waist, causing him to push deeper into you and hitting the best parts.

“I’m going to–” you screamed before you felt everything explode. You saw stars, your body was shaking, and he was holding onto your tightly. He dropped his head into the crevice of your neck and muttered nonsense as he came right after you. Rope after rope of his cum filled you up and you clenched around him even more, milking his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as his hips stuttered and he collapsed over you. “Please don’t do that, not gonna last the night.”

You giggled, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. You both breathed intensely but you were so fucking happy.

“I love you, bebita,” he finally says, lifting himself to look at you. He wipes a strand of hair that was stuck on your forehead. You grab his face and kiss him. He moans deeply and his cock twitches inside you.

You squirm underneath him. “I love you too, Miguel. Always have, always will.”

He kisses you back with more passion. “You mean it?”

You nod and laugh as he tickles your side. You try to squirm away, but it’s hard with his cock still in you. Your pussy flutters around him again and he groans. “Bebita, that will only make me go for another round.”

“I know,” you confess with a smile.

You had years of catching up to do, anyways. You didn’t plan to leave that bed anytime soon.

Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around you before flipping you both over. His back plopped on the bed and you were straddling him above, your head laying on his chest.

“You don’t have to ever forgive me,” he whispers, stroking your bare back. “But I hope you give me the time to make it up to you.”

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. He cranes his neck to look down at you.

“It’s not too late,” you finally answer and those words were all he needed to hear.

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse #spiderman #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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sanakiras · 6 months

Text

TREAT YOU BETTER

PAIRING — lee chan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.7k

SYNOPSIS — your boyfriend of five months has been treating you like hell, and one of your closest friends, lee chan, refuses to let it go on any longer, taking matters into his own hands.

TAGS — college au, best friends to lovers, cheating, explicit sexual content, mutual pining, mentions of reader struggling with low self-esteem, cheesy stuff, yes i did come up with this after accidentally listening to treat you better by shawn mendes, this didn’t turn out as good i hoped it would but oh well!

NOTE — first fic here. he looks so good in the wait m/v so i wanted to write something for him :D my beloved

the slam of the door behind you rings through your ears. you try to wipe your cheeks dry, hoping you don’t look like the tearful mess you are.

your voice feels raw from yelling for the past hour or so. it’s been going like this for the past two months at least twice a week, and you’re exhausted because of it.

as the rain pours, you notice the familiar car driving towards you, bright lights feeling heavy on your eyes. you open the door without hesitation to let yourself sink into the passenger’s seat, taking a few deep breaths, all without looking at the driver.

but the quiet sobs escaping you are enough to give it away.

chan has his one arm leaning on top of the steering wheel, the other gently touching your shoulder to make you look at him, but you refuse.

“i’m fine,” you stutter out, sniffing from the cold, “really.”

of course you’re not fine. both of you are more than aware of the toxicity of the situation. you getting into arguments with your boyfriend several times a week, resulting in you calling chan and staying over at his apartment for a night, only to hear you make it up to the guy the next day when you weren’t even in the wrong to begin with.

“we have a different definition of that, then.”

“it was just an argument. we’ll work it out in a couple hours.”

“it’s not normal.” he says, trying to get it through your thick skull without raising his voice. “it’s not normal, baby.”

you sniff, trying to somehow get rid of the pain beating against your forehead. “he can be so mean, and then… then he’s so sweet again.”

chan wants to rip his hair out of his head. five fucking months of this have passed at this point, and he doesn’t know how much more of it he can take. he’s not sure how to handle the situation the right way, either.

he’s been in love with you for years. years. since sophomore year in high school. it was never his intention to fall in love with you, nor did he think he would, but he did, and god did he fall hard. embarrassingly hard.

nevertheless, he was always too afraid to make a move. too afraid that you’d reject him and he’d be out of your life forever like he was never there in the first place.

but he’s grown up now. third year of university, twenty-two years old, longer hair, a leather jacket and a solid bunch of experiences. some great, some he’d rather forget.

and so five months ago, he’d finally mustered the courage. he was finally going to own up to his feelings and tell you the truth.

only for you to excitedly come up to him, telling him you’re seeing this guy. and it made his heart sink in his chest, but he pushed his feelings to the side for your happiness.

or so he tried.

your boyfriend treats you like shit. he was sweet in the beginning — they always are.

then the cracks in the façade started to show.

it’s not that you don’t see it. you do — but it’s difficult to leave when someone knows just how to keep you where they want you. every time you tell yourself you’re gonna break up with him, he sweet-talks you and says things can be fixed, and that going through a rough patch is normal.

but chan knows better.

he just needs you to know better as well.

it breaks his heart to see his favorite person let herself get hurt like this. he becomes a little more torn with every sob leaving your body, every tear spilling from your eyes.

he gently puts the buds of his fingertips on your chin and jaw, slowly turning your face to him so he can look you in the eye.

the tears are still quietly running down your cheeks, your face numb, now devoid of any emotion, ashamed to have him see you in this state.

“you’re killing yourself like this.” he whispers, voice laced with concern. “he’ll never make you happy.”

you sniff from your breakdown. “maybe it’s me. maybe i just need to stop giving him such a hard time—”

“don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“please, chan, just… just go and get me somewhere else. all i need is some breathing space — please.” you beg him.

he wants to scream, wants to tell you to break up with him for good, wants to walk into that damn house and do it himself — but he can’t.

instead, he obliges, driving you to his place.

his cozy one-person apartment feels like the best place in the world to you — the one place where you can get away from everything else.

you watch chan as he locks the door behind him, then leaning against it for a moment as he watches you sit on the armrest of the soft chair. “you okay? want some tea?”

the corners of your lips curl up at the suggestion. he knows you awfully well. “that’d be great.”

his lashes flutter before he nods, kicking his shoes off by the door.

once he’s busy in the kitchen, you bite your lip as you recall the way he softly talked to you in the car, eyes trailing past the curves of his arms and the sharpness of his jawline.

he’s dated more than you have. not much in high school, but definitely during the past three years he’s spent at college. though it doesn’t surprise you. he has such warmth to him, with the beautifully infectious sound of his laughter, that big smile and some of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

it wasn’t until recently you began to see him in a different light. whenever you saw him with a new girl, arm around her waist or over her shoulders, you secretly imagined yourself next to him more than once. you can’t believe you didn’t take notice of how handsome he was before.

but you’re too much of a coward to tread over that line of friendship, too much of a coward to see if maybe, just maybe, your feelings are requited.

“wanna stay here for a while?” he asks, hoping you’ll at least spend the night here before you go back to your boyfriend, as you’ve done countless times before.

“yeah. don’t feel like going back yet.” you smile, trying to somewhat make light of the situation.

“then don’t.”

you sigh at his response. “it’s not that easy.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t wanna throw something away the second things get hard.”

“there’s a difference between hard and unbearable. your case is the latter.”

feeling backed into a corner, even though he hardly means to do so, you turn the topic on him. “you’ve had some rough experiences with past girlfriends too and you stuck around.”

god. if only you knew he ended up leaving them because he never enjoyed being with them as much as he enjoyed being with you. “you’d be surprised.” he mutters under his breath, pouring two cups of tea, making yours exactly as he knows you like.

when you stay quiet, he tries to think of a way to get it through your head that you need to break up with your resident ass of a boyfriend.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“what’s it going to take for you to leave him?”

the question makes you look up before using a tone that almost sounds like you’re scolding him. “chan.”

“i’m serious. he’s treating you like shit. you call me crying every week.”

“it’s just—”

“no, it’s not ‘just a tough time’. you know it isn’t.” he interrupts, jaw clenched tight but voice controlled. he will not yell at you like that piece of trash does. “he’s a controlling, manipulative asshole. it’s not gonna get better. if anything, he’ll just treat you worse in the future.”

“yeah, well, not all of us have people lined up.”

the words have left your mouth before you can comprehend it, leaving you to lower your head in regret. not that it’s any less true. to you, anyway.

“what, and i do?”

“don’t you?”

he’s not sure what baffles him more — you thinking that he’s got girls lined up to date him or you thinking that you don’t have anyone else out there that would be willing to date you.

“what’s this really about?” he sits down on the empty coffee table, facing you directly. “what does my dating life have to do with yours?”

“nothing — it doesn’t. i never said it did.”

“then why the comment about me having people lined up? which i don’t, by the way.”

the answer sits at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it without looking away from him. “maybe not. but at least you won’t end up alone. i can’t say the same for myself.”

and there it is. the sole reason you’re still with the guy. your crippling fear of ending up alone, your heavy insecurity that makes you believe no one could possibly want you.

the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt — but he’d rather have you suffer through your first heartbreak than end up with someone who walks all over you like a doormat.

“please don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but if you think that low of yourself, you’re a little stupid.”

the comment makes you snort. “well, it’s certainly fitting.”

he wipes some of your half-dried tears away, his one hand remaining to cup your cheek, an alarmingly intimate gesture.

“aside from the fact that there’s nothing wrong or shameful about ending up alone... i need you to know that you’re worth it. you’re gorgeous and intelligent and—” he halts for a moment, in a way confessing his love for you, not caring how cheesy it sounds, “—you deserve everything you want. ‘cause you’re one in a million.”

fuck, has he always looked at you that lovingly?

his words catch you off-guard for a moment before you press your lips together. “as much as i think it’s sweet of you to say those things, you’re only saying them ‘cause you’re my friend.” you interrupt him, having made up your mind.

after which chan shakes his head, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “i’m saying it because it’s true. any guy would be lucky to have you in his life.”

“i don’t think ‘lucky’ is the term my boyfriend would use.”

“yeah, ‘cause he’s a fucking dick.” he immediately comments, adding the next part with a softer tone. “if you were with me, i sure as shit wouldn’t be acting like that.”

that last sentence catches your attention, and chan realizes what he just said, suddenly very aware he’s treading on thin ice now.

but it had to come out one way or another.

though you seem to be going along with his words, not showing any signs of being uncomfortable with it. “and who’s to say you wouldn’t break my heart?”

he sees the intrigue on your face and decides to lean in closer. “if i broke your heart, i’d be breaking mine as well.”

