#i know i shouldn’t and that’s why i haven’t but like I WAS FINE LAST TIME. it was fine last time.

[feeder86]

Selfish

“Why are you arranging to go out with the boys? You know we’re going up to help my parents with redecorating this weekend!” Lucy complained, standing straight up and looking down at Ryan, laid out on the couch.

“We’re doing what?” Ryan asked, completely perplexed. “We were there last weekend!”

“Yeah, and I told my dad you’d give him a hand with the wallpapering this next weekend as well,” Lucy continued in her whining tone.

“Their entire lounge?” Ryan shot back. “Nobody told me!”

“Well…” Lucy mumbled, suddenly realising that Ryan was right. “I’m telling you now.”

Ryan huffed in frustration. He hadn’t had a night out with the boys in months. He’d thought, when he married Lucy, that he was setting himself up for a good life. She didn’t want kids, she wasn’t crazy about him visiting the gym all the time and she was a fully qualified chef! However, two years in and Ryan had never had so little time for himself, endlessly fixing up their apartment just as Lucy wanted it, then constantly heading out to see her parents; always being signed up for some tedious maintenance tasks now that Lucy’s dad was getting on a bit and living off his retirement income. “Fine,” he sighed, deleting his planned message to the group chat with the boys. “I guess I can see my friends when I’ve got a couple of weeks off next month.”

“Oh, yes!” Lucy nodded, making Ryan instantly regret reminding her about his time off. The cogs in her head clearly rolling into action, imagining all of the jobs he could get done in that time.

“Ryan!” cheered his buddies a full nine weeks later, amazed that he had actually made it out. “We haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I’m only here for one of two drinks. I dropped Lucy off in town to do some shopping,” he explained to them, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“You’re not coming to the club?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise after giving him the biggest hug.

“No… no. I wish I could, but…” he grumbled, considering the best way to explain how much Lucy was monopolising his time; how frustrating and demanding she had become since they got married. . “...I’ve got commitments,” he simply stated, deciding not to poison his time with his friends by complaining about the person who had kept him away from them for so long. 

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Jack jumped in, filling the silent void that was killing the mood. “Life happens.”

“Jack!” Ryan exclaimed, seeing his high school best friend and doing a slight double take. The guy had altered quite a bit since Ryan last saw him. Where had that double chin come from? How was he filling that shirt with all that padding in his stomach? What the hell had happened? “How long has it been, buddy?”

“I saw you at Ginny and Fran’s house warming, about four months ago,” he answered. “I introduced you to my new girlfriend, Michelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remember, Ryan nodded, thinking back to how drunk Lucy had been that night, and how early they had had to leave. But Jack hadn’t looked so overweight back then. They’d tried out their friends’ new swimming pool. Jack had been one of the first ones in. He definitely wasn’t out of shape. Not like he appeared to be now.

As luck would have it, when the guys all went to grab seats, Ryan ended up next to Jack, right on the end of a long, rectangular table. Back in their high school days, the pair of them had been the best of friends, and that old rapport immediately came back every time they met; even after months of separation. Jack had always been the bad influence that Ryan’s parents had never approved of. He’d been banned from hanging out with the guy on multiple occasions when he was growing up and, even now, he still felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t, giggling away at the crude jokes that tumbled out of Jack’s mouth with ease. 

“So, things are going well with Michelle?” Ryan asked, spotting that Jack had already referenced her several times in their conversation.

“Things are going great!” Jack beamed. He leaned in a little closer, clearly not wanting the other guys to hear. “We’ve even talked about getting married!”

At this, Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “Married? After four months?” he whispered back, knowing that Jack didn’t want this broadcasting. He remembered how promiscuous his friend had been during his college days. If Ryan had been asked to pick any one of the guys here who was least likely to ever settle down, he would have chosen Jack without a second thought.

“I know!” Jack beamed, leaning back and placing his hands on the top of his stout little paunch, which jutted out into a proper shelf as they sat down. “I’m so ready for it though,” he smiled, seeming to rub his stomach mindlessly. “I’m actually really excited about the idea.”

Round and round Jack’s hands went, rubbing that tight ball of stomach fat, pulling Ryan’s gaze into it. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled back.

Jack looked around, checking that no one else was listening in, then he turned himself a little more into Ryan, about to divulge even more private information. “Michelle’s super kinky!” he whispered.

Ryan chuckled and leaned in as well. His own sex life was so monotonous these days, he was actually quite ready to hear about someone else having a good time. “Oh yeah? She certainly looked pretty flexible when I met her that one time,” he grinned, settling into dirty ‘guy talk’ with enthusiasm.

“Oh, buddy!” Jack sighed, rolling his eyes and giving a huge exhale. “You would not believe it. She has me wrapped around her little finger. Absolutely anything she wants, I do for her.”

“That doesn’t sound too dissimilar to me and Lucy,” Ryan quipped, chuckling at his own joke.

“No, I’m not talking about boring shit, like decorating,” Jack shot back, having heard all about Ryan’s grumblings. “I’m talking about really kinky, submissive stuff.”

“Really?” Ryan smirked. “I never thought she’d be the dominant type.”

“No,” Jack agreed enthusiastically. “No one else knows. She hides it really well.”

Ryan had to admit that he was getting a little turned on. “So, what type of stuff does she make you do?” he asked next; his eyes twinkling with boyish interest, just as much as Jack’s were.

“All sorts,” Jack answered, his hands slipping onto his gut again. “When we started going out, I was still trying to act like the playboy I used to be. Michelle was having none of it. She’s put guys like me in their place before. Trust me, I’ve seen the pictures!” he smirked.”But her biggest turn on is making sure I overeat and get bigger.”

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, now understanding why Jack kept on holding his stomach. “I thought girls hated it when guys put on weight?”

“It’s an absolute fucking dream!” Jack replied, lowering his voice even further. Just the fact that he had sworn showed Ryan how turned on his friend was, simply by talking about it. “I get home and she’ll sit me in my gaming chair and set everything up for me. Then she brings me endless snacks and beers; a few sodas, cream cakes. Michelle won’t even let me get up. I do nothing around my apartment at all! No washing, no cleaning and certainly no cooking! She gets off on controlling my entire lifestyle when I’m at home. Then rewarding me for it.”

“Dude, that’s amazing!” Ryan had to agree, feeling surprisingly jealous. He’d been up until almost midnight last night, fixing a new shelf for Lucy’s candles, whilst his buddy Jack had been gaming, eating and getting pleasured the entire time.

“You see why I’m so keen to marry her now?” Jack joked back. “Can you believe it? I’m actually living out our dream that we used to talk about in high school.”

Ryan looked a little perplexed, trying to remember what they used to talk about ten years ago.

In turn, Jack seemed a little surprised that Ryan was struggling to recall. “You remember? Mr Hanson was such a bad gym teacher, we used to joke that we would just find some girls who liked fat guys and never have to put on a pair of itchy gym shorts again.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ryan chuckled. “That worked out well for me,” he sighed sarcastically. “I ended up marrying a professional chef, but I’m now ten pounds lighter than I was when we married.”

“Dude, there are other girls out there,” Jack went on enthusiastically. “Believe me! My eyes have been opened in these last few months! If you want the life that I’ve got…” he proclaimed, rubbing his stomach once more, “trust me, you can have it!”

Ryan nodded. No one else had dared to suggest he thought about a life beyond Lucy. Whenever he raised his concerns or annoyances about their marriage, people were keen to stamp them out, reminding him, in their accusatory tones, that marriage was all about compromising. Now, here was Jack, actively encouraging him to imagine being with someone else instead. It was the reason why Jack was, and always would be, Ryan’s very best friend.

Ryan looked at himself in the mirror a couple of weeks later. It was Sunday night. He should have been well rested, and yet he looked nothing but tired. The dirt under his fingernails from digging up Lucy’s parents’ garden all weekend was still visible in places, despite scrubbing for so long in the shower. His ribs were showing in his chest and, although he was built with plenty of muscle, he’d never looked so lanky and slim in his life. He thought of Jack and his life of pleasure and luxury. This… this tiredness and exhaustion was not what he wanted for himself. He looked almost ill.

Life had to change.

Ryan raised his cell phone to the mirror and took a picture of himself. This would be his lowest point, he decided with determination. From now on, things were going to change. He never wanted to see himself like this ever again.

“What’s all this?” Lucy complained, slipping into Ryan’s truck on their way to the supermarket. She held up several pieces of packaging, wrappers from fast food places and sugary snacks. “Is this what you’ve been eating when you’ve been in work this week?”

Ryan nodded without shame. “I feel like I’m too skinny. I’m trying to put on a few pounds.”

“Since when?” Lucy blasted back indignantly. “I’ve never told you you’re too skinny. I like the way you look.”