“i’m not convinced.” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, and chan feels his heartbeat quicken.

every rational thought going through his mind is thrown out of the window the moment he catches you staring at his lips. it’s enough for him to put his hand on your lower cheek and smash his lips against yours.

he kisses you like he always imagined he would. perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but he’s waited too long for this moment to care.

and you’re kissing him back.

you both get hot from adrenaline and arousal. his hands roam down your hips, but when you start pulling on the collar of his jacket, he finally has it in him to break the kiss.

“are you sure you want this? i don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“i’ve wanted this for so long, chan. take it off, please.”

maybe he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. you’re underneath him, lips swollen, gazing at him like he’s your whole world and more.

he leans down again to pick you up, ensuring you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist so he can carry you to his bedroom.

once he lays you down on the soft bed, you watch him take off his jacket and throw his shirt over his head, leaving him with his chest bare, elastic waistband of his underwear visible.

he’s a dancer in his spare time, but you know he’s been hitting the gym recently as well, and it’s paying off, noticing his bigger biceps and toned abs.

then he chuckles from the way you’re observing him, and that smile — that beautifully big smile is what you fell in love with.

one of many things, really.

you remove your basic long-sleeved shirt, exposing your skin before him, enjoying the way he’s looking at the black bra you’re wearing underneath.

you’re seated at the edge of the bed, at eye-level with his chest, which you kiss softly.

he follows your actions like a hawk, unable to keep his eyes off you. he proceeds to move your hair behind your shoulder, his right hand finding your jaw when he kisses you again, lips trailing down to your neck and collarbone.

his touches are slow and sensual. at the end of the day, it’s your first time together, and you both notice the pressure and tension that comes with it.

you’re both aching to touch each other more already, but it feels so much better like this.

he gently pushes you to lay on your back, hovering over you to kiss down your chest and stomach, smoothly pulling down your skirt before his fingers hook onto the fabric of your lace underwear.

“what’d you want me to do, pretty girl?” he asks while getting rid of your panties, looking you in the eye as he does it.

the nickname makes you shiver. “you can do anything you wanna do.”

“wanna eat you out. bet i’m better at it than that motherfucker.”

“not hard to beat when he never does it at all.” you mumble to yourself, but he hears it.

“are you kidding? has he ever even made you cum?”

you just give him a deadpan stare that has a hint of embarrassment to it, which is enough for him to know the answer.

just being aware of how bad that fucker treats you makes him want to prove to you that he can make you feel so, so much better. and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do.

he wastes no time, spreading your legs so his tongue can get to work. you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on you, biting your lower lip to not squeal already from sensitivity.

“no. none of that. i wanna be able to hear every sound you make.” he says after taking your hand away from your mouth. “you can pull on my hair if you like.”

“do you like that?”

“yeah, i enjoy a bit of pain.”

that makes you giggle a bit. “you masochist.”

to which he responds with a gentle pinch to your skin. “keep it in mind for next time, baby.”

fuck — you definitely will.

your hands run through his soft black hair. you’ve locked your legs behind his head, hips bucking up a little every time he hits a spot that feels good, his warm breath and wetness of his mouth on your pussy turning you on like crazy.

chan is pretty sure he’s descending into heaven when he hears you moan his name for the first time. he doesn’t know how many times he’s fucked his fist imagining that sound.

so he adds a finger to the warm and wet mess between your legs, sliding in easily, biting his own lip as he watches your reaction to it. you’ve got your head thrown back, one hand fisting the sheets, the other still holding his locks.

then he moves to a second, and not much later he’s got three of his fingers pumping in and out of you, arching them a little to find the right spot, rubbing and sucking on your clit.

“does that feel good?” he asks, just a bit out of breath, which is nothing compared to the writhing mess that’s you. he keeps messing with the pace, edging you a little every time, making you go crazy.

“please, channie, please let me cum—”

“i will if you answer me, baby.”

you whine, nodding at him desperately. “feels s’good, so fucking good.”

“want me to go faster?”

“please. god—need you inside me so bad.”

even he can resist so much. you’re so good for him, so he increases the pace of his fingers, relishing in the way you start squirming underneath him, trying to push him away and pull him closer all the same.

then you pull on his hair almost violently, making him moan against your pussy as you hit your first climax in a long time.

and he doesn’t stop yet — only once he sees you’ve regained focus does he pull his fingers out of you, sucking on them to savor the taste right before kissing you again, your trembling body aching for him.

he only breaks the kiss to reach for the drawer in his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of it, getting off of you to push off the last pieces of clothing still on him. the realization of the fact that your best friend is about to fuck you after god knows how long finally begins to dawn on you, and it makes your heart beat that much harder.

once he’s slipped the condom on, you move your hands to his neck and shoulders, biting your lip when you feel him push your legs behind his waist.

you gasp when he bottoms out of you for the first time. his head is buried in the crook of your neck as he finds his rhythm, sucking at your sensitive skin, not giving a damn whether he leaves marks on someone that’s technically not even his.

yet.

“do you remember that time we went to senior prom together?” he asks breathily, not slowing down even a little bit. “you were wearing that pretty blue dress. god, i wanted to take you home that night more than anything.”

you remember that. it was just before you two graduated high school together — he looked so dashing in his suit. you’d even imagined kissing him underneath the basketball bleachers like some cliche rom-com.

“so why didn’t you?”

“was too much of a pussy to do it.”

you bring yourself to chuckle inbetween your moans. “that’s a shame. i would’ve let you.”

just knowing that his feelings are reciprocated turns him on. he lifts his head up a little, kissing the front of your neck, your jaw, your cheeks — everything, only halting for a moment when he fucks you just a little faster, watching the way your eyes roll back from pleasure.

your hands run over his strong back as he pushes in and out of you at a steady pace, your lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’re biting it.

he hisses and relishes in the burning feeling of your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“chan—god, harder, please—”

“i know, baby, i know, i got you.” he breathes out, changing up the position by hooking your legs over his shoulders.

it hits the exact right spot when he fucks you again, harder and deeper this time, your hands desperately clinging onto his skin, teeth sinking into your lower lip until they're nearly drawing blood.

beads of sweat roll down his muscular back. he feels you’re getting closer to hitting that release, so he moves one hand down to rub your clit again, aching to see you fall apart underneath him.

“fuck, ’s too much, channie—” you whine, throwing your head back in the pillow for a moment.

but he shakes his head, continuing, knowing you’re close. “you can do it, pretty girl. cum for me again. i wanna feel it.”

and he discovers that begging you works wonders, because it’s enough for you to come undone, clamping on his dick, making it feel so tight that he spills his own release into the condom mere seconds after.

with a layer of sweat on your foreheads, he feels how sensitive you are when he pulls out. he throws the condom in the trashcan, turning his face back to yours and kisses your lips more softly this time.

“how do you feel?”

“a little worn out.” you sigh, proceeding to show a smile. “but better.”

“good. how do you feel about taking a bath?”

“sounds nice.”

chan can’t help himself and leans in to kiss you again. he’s already getting awfully used to this, but one issue remains. “i wanna be with you. i meant everything i said tonight.”

the sentiment warms your heart. he’s always had that effect on you. “i know. i wanna be with you, too.”

he nods, happy with your words. “you go on ahead to the bathroom. i’ll clean things up here.”

“okay.” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his cheek before leaving the bedroom, feeling utterly lovesick.

he shares your feelings — it’s like he’s reliving that exciting feeling of seeing you the first few days after he realized he was in love with you.

there’s something that pulls him out of it, though. a certain vibrating sound. what is that? he thinks to himself.

and after looking around the room, he discovers it’s a phone receiving a call. your phone, to be exact, sitting in the back pocket of the jeans you discarded earlier.

the screen of your cellphone lights up, and he picks up the device, about to let you know someone’s calling — but his voice gets caught in his throat when he notices it’s the asshole who made you cry in the first place.

scoffing to himself, he taps the red button and declines the call.

thank you for reading. x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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begko · 6 months

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keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys.

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience.

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors.

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!”

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on.

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?”

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie.

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

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starryevermore · 2 months

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the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away.

word count: 1,443

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet.

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside?

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try.

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered.

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then?

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside.

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze.

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased.

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens.

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came.

What was wrong with you?

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them.

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted.

“Why?” you begged.

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless.

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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asumofwords · 9 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Talks of domestic violence, talks of trauma, talks of toxic relationships and infidelity, survivors guilt, victims guilt, manipulation, family issues, smut, creampie, fluff (lol).

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I've had some intense writers block and didn't quite know how to finish this chapter haha, so hopefully I did it some justice finally. Enjoy <3

Chapter 9: Eye of the storm

You didn’t know what to expect after your argument turned ‘talk’, if you could call it that, with Aemond the night before. Nor did you know how to react when you woke that morning and saw, much to your dismay, that the kitchen was empty.

There was no steaming tea waiting for you like there had been usually, nor was there the presence of your brooding roommate. It didn’t help that when you ventured to the kitchen expecting to see your mug and your tea perfectly made for you, that it was not there, and your heart felt a twinge of pain.

You had to reason with yourself that he needed space. Time. And that perhaps he had taken you up on your encouragement to think about his actions before he went to sleep. And if you were really lucky, which you hoped you were with some bitter spite, he may have even stayed awake all evening, staring up at the ceiling the entire night and was now having to catch up on the sleep he hadn’t got.

But that wasn’t the case.

Because Aemond’s door was wide open, and when you opened the dishwasher to check, there you saw a singular mug inside, the tiniest of coffee drips sliding out of the mug and over the rack.

Aemond was awake.

Aemond wasn’t home.

And Aemond had made himself coffee, and not you.

But you questioned yourself if you would have made tea for someone after an argument. Then you remembered, that yes, you had. And yes, you would again.

But Aemond wasn't you.

Had you pushed him too far?

Was bringing up his childhood something you shouldn’t have done?

These thoughts tumbled through your mind as you made your tea and readied yourself for the work day.

The morning went by slowly. When you were ready, you left for work and spent the entire day biting at your lips and fingernails in anxiety at the thought of when you would come home to the nightmare that you had a hand in creating.

Thankfully for you, Larys was off sick, or off site, or whatever Jasper had told you; you had barely been listening. Barely even been present as you skimmed through your emails and went through the motions of your tasks mindlessly, mind on one thing and one thing only.

Him.

When you got home the apartment was empty which you had expected. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though.

Perhaps he went to go stay with one of his friends?

Or maybe he was out on one of his many jogs? Or doing whatever else he did during the day that you were not privy to.

So you settled for your made up alibis, and slid into the kitchen, playing some soft music, though just soft enough in the hopes of being able to hear him come home, and began to cook your dinner.

But by the time you had cooked, and eaten, and bathed, and crawled into bed, it was nearing midnight and still Aemond had not come home.

You laid in your bed, and stared up at the roof for what felt like forever, looking at the ceiling medallion, trying to ease your mind and not have thoughts of the illusive man that was Aemond running amuck in your mind. But no matter what you did, no matter how many videos you watched on your phone, or memes you cracked a smile at, you still could not find rest.

Sighing loudly, you checked the time.

3am.

Fuck.

Thinking that a cup of tea might help you to settle, you threw back your sheets and climbed out of bed, leaving your phone on charge as you moved blindly through your room in the dark, and out to the kitchen.

The lights were off in the apartment, and only the softest of orange glows from an outdoor street lamp came through the bathroom window. The rest of the apartment was bathed in black, barest hints of moonlight streaming in through the kitchen.

Silver hair caught the light of the moon and thus your attention, and you watched as a small red ember grew in size with the inhale of Aemond’s cigarette.

Aemond, it seemed, could not find sleep either.

He stood in the kitchen, just as sleepless as you, black shirt thrown over grey sweats as he leant against the kitchen windowsill, blowing smoke outside with each drag.

His silver tresses of hair glimmered, reflecting the light, as though each strand had been made of moonlight itself.

You watched as his lips pursed to take another drag, tilting his head towards you as and indication that he had noticed your presence. But it wasn't for you. He did not greet you, nor did he turn his head to face you, staying still as he was, looking out into the night.

With soft steps, you made your way over, flicking on the kettle to boil some water, quietly pulling down a mug, then thinking about it for a moment, and reaching for a second, grabbing some chamomile tea bags for the both of you putting them in the cups.

The sound of the kettle was loud in your ears as you waited for it to boil, shifting on your feet awkwardly as you watched Aemond finish his cigarette, twisting the end on the outside of the brickwork, leaving the butt on the sill.

You watched in the corner of your eye, as he rolled another with deft fingers and a precision that you admired secretly.

When the kettle had boiled, you poured the water over the tea bags, picking one up, to hand to him. You averted your eyes, looking down to where his long fingers held the cigarette in his pointer and middle, wordlessly handing him the mug.

It hovered between you for a moment, arm outstretched as Aemond looked at it. Time moved slowly as he did not reach for the tea, and for a moment, your heart sank, disappointment settling in your gut as the weight of the mug became heavier and heavier.

As you were about to pull it back admitting defeat, Aemond reached a slender hand, grasping the boiling hot mug from its sides, which would have no doubt burnt at his palm hotly. He didn’t thank you or nod his head in appreciation, not that you were looking to see, but instead, he placed the mug on the sill, picking up the lighter with the other hand as he moved to light the cigarette between his lips.

You grabbed your mug and leant against the kitchen bench on the opposite side of the window with him, looking out into the darkness, barely registering the buildings more than 10 metres away.

Anything to not look at him.

To not ruin the perfectly calm moment that the two of you had reached in that moment.

Finally in the eye of the storm.

You brought your mug up to your lips, blowing the steam from the top, the smell of chamomile wafting around you. You sipped at the brew, feeling the heat travel down your throat and settle into your stomach warmly.

You refused to speak first.

Or to say anything at all really.

Not wanting to push him again, to ruin the calm that settled between you, to then end up with the both of you, red faced and shaking with anger. You didn’t trust yourself to not explode, nor did you trust his ability to speak to you in a way that wasn’t patronising.

If Aemond wanted to speak, he would speak, and if not, you were content to sit in this silence to at least show that you could listen, would listen, if he so dared to open his mouth.

To show that you were willing to be around him despite his shitty behaviour.

Smoke billowed from his lips, and the cigarette that was held delicately, yet almost even carelessly between two fingers, was shifted out towards you. You looked down at it, for one beat, then two, before placing your mug of tea down to grasp the cigarette from him.

Warmth spread through your arm as your fingertips brushed over his, butterflies erupting in your chest, but you shoved that feeling down quickly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips to inhale. You took a drag, feeling the smoke sink into your lungs before you blew it out quietly, feeling the rush of it go to your head.

“I thought about what you said.” Aemond finally breathed into the night, voice quiet and shy.

Your eyes lifted to look at him. His gaze was still outside as he leant forward on the window, hands clasped together, elbows on the edge of the wood. He fiddled with the signet ring on his pinky, turning it side to side.

Bringing the cigarette up to your lips again you took another drag, letting Aemond have the space to talk, and also using the smoke as a means to force yourself to stay quiet so that he could say what he needed to say, and then you would go to bed.

Yes, that’s what you would do. Hear him out, most likely another shithouse apology, and then go to bed angry but vindicated.

Wordlessly you held out his smoke, watching as he kept his eye lowered as he took it from your hands, mug of tea in the other, palm wrapped around the porcelain which you questioned if he enjoyed the sting, or the grounding of the pain.

Maybe he was punishing himself.

Aemond brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply and then exhaled a breath as he spoke, “And you were right.” Smoke curled under his nose as he inhaled it back inside, “But you were also wrong too.”

You let your eyes roam his side profile, his nose long and sharp, lips pursed as he sucked at his gums, tongue rolling over the front of his teeth, thinking of the words to say next, perhaps thinking of how to apologise to you properly this time.

“I am sorry. For what I said to you.” He apologised, true repentance on his tongue, “It wasn’t right, and you didn’t deserve that. I know you’re just trying to be a good friend to Helaena by doing me a favour, and I know that you’re trying to be a friend to me.” Aemond inhaled slowly, bringing up the cigarette to take another drag, “But like I tried to say, these things don’t come easy to me.”

Despite his apology, there was still his lingering attitude in the way he spoke, the words he had chosen. The way he conducted himself, as though he was angry that he had been called out, or that he had to be a better person to you.

You chewed at your cheek, not wanting to respond just yet, holding out your fingers towards him as he handed you the cigarette.

Another brush of hands.

You held the filter in your fingers, turning the cigarette softly as silence fell over the two of you.

Aemond brushed an uneasy hand through the front of his hair, large hand sliding down his neck as you watched his eyelashes flutter, up, down, but never once looking at you.

As though he couldn’t bare to face you.

He inhaled sharply, bare foot tapping on the tiled floor in irritation, “I know you think you know what happened between me and Alys, but Helaena doesn’t even know the whole of it. I-“ Aemond paused, swallowing thickly, “It’s not been easy these past few months without her, not that it was ever easy.” He sadly scoffed, adjusted his weight on his legs, “But she’s been trying to get back with me, texting, calling, and I don’t- I don’t know… I think it’s finally caught up to me what happened.”

You handed the smoke back, sipping your chamomile tea, enjoying the burn that it gave you, and also the way that it calmed your nerves, giving you something to focus on rather than the way that Aemond seemed to begin to curl in on himself, taking every fibre of your being to not reach out and comfort him.

He chanced a glance at you, and stooped over the window, bent from the hips, his eye line was below yours, and so he had to look up at you through his lashes, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

Aemond brought the smoke to his lips, holding it there for a moment, before he began to speak, fingertips resting over his mouth as he spoke, “It wasn’t always bad, but she was much older,” He shifted again uncomfortably and you mirrored his action, “And I was too young and naive to see the truth of it.”

You hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t expected Aemond to open up to you about Alys, something that had been clearly affecting him as of late.

Aemond sighed in a breath and you watched as he began to turn his signet ring with his thumb again, eye watching to motion carefully, methodically twisting it in sets of three.

Twist, twist, twist. Pause.

“She was one of my tutors at KLU,” Aemond explained, and you felt your stomach drop, "It wasn’t- it started innocently enough. Lessons here and there, but then she- Well I… It felt good to be wanted. Felt good to have something that no-one could take from me. Not Viserys, not my brother, not- But then someone found out, and Alys said that we needed to leave KLU so that we could be together.”

Your lips parted in shock, watching as Aemond shook his head, taking a frustrated drag of the cigarette, ash falling from the end onto the sill which he swiped away with a finger agitatedly, “So I stopped my degree, left KLU, and went to Harrenhal with her. At first it was easy, perfect. I was so in love with her, but then she kept pushing the idea of having kids, of getting married.”

Married.

Kids.

“At first I was excited,” His eye flicked onto you, a sad smile pulling downwards on his lips, “Who doesn’t want to hear from the love of their life that they want to settle down? But then she kept asking about Viserys, and the law firm, and inheritance.” He spat, “And I knew, I knew that she was using me… But I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t. I loved her.”

A twinge of empathy rolled through you.

How could you have been so blind to this?

“So I stayed, and it just got worse.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to say that you were sorry, to comfort him, but Aemond shook his head at you, watching as the words stuck in the back of your throat, “She started seeing other people,” Your mouth went dry, your own understanding of how he must of felt settling in your chest painfully, “And at first she kept it a secret, but then she did it more openly.”

You had the sudden desire to wring his ex’s neck.

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke bitterly, looking down to his hand again where he twisted the ring more agitatedly, twist, twist, twist, pause, “Would taunt me about it. Fuck them in our bed. Would tell me I needed to ‘man up’ if I wanted to stay with her, told me I needed to be better for her, do better.” Aemond sighed, taking the last drag of the smoke, clearing his throat, “We were together for years, and she was all I knew. I didn’t-“

How could she have done this to him?

How could anyone have done anything like this to a person?

It was cruel. Inhumane. Horrible. And suddenly, the way Aemond behaved, his insecurities about Cregan, his jealously and refusal to let you get close began to make more and more sense.

You watched as his adams apple bobbed in his neck, “I didn’t know how to leave. I didn’t want to leave. Because when she was good, she was amazing. She was everything I wanted, everything I thought I deserved. Everything she made me believe I wanted. But when it was bad, it was…” Aemond trailed off, words caught in his throat, emotion beginning to boil over, "We would fight all the time. She would break things, cuss me out, tell me I was pathetic.” He swallowed again, voice quieter, “Hit me… And I was just an idiot in love who stood there and took it.”

Your chest ached painfully and you felt tears pull in your eyes.

Aemond.

You frowned, “You weren’t an idiot,” You said quietly, “You were in an abusive relationship, Aemond.”

The Targaryen blew air sharply through his nose, “I knew it was toxic and yet I stayed. Hoped it would get better. Waited for her to see that I was the only one she needed. That I could be good for her. Be better. I just- I thought we could be happy, like she promised. She was my first- And I-“ The silver haired man cleared his throat to sip at his tea.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to him, tears threatening to spill over, “I am so, so sorry, Aemond. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t want your pity,” He said quietly back, ego wounded, lingering pieces of denial and pain preventing him from being more vulnerable than he was, preventing him from letting anyone to see him as a victim, "I don’t want you apologising to me either. I deserved it.”

Your heart raced in your chest, “You didn’t-“

“-Could you for one second in your life not make excuses for me? I don’t want you to- I don’t- I feel-“ Aemond paused, not sure how to find the words, not sure how to move forward, and so you gave him a different path.

“How did you leave?”

The signet ring tapped loudly against his mug of tea.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

“Mum called, told me Viserys was sick, it looked bad at the time,” You noted how he called his dad by his first name, “I didn’t know how to feel about it. I was… lost. And Alys didn’t even care. Didn’t care that my… father… was sick. Didn’t care that he was dying. I stopped my studies for her, I left everything behind for her. Friends. Family. Everything. And she didn’t even care. She just asked how much I would inherit, asked if I would get the law firm. She- she didn’t- she just-“

Your hand lifted before you could stop it, setting it against his shoulder gently. Aemond’s entire body bristled, as though your touch had sobered him up, and you watched in disappointment as the brick walls began to build behind his eye again.

“That’s horrible. Really, you didn’t deserve any of that. Your partner is supposed to love and support you. Listen to you. Be there for you. I’m sorry that you were so alone.” You empathised, “She sounds ho-“

“-Don’t.”

Even in his weakest of moments, even when in times of pain or reminiscing on the abuse, Aemond still would not let anyone say anything about Alys.

The good, the bad, or the ugly.

It was his to talk about.

And his alone.

“I know,” He continued, looking at your carefully, his silver lashes brushing against his cheeks as he momentarily looked down at your hand on his shoulder, and then back up at you.

The way he gazed at you made your chest constrict, “-I know that you probably don’t care about this,” You shook your head and Aemond sighed inwardly, “But I needed to tell you. To explain. I don’t want sympathy, or for you to make excuses for me. You said-... I listened to what you said. I'm trying, Y/n. In the only way I know how.”

You let your thumb rub his shoulder soothingly before you stepped towards him, your shoulder brushing his as you both looked out the kitchen window into the dark of the night, a blanket of quiet enveloping around the two of you, only this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

If he was sharing, then you would too.

“I caught Jason cheating on me with his now girlfriend, I think I told you that once. Caught them in our bed together, and he blamed me for it.” You breathed, lifting the tea to your lips, finding your mouth suddenly dry, “It wasn’t the first time though. But it was the last time. I knew he had a reputation but I ignored it. Fools in love, you know?”

Aemond nodded his head and huffed a quiet, bitter laugh.

“He was just so charming, and when I met him on campus, all the girls chased him, but he chose me. And it made me feel special, to have him choose me like that over them. Such a stupid pick me moment now that I look back at it." You scoffed quietly, "I think I was just so caught up on actually being desired… I know now that he didn’t. He was still sleeping with them, but still. I get what you mean about staying, hoping for better. I mean- I obviously- He never- He didn’t physically-“

“-It’s okay. I know what you mean.” Aemond reassured you, and you felt your heart quieten from its speeding pace.

You continued, “But I was never isolated. I was never alone. I had my friends. I had Hel. And if we are truly being as candid as I think we are being right now, I had a family who was there to support me, which I feel that you perhaps didn’t.” You looked down at your mug, watching the way the teabag shifted in the cooling water, Aemond’s gaze on you.

He lifted the cup to his lips and drained the last of the dregs of tea before settling it on the window sill, eye cast to the dark, then back to you, then out to the dark again in contemplation.

“I heard Cregan tell you about what happened to me.”

Anxiety and regret poured through you.

What else had he heard?

“Viserys had always been sick.” He explained, and you knew this already from what Helaena had told you, “Growing up, he was always at the doctors and the specialists, and was never really there. But in all honesty, I don’t think, even without the illness, that he would have been there. He-“ Aemond fiddled with the ring on his finger, family insignia pressed into its centre.

Twist, twist, twist, pause. “He never really got over his first marriage. Never got over the death of his first wife, Aemma. And I think,” You watched him lick his lips, “I think mum was a convenience to him. They married for convenience. She was more caregiver than wife… I mean, he loves her. I know he does. But he could have done more. And he never really paid attention to me and Aegon. Helaena he adores, but even then, their relationship is strained, not what it should be.”

Helaena often told you about her want for their father to spend more time with the boys, but he seemed to never have much interest in them. Not once giving Aegon, Aemond or Daeron the praise they needed, and only ever being cynical in their achievements, stating that they could be doing more, or that they were doing not enough.

This of course led to the way Aegon came to be the way he was.

Aemond chewed at his bottom lip, “A few years back I went to visit him. And mum. Went with Hel and Aegon. Daeron couldn’t come because of his studies. But we went together, a united front, and I just- I had this child’s hope that he would see me. But he was barely lucid on painkillers that he didn’t even know who I was. But he remembered Rhaenyra.” His voice got darker, resentment and anger and sorrow swirling on the tip of his tongue, “Said to her, in front of all of us, ‘My only child’.”

Your mouth gaped open.

Aemond spared a glance at you and shook his head, laughing bitterly, “Aegon laughed, but you could tell it stung, being the eldest boy and all. He just laughed and then drank himself into a stupor. Hel was quiet, and I-“ He rolled his shoulders back, “I just left. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

His voice shifted, brows furrowing as his lips twitched at the sides, pulling into a tight flat line. It was an attempt to not sneer as clear as day, “But Rhaenyra, she tried. She tried to say we were there, tried to explain to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her defend us like that, but it was no use. It was too late. We didn’t grow up together, we didn’t have that kind of bond. I know mum had a play in it. And after the incident, I guess it was just better for all of us that we parted ways."

You nodded, knowing all too well about this.

“When I lost my eye, it was an accident.” Aemond’s voice got quieter as his fingers traced the scar on his cheek and brow in memory, “And Cregan told you the rest, but he doesn’t know about what happened after. I had no-one.” He breathed, and you felt yourself shifting closer to him, hoping your presence would give the man some sort of comfort for the words that seemed to continue to spill forth from his lips in an endless stream of cathartic release. Thoughts and feelings that he had told you had not even been uttered to his sister.

“Mum was so hellbent on taking Rhaenyra to court that she didn’t stop or spend time with me when I was recovering in hospital. The only person there was Criston, and that was because mum made him. Hel, Aegon and Daeron went back to school, and I stayed in the hospital alone. I can’t- I don’t-”

Aemond swallowed, eye shutting as he stood to his full height, “I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed.”

Anxiety wound a coil in your gut.

Had he said too much?

Does he regret speaking to you?

Would he go back to being cold again? Quieter?

Your hand shot out before you could stop it, grabbing his larger one in your own. You watched as Aemond flinched slightly, hand flexing before it relaxed in yours. You soothed his knuckles with your thumb, anchoring him to the spot with you.

You swallowed, “Come to bed.” You said quietly, watching as his face moved through a myriad of emotions.

Shock, confusion, anger, and then finally, disgust.

“You think I want to f-“

“-No!” You said loudly, realising the accidental implication, before you lowed your voice again, “No. No, I- Just lay with me. Nothing else. I-“ You swallowed, “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

Aemond blinked at you softly, his face falling, “I’m always alone.” He whispered.

Your heart tugged in your chest.

You squeezed his hand gently, “You don’t need to be.”

The air around you shifted, Aemond staring down at you as you held his hand in the dark of the kitchen, unspoken words floating around the two of you. But in that moment, you didn’t need to say a thing.

Aemond nodded his head down at you, almost imperceptible, and your heart thumped in your chest as you led him towards your bedroom in the dark, not letting go of him until you pulled the sheets back and crawled in first, urging him to climb in after you.

If it was not for the sadness that permeated around the two of you, you would have laughed at how large Aemond was in your bed, taking up most of one side as he was on. He lay flat on his back, crossing his hand over his chest, unsure of what to do.

You took initiative and curled up against him, lifting one of his arms over your shoulder as you settled into the heat of his side. You let one hand rest against his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed quietly.

Aemond was stiff, unsure, uncertain, as you laid against him, lifting your hand from your chest to brush through his hair, an attempt to soothe the man with gentle strokes and repetition. You wondered briefly if Alys ever comforted him like this after their fights. After her infidelity.

You then wondered with a stray thought, if Aemond had ever been comforted ever in his life.

His hair was silky against your palm and fingers as you brushed your hand through it, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. You heard him breathe deeply, a small groan falling from his lips, the tension in his body slowly leaking from him.

You repeated the motion over and over, and eventually Aemond softened, his head tilting towards you in the dark of the room. Although you could scarcely see his gaze, you knew that he was watching you, only small pieces of light from the moon coming through the cracks of your curtains.

Heat rolled over you as you felt him observing you.

Aemond shifted in your sheets, hand coming to reach for yours in his hair, long fingers wrapping themselves around yours warmly, calloused palm rubbing over the top of your hand delicately.

With your hand in his, he brought it away from his silver tendrils, dragging it down slowly as he looked at you in the dark, moonlight shrouded over his body, just barely illuminating him as his lips parted, pressing a kiss into the palm of your hand. Your breath stilled in your throat as he did it again, tenderly, softly, reverently, before his mouth slid upwards, bottom lip dragging against your skin, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

Aemond pressed another gentle kiss to the tips of your fingers, a bare breath of air puffing over the digits as he tilted his head, pressing another to your inner wrist, right above your pulse point. You wondered momentarily if he felt the way your pulse quickened, blood thumping in your veins against his plump lips.

It wasn’t long until he dragged your fingertips back to his mouth, but this time, instead of the cautious and soothing kiss he had placed there before, his teeth now nipped at the pad of your pointer slowly. Not sharply with unconfined lust, but rather as if he was testing the waters, and when no argument came from your lips, nor objection to his indication to his now aroused state, Aemond leant forward towards your face, still holding your hand in his.

His lips met the corner of your mouth, barely there, yet full of yearning. You tilted your head upwards, to give him access to you, to which he pressed a softer kiss squarely upon your lips. You felt him breathe out through his nose in a shudder, your eyes slipping closed, not that you could see much anyway, as you kissed him back, cautious, curious, letting him set the pace.

There was no rush in the way he held you, sliding your body towards him with a large palm, hand spread against your ribs and waist, fingers ever so often tensing as he began to slowly deepen the kiss. But this was different to your previous times kissing Aemond. There was no malice, no rush, no anger simmering beneath the surface with resentment and confusion of the dynamic between the two of you.

These kisses that he pressed against your lips were slow, sensual, as though time had stopped for the two of you, and it spoke multitudes that Aemond was content to just bask in the warmth that spread between the two of you, his hand still holding yours, thumb pressed into your palm like a pressure point.

It was a side of him you had never seen before.

And you were content to leave it at that, to just hold him and kiss him in a way that he clearly needed in that moment, not wanting to move it forward, nor push either of you to go to someplace that the previous conversation in the kitchen would deter you from. But Aemond was not as content as you had thought he was.

His hand slid down your side, moving to cup under your ass as he dragged a leg over his side, nestling his hips between yours. You whimpered softly into his mouth as you felt his hardened length brush against your inner thigh.

Aemond taking this as the permission he needed, began to grind up against you, lips chasing yours lazily, keeping the same slow rhythm as before, matching the pace of his hips as he ground up against you, small gasp falling into your mouth from his as his hips stuttered.

He skimmed his hand from your thigh up your body, never breaking away from your embrace as he explored your body slowly, making your body out with careful precision. Each drag of his finger over your curves stored into the back of his mind for later.

Over the top of your sleep shirt his hand found your breast, hot air puffed through his nose as he squeezed, a mewl dripped hotly from your lips as you arched your chest into his hand.

He twinged a nipple between fingers, sending sparks through your body straight to your core, your leg dragging his hips closer to your heat as you bucked up into him, wetness pooling into your sleep shorts.

A hand slid itself underneath your shirt, feeling the away your stomach clenched beneath it as it moved upwards, finally resting over your chest. He splayed his fingers across your skin, feeling your heart race beneath his palm.

Your cheeks were heated, and Aemond finally broke away from the tender kiss that you had been sharing. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking to adjust in the darkness as you breathed shallowly, looking at him.

The air around you was static, and you got the sudden urge to pull back, to retreat, that this was too intimate, that you were showing too much of your hand to him, too much of yourself to him and what you truly desired.

As if sensing your sudden caution, the hand that held yours dragged itself down his own chest, his lips pressing into the corner of your lips before he settled your hand under his own shirt and above where his heart was.

Beneath your palm, you felt the same erratic heartbeat that was racing through your own chest, but this time, in his. Your fingers tightened against his skin, feeling bone and muscle, and a light dusting of hair beneath, but under all of that was the undeniable truth that Aemond wanted this just as much as you did.

Bringing your lips back to his you kissed him, both of your hands staying above each others chests warmly as you rolled your hips into his, a soft grunt coming from deep within Aemond throat.

With slow hands, Aemond took off your pants, aiding by your own hands as you slid them down your legs, kicking them to the bottom of the bed sheets where they were lost and would be found later. He then shifted, breaking away from the embrace as he took off his own pants, followed by his shirt, awkward movements jolting the bed that you would have normally giggled at if it wasn’t for the sincerity of it all.

And then you were back together, skin pressed against skin and anticipation buzzing through you like electricity. He held your jaw in both of his hands as he dragged you back to him, one hands fingers curling into your hair at the nape of your neck.

You were lost to his touch, growing dizzy from desire as he dragged your leg over his hip once more, slotting his hips against you. You felt his hard length brush against your folds, your chest pressing into him as you breathlessly whined into his mouth. Your hands slipped around his shoulders as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Aemond tilted his head, resting his forehead against yours.

Hot air puffed against your lips as he whispered, “Is this okay?”

You nodded, capturing his lips with yours once again as he took a hand to drag between the two of you, parting your folds in test to see if you were wet enough, and also to help guide his length blindly to your sopping centre.

Aemond pushed into you with one long and slow thrust, a sharp inhale sucked into the both of your chests, mouths opened as you paused from your kiss, lips still brushing against each other as you felt his length fill you completely.

His cock stretched you out thickly, his chest brushing against yours with every restrained breath he took.

Blood rushed in your ears, your pulse quickening as he pulled back, dragging his cock through your folds before back up inside of you. Your leg over his hip dragged higher as you pulled him closer, giving him a better angle to reach deeper within you.

The tip of his length brushed over every inch within you, a dreamy sigh falling from your lips as you nipped at Aemond’s mouth. He repeated the motion, slowly pushing his hips up into yours before dragging them backwards, leaving just his tip inside of you before he would plunge back inside.

You both pulled away from your kiss, foreheads pressed against each other as you breathed and whined, emotion pouring from him, his shoulders still tensed beneath your arms.

You tried to soothe him, running your fingers along the nape of his neck experimentally pressing into the thick cords of muscle at the back, at times rewarded by a small mewl from him before you settled to just tug lightly at his hair.

His thrusts never sped up, keeping the same restrained pace as heat bloomed in your stomach.

All that could be heard was the wet of your folds as he dragged himself through them and the pleasure that sang from the both of your lips.

The coil within you began to wind, and following his actions from earlier, you pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Aemond’s hips stuttered, and as he fucked into you sensually, all emotion and passion. You could feel the sadness that permeated from him, that creeped under his skin and into yours with every thrust or breathy whine. Your heart ached as you felt it, but you knew that this was what he wanted. That this was how he wanted to be comforted, that this was what he had chosen, and so you praised him as he sought his pleasure, and aimed to bring you to yours.

“So good.” You gasped against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his plump and bitten raw lips as you carded your hands through his hair softly, “Making me feel so good.”

A low whine escaped his chest, and you felt his length within you throb.

Your own coil was increasingly winding with every shift of his hips, every drag of his cock against the pleasurable spots within you, and the meeting of the soft dusting of curls at the base of his cock that brushed against your bud with every thrust.

“You feel so good, Aemond.” You praised huskily, cupping a cheek in your hand as you felt his thrusts finally begin to quicken, their steady pace crumbling from your praise and his nearing release.

His lips crashed into yours, desperate groan rumbling in his chest as a hand moved to wrap itself under your ass, pulling you closer, length pressing inside of you to its limit, spreading you wider apart on his length as he plunged inside.

The shift caused sparks to erupt in your gut, “‘M close.” You softly whimpered, “Want you to cum.” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, his forehead pressed to your own as he quickened his pace.

“Please.” He trembled in your arms, hand splayed on the globe of your ass gripping the flesh tighter.

But no matter how close he got to his peak, he didn’t push himself over the edge and you could feel it.

He was waiting for you.

Waiting for your encouragement, waiting for your pleasure. But in that moment, you knew that Aemond needed it more than you. You would give him the permission he needed to hear.

“Let go.”

Aemond came with a shattered cry, hips stuttering into yours as he rode out his release, hot ropes of warmth flooding your core as you cooed him softly, brushing hair away from his forehead as you kissed his scarred cheek.

“So good.” You cooed quietly, “So beautiful.”

His body rippled as he pushed himself to his limit, hips pressed snugly against yours as he puffed breaths of hot air against your cheek. His head dipped down to where your neck meets your shoulder, stomach intermittently clenching at the aftershocks, your wet warmth still gripping him tightly.

Your heart raced in your chest as Aemond pressed lips to the junction of neck and shoulder, kissing softly, air puffing against your skin from his nose. You dragged your hands up and down his back soothingly, feeling goosebumps erupt from his skin, a soft whine pressed into your shoulder.

His cock twitched inside of you, causing a breathless sigh to fall from your lips, pleasure still settled within you. Aemond’s head lifted from the crux of your neck, eye finding yours in the darkness.

“You didn’t finish.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

You chuckled softly, careful to make it known that you weren’t laughing at him, “I don’t need to.”

His brows furrowed at you, and you smoothed at them with a thumb.

Aemond shifted, dragging his length from within you, mewling whimper escaping your lips as every vein and ridge dragged through your walls deliciously. But instead of Aemond pulling out, he pushed right back inside, fire erupting over your skin as your breath hitched.

He bit his lip, overstimulated but wanting to bring you to your peak as he slowly fucked into you again, dragging his tip over the soft spongey spot inside of you with precision. He pushed all the way in to the hilt, his tip pressing into your cervix as you moaned desperately, fingers digging into the skin of his back as you gripped him to you.

You could feel his spend dripping out of you, stickiness coating your thighs and his sack which were pressed against you tightly.

Aemond dragged a hand down your body disappearing between your thighs as he gathered some of his cum up to your clit, swirling his thumb around it softly in circles. You moaned softly, breasts pressing into his chest as he held you to him, not moving his cock, but using it to keep you full of him, feeling your walls twitch and spasm around him as he brought you to your peak with a sudden cry.

Your walls gripped him tightly as he hissed, slowing his thumbs movements to drag you through your release until you whined that it was too much.

Your body felt like jelly, unable to move, content to just lay in his arms, cock softening inside of you.

And so that’s what you did.

Neither of you uttering a word as to what had just happened, nor a whisper of what had been said, both laid in the dark, legs intertwined, the warm glow of your peaks settling over you as your hearts raced within your chests.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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heizlut · 3 months

Note

here for the specific kink event hehe (love that idea tbh)

This will be quite specific but anygays- cnc dacryphilia mixed with slight degrading praises for Dom!Kazuha

Iykwim, like it's cnc connected with tears (dacryphilia) but he's not fully degradation, he's gentle :(

thank you anon!! i completely get what you mean and i can see kazuha acting like this for sure 😩 i love him forever (p.s.: hope you don’t mind i added a little fear-play as well)

The Cries of a Dove

cw: dark content, cnc, dacryphilia, fear-play, slight degradation, public sex (even though they’re completely alone it’s still outside)

tags: sub fem!reader, dom!kazuha, mostly proofread

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

ﾟ｡·*･｡*.｡🍁 ﾟ｡·*･｡*.｡🍁 ﾟ｡·*

Kazuha was the sweetest boyfriend. He always spoke so gently and treated you as though you were his greatest treasure. But there were moments when you just craved something more... Something darker. Your eyes flit to where Kazuha was sitting under a large maple tree, making soft music with small leaf. He always looked so peaceful and you loved him for who he was, but again, you wanted to see another side of him.

The leaves crunch under your feet and you sit down beside him. Kazuha removes the leaf from between his lips and gives you the most heart-melting smile, "Hello, my dove." You smile and rest your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh. His features twist into mild concern, "Is everything alright?" Now was your chance to speak up. Keeping your head on his shoulder, you look up at him, "Promise me you won't think I'm strange for this..."

Kazuha's soft laughter fills the warm air around you, "I would never think you're strange no matter what you told me." You huff out a breath, "So I've been wanting to try something...different." Kazuha waits patiently for you to continue. "Do you think you could... be more rough with me? Like...take me whenever you wanted without my permission first?" He blinks, processing your words in his head. You bury your head in his shoulder from embarrassment, "Say something..."

Kazuha places his fingers under your chin, "Look at me, dove." You hesitantly look up at him and he smiles, "I'll do it." Your mouth hangs open, "You will...?" He kisses your nose, "When have I ever denied you?"

Later that evening, you and Kazuha were walking through the ruins of Higi Village. The red leaves from the trees rustle in the breeze and the wooden ruined houses creak making shiver run up your spine. Kazuha squeezes your hand gently, "Scared?" You give him a pointed look that makes him chuckle. Kazuha pauses which stops you both in your tracks. His finger goes to his lips, letting you know to stay quiet as he whispers, "I think something is here. Stay put."

With that, he releases your hand, leaving you standing there with speechless. Kazuha disappears behind one of the houses and you look around cautiously for any signs of what he thought was out there. Minutes pass by and you begin to pace, lost in worried thoughts that he was taking way too long for your liking. Your thoughts are cut off by the sound of a snapping branch, from behind you. You whip around with wide eyes, your heart racing, "Kazuha?" Silence...

You look around anxiously when suddenly a hand clasps over you mouth and a hard body presses up behind you, a strong arm wraps around your waist. The sound of your scream muffled in his hand, struggling to get of the hold you were in. "Shhhh... You're too noisy", a hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine, but the familiar voice makes you begin to calm down. You breathe heavily into his hand that remained over your mouth, unsure of what exactly was going on.

Kazuha's free hand snakes down your body and takes its place on your hip, giving it a squeeze as he rolls his hips into you. "Stop, Kazu...", your voice muffled and also shaky from the adrenaline that coursed through your veins. "You don't get a say in this, my dove...", his voice a husky whisper as his fingers dance along your inner thigh, creeping towards your sensitive clit.

You inhale sharply when Kazuha moves your panties to the side and begins slowly toying with your clit, pinching then rubbing it with the pads of his fingers. You let out a small moan, the sound catching in his other hand that had yet to remove itself from your mouth. Kazuha huffs a small laugh, "You like this? Letting some man play with your little pussy... You haven't been able to turn to see that it's really me yet. I could be anyone right now..."

Your eyes flutter and you whimper at his words. He was right. If you hadn't recognized his voice and knew it was him, you would be helplessly moaning into some stranger's hand as he toyed with you. Kazuha runs a finger through your slick, "What's this? Are you turned on by the idea of a stranger having his way with you?" His tone was teasing, but condescending.

Kazuha slips two fingers into your warm, wet core, pressing them against the spot that had you melting into him. His fingers pump in and out of your pussy, continuously pressing the same spot over and over. The feeling made your legs shake. The whole situation was not one that you expected and it was overwhelming.

You stumble when Kazuha removes his fingers and pushes you forward. Your hands catch you from falling face-first into that ruined wooden wall of the abandoned home in front of you. You hear the sound of rustling clothes behind you and soon feel his hardened cock land on your ass. Your heart races again. You knew it was Kazuha, but his earlier words were really messing with you. He moves his hand from your mouth, only to shove two fingers into it, making you drool and whine around them.

It catches him off guard when he feels something wet run down his hand. Keeping his fingers in your mouth, Kazuha tilts your head back so he could look at your face. Something inside his twists when he sees you had begun to cry, but he wasn't going to stop now, "Really, my dove? Tears? This is what you wanted." You cry out when he slams himself into your pussy with virtually no warning. Your cunt squeezed him so tight, he had to put in extra effort to fuck the way he wanted to.

His voice is hoarse and low when he speaks again, "Look at the way this pussy swallows up my cock~ Such a pretty view." Kazuha bucks up into you switching from fast and hard, to slow drags of his cock within your walls. Drool spills from your lips, coating his fingers and down your chin. The noises you were making were pathetic almost as you whimpered and moaned each time he buried himself deep within you.

Endless praises fell from Kazuha's lips, the feeling of being inside you in such a scenario made him crazy for you, "My little dove takes my cock so well. Squeezing around me like you're trying to milk me for all I'm worth... Such a pretty little thing all helpless just for me -fuck-" Tears spilled down your cheeks, your adrenaline making you feel more sensitive than usual as you cum hard around his cock. Kazuha groans at the sensation and fucks into you hard, chasing after his own release.

Kazuha's body curls against yours as he releasing inside of you. His cock throbbing to the beat of his heart as he comes down from his bliss. A mix of cum leaks out when he pulls away. Kazuha takes his fingers out of your mouth and turns you around to face him. What a sight you were with reddened cheeks and glassy eyes that stared up at him in a daze. He gently rubs his thumb across your cheek, taking some tears with it and gives you sweet smile that held a hint of concern, "Are you alright, my dove?" You nod, trying to process everything, "You scared me a little, but I kind of enjoyed it... So thank you for giving into my request." Kazuha takes your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to your palm, "Anything for my little dove."

ﾟ｡·*･｡*.｡🍁 ﾟ｡·*･｡*.｡🍁 ﾟ｡·*

a/n: dear god, when is it my turn

#kazuha smut #kazuha x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #genshin impact kazuha

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anincompletelist · 4 months

Text

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv ]

happy january friends! :D

there have been a crazy number of wonderful fics that I have had time to catch up on this month, and I've saved a few for next month's rec as well!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

this turned out to be a bit of a long one! I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to the new year so far, and happy reading y'all! <3

it's a kind of magic | Jaistiel | E | 82k

Henry, the man who had asked if Alex's magic hurt him before asking if he used it for evil things. Henry, the man who seemed terrified of his magic, but also held a level of awe and wonder about it. Henry, the man who was likely scared out of his mind to share a tent with someone capable of the things Alex could do, but was offering anyway. "Alex." He watched as Henry's eyes widened with shock, his jaw dropping open just enough for his full lips to form a small, perfect 'o' shape. "If you're asking me to share your tent and your blankets, I guess you should at least know my name."

you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

"Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here."

Dream A Little Dream Of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

if I do not have (your) love, I am nothing | @read-and-write- | M | 9k

The church says that sin keeps you away from God. Your disobedience is to remain hidden and only admitted during confession. The greater the sin, the greater your penance should be, and God, as the loving God he is, will forgive you. Because God is love, and he’s the greatest expression of it. Love thy neighbor is the greatest mandate of all. Yet, when Alex loves, his love is seen as perverse, impure. The greatest sin he has committed was to fall in love with another man, who has lain by his side during countless nights. But when Alex looks at Henry, he finds nothing reprehensible, nothing unclean. Instead, he finds the truest form of worship held between his arms, trailing fingertips that climb up Henry’s spine as a litany of words spill out from his mouth. A room consecrated by each whisper of God’s name, said so reverently that no one would dare say they have taken His name in vain. [A character study of Alex, religion, divinity and love.]

sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 65k+

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

I wake up with your memory over me (and that's a real fucking legacy) | @coffeecatsme | E | 21k

The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis. [Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.]

Praise and Supplication | @nocoastposts | E | 3k

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. [When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.]

Room for Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) | @everwitch-magiks | E | 19k

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

stolen glances with a string attached | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 6k

Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window. The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read. The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side. “ALEX.” [An AU in which two men fall in love through their office windows]

two is better than one | @bigassbowlingballhead | E | 8k

“You’ve thought about being with two of me, baby?” Alex teases, “Are you sure you can handle that?” he smirks. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Henry says matter of factly. “Not that it’s even fathomable.” “What if it could be…”

love left a permanent mark | @hypnostheory | E | 10k

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” [Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare.]

Grounded In Fact | @england-would-fall | E | 5k

When Georgetown grad student Henry's and Alex's flights home are cancelled for bad weather, they secure the last room at a nearby hotel. Henry Fox, facing the prospect of sharing a bed with his roommate/love of his life/friend he has never confessed his feelings to, enters into an epic state of Gay Panic (tm). Come on in and watch as Henry Who Is Experiencing The Greatest Tragedy Since The Burning Of Alexandria navigates this very real and not at all in-his-head crisis.

kitchen confidential | @dumbpeachjuice | T+ | 4k

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” [Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.]

Newton's Fourth Law | dilfpickles | E | 26k

In which Alex meets his new very attractive roommate through Reddit, downloads Grindr, and discovers some things about himself and his roommate in the process.

Knowing me, knowing you | phlebotinxm | E | 8k

It wasn’t like the thought crept up on him by surprise. It had come in waves, like white salty water spread upon the shore and leaving little bits of foam and dust for people to see, like an idea Henry couldn’t quite shake that seemed to bleed into every era of their lives. It stayed at the back of his mind as he got up in the morning, and pulsed against his temple when he fell asleep. [In which, upon discovering something he’d never imagined about his father, Henry realizes that he is ready to take the next big step in his and Alex’s relationship.]

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers | @kiwiana-writes | E | 5k

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. [Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.]

The Consequences (Of Our Actions) series | @anchoredarchangel | E | 78k+

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." [Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.]

Burnt Offering | justice fortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple. Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually. The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz. But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself. He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to. [Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.]

Ho for the Holidays | @whimsymanaged | E | 6k

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” [Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.]

see you all soon! :D

sarah / anincompletelist xx

#my fic recs #fic recs #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue fanfic #firstprince #Alex x Henry #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

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mmmichyyy · 5 months

Text

🌸 gallavich fic rec list 🌸

welcome to my 2023 fic rec list! i went through my ao3 bookmarks and my tumblr tags from this year so here's some (not all, or else this post would go on forever) of my fave (new & older) one-shots, completed multi-chaps, wips & ficlets <3

make sure to check out my 2021 list & my 2022 list ! since i'm not going to include fics i've mentioned before in this year's list :)

& don't forget to check out @gallavichfanficlibrary @gallavich-fic-club @gallavichthings @thegallavault for more recs plus @galladrabbles & @gallavichmeta too ✨ let's go!

one-shots:

doesn't matter where we go by @heymacy (The boys take a road trip.)

to think that we could stay the same by teatrolley (post-breakup au, but Mickey gets out of prison, Caleb doesn't exist, and we get really into their past and Ian’s (struggling) head)

of going home by @lalazeewrites (Valiant has taken the greatest fall from grace the superhero world has witnessed in years. The Shrike is an unregistered vigilante who doesn't even ping the radar of Chicago's crime fighting scene. Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all. Not since the events of eight years ago.)

quiet by @babygirlmickey (In the quiet of a perceived absence of scrutiny, Mickey can be incontrovertibly tender. Or: 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.)

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) by literatii (As embarrassing as it might be, Ian is not only his husband but also his best friend, and Mickey is pretty damn okay with that. Why the fuck would he find other people to do the exact same shit with that he already does with Ian, minus the fucking, when he can just do that shit with Ian plus the fucking? It makes no sense. Or: Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.)

thirteen hours by @crossmydna (Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.)

queen of decatur by jaxington (“How’d you know that?” Ian asks, smelling chum in the water, the observant little fuck. “Not like your brothers are getting sent to lady prison all that often.” Mickey thumbs at his lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to distract Ian just by taking of his pants, but he is trying this new thing where he actually tells Ian what’s going on in his head. “No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s my mom.”)

like strings of fire by @gardenerian (mickey finds a safe and colorful way for ian to indulge himself when hypersexuality rears its ugly head.)

the needle and the burning body by squash (jesuisgourde) (Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.)

some fucked up romcom by godisthedice (Two years after they locked him up, Mickey told himself that he was done with Ian fucking Gallagher for good. Two years as a free man and he's marrying him for all the wrong reasons.)

when the sun goes down by @sam-loves-seb (super cute and fluffy lifeguard au!)

lava java by @stocious (He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.)

here's to hoping i'm not what kills you by @crestfallercanyon (After a confrontation gone bad, Mickey and the Gallaghers get Ian to the hospital. And look, Mickey always knew that if the Gallaghers had a will they'd find a way, but being roped into their schemes himself wasn't something he'd planned on signing on for. All the Gallaghers need to know is Mickey's helping out because he's not pure fucking evil. They don't need to know Mickey was scared shitless when Ian got knocked unconscious, Jesus, he can barely admit that to himself. Once Mickey knows Ian's not dead and not dying, he's out of there. Except he can't bring himself to leave.)

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian (Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.)

i'll come meet you where you are by @crestfallercanyon (Mickey comes back from prison with a ring of vicious bruises around his neck and an edge to him Ian doesn't recognize. But he came back. He came back, and now it's time for Ian to meet him halfway.

closing in walls and ticking clocks by c_cups_bitch_u_wish (So, this is happening. Mickey is sitting in the corner of the bedroom on the comfiest fucking chair he’s ever sat in, and his adult self and adult Ian are about to fuck. And he’s going to watch. What's most odd is that this doesn't even feel like the weirdest thing to happen to him today.)

a spark of fire by @lingy910y (“You wanted us to finally have some time alone. You wanted to keep me safe, but you didn’t really care as long as we were together. You didn’t want it to end.” Mickey swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I don’t fuckin’ know.” “But can I, uh, ask you something else?” Ian rubs his thumbs together. “You like me, Mick. You fucking like me.”)

flip fuck? by @gallawitchxx (Mickey’s always thought that Valentine’s Day was fucking gay. But then some dramatic, ginger fuckhead had to move into the room next to his, and steal his hole, his heart, and the attention of his tumblr mutuals. Mickey decides to keep it lowkey when he asks Ian to spend the evening together: You wanna hang out on Tuesday? Ian’s response is quick and gives absolutely nothing away: Sure thing! That big-dicked idiot better remember it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.)

completed:

prelude motel by @whatthebodygraspsnot (When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers.)

garden song (series) by @gardenerian (two gorgeous fics about ian's bipolar, about hope, healing, and tomatoes)

better by anomalously (It's been ten years since Ian's seen Mickey.)

in your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter (Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them.)

whumptober 2023 (series) by @sam-loves-seb (21 beautiful fics of angst & hurt/comfort)

out of nowhere by @suzy-queued (Ian should have never offered to hide his father's stash of gold. Now he's stuck living on a deserted piece of land in the woods, alone, losing his sanity. Mickey wants nothing more than to disappear — from prison, from his family, from the entire world. If only he knew where to get his hands on a cool million. The Gallagher gold. Mickey wants it. Ian will do anything to protect it. Who will cave first?)

all these things i have left to say to you by @crestfallercanyon (After all this time that Ian's been missing, he leaves a tape recorder on Mickey's pillow. And on it? An hour of pure, unfiltered, Ian audio that is all, apparently, dedicated to him.)

wips:

keys to my heart by @milkovichrules (Ian finds his stable college life getting difficult when a new neighbour moves into the dorms.)

intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar (another college au) (one of my fave fics of all time!!)

the ink is a witness to this by @palepinkgoat (six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.)

order up by @heymacy (Ian and Mickey work together at a Chicago diner. They like to push each other's buttons - all their buttons. How long until the dam finally breaks?)

second chapters by @squidyyy23 (When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy. And when he meets the charming, clever, utterly fuckable, redheaded children’s librarian, well, shit just keeps getting better and better. Mickey’s definitely not interested in anything serious right now, but what’s the harm in a little fun?)

electric blue by @goodkwuestion (Paramedic Ian Gallagher knows true love exists. He's not going to settle until he finds it either, no matter how much his friends and family roll their eyes at him. Mickey Milkovich, on the other hand, isn't sure about all that stuff. He's an engineer with a long to-do list, and chasing rainbows isn't on it. He'll never say no to a good time and a pretty face though. When they meet, it will feel like kismet, something inevitable that neither of them can shake. Honestly though, who would want to? Falling in love can be the easiest thing in the world, especially when the whole universe is rooting for you... That's if the whole universe is rooting for you.)

ficlets:

all of @heymrspatel's drabbles, especially this one of ian being self-conscious about his body

docks scene & birthday suit gardening ficlets by @metalheadmickey

all of @lupeloto's sweet & domestic ficlets

@sam-loves-seb's meta about ian being the moon and mickey being the sun

ian's birthday ficlet & 31 ways we never meet (a.u.gust 2023 ficlets) by @callivich

airport confessions by @dynamic-power

gallavich drabbles by @whatthebodygraspsnot

all of @howlinchickhowl's a.u.gust 2023 ficlets!

(if you made it this far, i also write fics occasionally too so here's a self-promo lol)

#gallavich fic rec #gallavich fic #ian and mickey fic #gallavich fic recs #ian x mickey #gallavich

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months

Text

The Perfect Send Off

Pairing: Billy Taylor x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war, slight coercion and corruption kink, loss of (male) virginity, smut. Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: Visiting war torn London, while helping to evacuate her sister and her children back to Cambridge, a young woman finds herself checked in at The Halcyon, and catches the attention of their bell boy, soon to be soldier, Billy. Based on this request.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Billy, don’t stare!” Peggy chastises her son with a swat to the arm. “Help the lady with her bags.”

Her eyes move appreciatively over the tall form of the sandy haired young man in front of her. He offers her a tight lipped smile, obviously flustered, considering the shade of scarlet he’s turning, before grabbing her suitcases from the marble floor of the hotel foyer. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles awkwardly to the dark haired woman beside him.

“It’s Mrs. Taylor in front of the guests, how many times?!” She hisses quietly, before turning back to her with a charming, painted-on-for-the-guests type smile. “Welcome to The Halcyon, madam. Billy is one of our bell boys, and will take your bags to your room for you now that you’re all checked in. My name’s Peggy, I operate the switchboard. Please don’t hesitate to ring down if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She watches Peggy walk away, each click of her high heels growing quieter as she retreats, before turning back to Billy, who stands there expectantly with her bags in his large hands.

Oh, I certainly will enjoy my stay.

She had arrived in London by train from Cambridge that morning, intending to leave again with her sister and her children. Since war had broken out, the frequent airstrikes over London had made it too dangerous for them to remain, so they’d be staying with her until it was safe to come back - provided they had a home to return to.

It would take a few days for her sister to get packed and have the house and children’s schooling in order, so she’d be staying at The Halcyon until they were ready to leave.

She spares a sideways glance at the bellboy as they stand in the lift together, the reddening of his face from having been caught staring at her only just beginning to fade. He’s younger than her by at least a couple of years, but has chiseled features that make him look handsome despite his bashful nature, and he fills out the grey slacks of his uniform more than adequately.

The reason for her trip to London is a serious matter, but she figures there’s no harm in having some fun with it.

“It’s nice that a young lad like you gets to work with their mother,” she says with a sultry smile, as the lift travels upwards.

His eyebrows raise, blue eyes widening slightly as he turns to her in the small space. “Oh, I’m not a lad, I’m a man…I mean, working with me mum, it’s not forever. Expecting me draft papers any day now…miss?”

He looks at her uncertainly and she huffs a quiet laugh as they step out of the lift together. “Yes, miss is fine, I don’t have a husband.”

Billy presses his lips together and averts his eyes, nodding slightly.

“So, you’re signed up to draft,” she says as they reach the door of her room, “how exciting for you. You’ll have to pop by and let me know your posting once you find out, I’d love to know.”

He falters, the suitcases he’d been carrying thumping heavily to the ground as he stoops to deposit them over the threshold of her room. He straightens, clasping his hands in front of him, and looks at her apologetically. “Oh…yeah, course…yeah, I will!”

She holds his gaze for a few moments, enjoying his barely disguised panic, before she speaks again. “I’d give you a tip, but I’m afraid I’m unsure of which bag I’ve put my purse in–”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, honestly, don’t worry,” he insists hurriedly.

“Nonsense, I have to give you something,” she purrs, “will this do?”

She leans up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching him carefully as she settles back on her feet.

His eyes go wide, the scarlet hue returning to his skin as he battles to hide a grin, tugging at the collar of his uniform. She hears him mutter “bloody hell” beneath his breath, as his eyes dart nervously down the corridor.

She wonders if he’s ever kissed anyone before, based on his reaction to a mere peck on the cheek she supposes he probably hasn’t.

Oh, my stay here is certainly going to be fun.

“Was that to your liking, Billy?” She asks with a smirk.

“Oh…oh yeah…thanks,” he says, swallowing thickly and trying to regain his composure.

Adorable.

“My pleasure. If that’s everything then, I’ll see you later?”

He nods, retreating from the doorway and down the corridor, sparing glances back over his shoulder at her standing there, until he’s back in the lift and out of sight.

It’s nearly two days later when she’s heading back up to her room in the late afternoon, having spent the day with her sister, that Billy rushes towards her, eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin on his face.

“I got my posting this morning!” He tells her excitedly as she puts her key in her room door.

“Congratulations, soldier,” she says with a wink, “got time to come in and tell me about it, or have you got to get back to work?”

“Just finished me shift, actually, so I’ve got time.” He loosens the strap around his chin of his Halcyon branded cap, removing it as if to signify the fact. His dark blonde hair is slicked back against his head, neatly parted to the side.

“Great, come on in then.”

Billy trails behind her, his hat held gingerly in both hands as he glances around the room.

“Make yourself at home, Billy.” She gestures towards the bed and he perches on the edge of it, while she takes the armchair opposite. She has never seen anyone look less relaxed and has to stifle a laugh at how rigid his posture is.

“So, about your posting–”

“Yeah!” He suddenly becomes animated again, leaning forward and gesticulating each of his words, “Came in the post this mornin’, tried to find ya, but you were out. I’ve been put on the anti aircraft guns! Can you believe it? I’ll be shooting German planes outta the sky!”

She watches him intently as he speaks, the curve of his lips, the brightness of his eyes. He exudes confidence when he’s passionate, not a trace of shyness to be found and it’s incredibly attractive.

“That’s very brave of you,” she says, “I expect your sweetheart will be worried for you though.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, his gaze downcast, “no, there’s no one…no sweetheart.”

“That’s a shame,” she drawls, her smugness at the fact barely concealed. “Tell me, Billy, are you a virgin?”

He widens his eyes, mouth opening and closing as he flushes pink from the base of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “N-no…I’ve had it off with loadsa girls…”

“Billy…” she chastises in a stern tone of voice.

He sighs, turning his hat over in his hands, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I’m a virgin.”

She moves to sit beside him on the bed, her hand caressing his shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that,” she reassures him, “but perhaps you’d like not to be? Can’t send you off to war, never having known the touch of a woman.”

He audibly gulps, staring at her in disbelief, so she takes the initiative, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

He freezes at first, she can feel him trembling all over, but he softens as she’s about the pull away and reciprocates, his hat slipping from his hands and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His mouth moves clumsily against her own, over eager and inexperienced, yet there is something endearing about it. She longs to show Billy the tenderness he deserves.

“I–I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers nervously against her lips once they part for air.

“It’s okay,” she soothes him, caressing his cheek, “just lay back. Let me take care of you.”

He nods, moving back against the bedspread.

She takes her time stripping him of his bellboy uniform. Billy is undeniably skinny, but his long, lean limbs are corded with wiry muscle, his chest and shoulders well defined and broad as they’re revealed to her as she sheds his jacket, shirt and vest.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with anxious, shallow breaths, his eyes glued to her as she removes her own clothing. His lips part as she bares herself before him, trembling hands reaching out tentatively to trace over her naked flesh.

Her eyes widen with shock and admiration and she removes his briefs. She had not been expecting Billy to be quite so well endowed; his erection is thick and reaches almost to his navel, the ruddy tip glistening with arousal.

Billy hisses through his teeth, brow furrowing as she takes him in hand to roll a sheath over the length of him. She can tell from the way he twitches against her palm that he won’t last long.

“You okay?” She whispers as she moves to straddle him.

His expression is almost pained, only able to nod as he looks up at her with desperation in his eyes.

She sinks slowly down onto him, her jaw going slack at the stretch, hearing Billy groan beneath her.

“Oh…oh god…” he grits out, as her hips sink fully against his.

Trailing her fingertips over his bare chest, while giving herself a moment to adjust, she soothes him with a soft kiss.

He hums into it, his hips bucking slightly upwards and she pulls back with a grin, rolling her hips against his, delighting in the way his thickness drags against her sensitive walls.

He gasps softly, head thrown back against the pillows, a few strands of hair coming loose from his carefully waxed style.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters.

His grip on her hips is vicelike as she rocks against him, she feels impossibly full and yet already anticipates this being an unsatisfying ending for her - she can feel him throbbing inside of her, as he pants hard beneath her.

Her backside slaps softly against his thighs once, twice, three times, and all too soon his eyes are screwing shut as he cries out in ecstasy, twitching as he spills into the condom.

She stills, gazing down at him as he opens his eyes, skin flushed as he gasps for air. He looks like a work of art, no shame or fear of making a fool of himself guiding his behaviour, just utterly lost in the moment.

“Sh-shit…sorry…” he whispers, as she climbs off of him. He pulls off the rubber and discards it in the bedside waste paper bin. “That was really quick.”

She smiles, guiding him back to her side and laying back. “It was your first time, that was going to happen. You’ll last longer next time.”

He grins down at her. “Next time?”

“If you want to, that is.”

“Course I do!”

He kisses her with more confidence, his hands snaking a trail down her body, squeezing greedily at her curves. After a few minutes of their languid kisses and caresses, she can feel him stirring to life against her thigh again.

“Could I be on top this time?” He whispers into her ear, settling between her legs, once he’s found another sheath.

She nods, sighing in pleasure as she feels him slip back inside of her. The change in angle and sensation of his weight on top of her heightens the feeling as each of his gentle strokes brushes deep within her.

While it feels good, it’s not quite enough to get her there, and as she feels his thrusts becoming less controlled, she knows she needs to help him to help her.

“Give me your hand,” she says huskily, taking it and guiding it between their bodies.

She presses his fingers to her pearl, guiding them to stroke her in quick, tight circles. “Just like that,” she tells him.

He’s quick to learn, stroking her in tandem with each snap of his hips. He groans low into the crook of her neck, stilling as he spends himself a second time, but the movement of his fingers never relents. The combination of his ministrations against her bud and him pulsating within her drive her over the edge, and she climaxes with a moan, clenching around Billy, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

He rolls off of her after a moment, throwing his arm behind his head and pulling her to his chest. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs with a lazy smirk.

“Won’t you get the sack?” She asks jokingly.

“Nah, leaving anyway, aren’t I?”

“Right you are,” she smiles, snuggling against him.

“You up for another send off then? I could die, y’know.”

“That’s manipulative, Billy!” She giggles, swatting his chest.

“Is it working though?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is…” she says quietly, feeling his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her thigh.

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