“I don’t,” Ryan shrugged. “I’ve never liked being skinny. I was always bigger than this growing up. In fact, I was actually quite chubby when I started high school.”

“Well, no. Sorry,” Lucy stated, without compromise. “I’m your wife, and I say no.”

Ryan looked at her in disbelief. “It’s my body,” he declared. “And I want to feel good about it.”

“I said no!” Lucy spat, brushing all the packaging into the footwell and sitting herself down. “Now, let’s talk about something else.”

Ryan got in, sat down and slammed the door shut, neither of them speaking for the entire ride.

‘Fastest ways to gain weight’ Ryan typed into the internet search that evening after Lucy had gone to bed. He quickly skipped through anything that dealt with muscle gains and focused solely on those that promoted increases in fat. He may have married Lucy, but she didn’t own him. In fact, she was the one who needed to learn that more than anyone. This was one ‘no’ that he wasn’t about to cave into.

“You’re looking well,” cried Ryan’s aunt as he stopped over to fix her leaking tap.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “I feel quite well,” he agreed. “I’ve been trying to put some weight back on these last few weeks. I was starting to get far too skinny.”

“I was saying that to your mom, but she didn’t agree with me. You had gone dreadfully skinny.”

Ryan nodded in agreement. He had always been much more on his aunt’s wavelength than anyone else in his family. “I found some recipes online and I buy in these little calorie shakes that seem to work well on me. I’ve put on about 20lbs altogether,” he explained, raising his shirt briefly to show that his stomach was indeed a little thicker. “Lucy isn’t too pleased about it. But she’s never happy these days.”

“Well, you were never skinny growing up, were you?” his aunt nodded. “You always had a sweet tooth, I remember. You used to eat me out of house and home when you came over!”

“That’s why I’m so tall,” Ryan laughed. “I was always so well fed growing up.”

The pair of them laughed and Ryan packed up his things. In the old days, he would have headed straight home to his wife, but now he was feeling the need to be much more selfish, heading istead to the fast food place he had grown quite attached to and determined that he would at last defeat the Mega Monster Meal that had, up until now, eluded him.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Lucy complained, checking the time as Ryan rushed about after his shower. He’d been late home, getting caught up at a job, sending his wife into a tailspin as she tried to get him ready for her friend’s engagement party. She’d laid his suit out on the bed, his underwear, shoes and socks; knowing exactly how she wanted him to look.

Ryan hated being rushed. So what if they missed the first twenty minutes? Was the world really going to end? It was the side of Lucy he hated most, struggling to pull his socks on as his feet were still so wet.

“Oh,” Ryan mumbled, sucking in his stomach and trying to button up the suit pants. He tugged and pulled, holding his breath as much as he could. “I’m too big for them!” he chuckled with amusement, remembering that he had bought the suit for a wedding less than a year ago, when he was much skinnier. “What a waste of money, these were!” he joked lightheartedly. “I only got to wear them once!”

Lucy stared on in horror. She’d told him again and again to cut down on his eating. Couldn’t he see how bad he looked? Wasn’t he ashamed of how his stomach was starting to develop into a little paunch.

“Relax,” he whispered back, trying to calm her down. “I’ll just pair the jacket with my jeans and then we can head straight out.”

However, Lucy’s face had flushed with anger. “No,” she declared, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m going by myself. I’m not being seen with you, looking like this.”

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. He didn’t have words, listening as she stormed down the stairs and threw the front door closed. He heard her car start and he peeked out the window as that too stormed off down the street; out of view. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ryan threw himself down onto the bed; still dressed only in his underwear and socks. How had he married someone so fucking unreasonable? She was just so… 

But then a thought came to Ryan, making his brain tingle into life. Had he actually just been given the night to himself? The whole house? Just him? All evening?

He looked down at his thicker stomach and smiled with delight at it. “Thank you!” he laughed aloud, managing to pinch a little and jiggle it in happiness. He felt a twitch in his groin, realising that with the night to himself, he could watch porn or do anything that he wanted. He could order food in. Lots of it! “Yes!”, he nodded, getting more excited and turned on now. This was his night. Free reign to be as selfish as he liked.

Ryan proceeded to indulge himself in every way possible, looking down at his bloated stomach a couple of hours later. Maybe this was it, he thought to himself. Maybe this was the way out of his miserable life with Lucy. He could seize upon her dislike of his weight gain and run with it. Why stop? He’d certainly gone beyond the point of denying himself for the sake of her ideals. There was a path in front of him, the exit sign shining brightly and a new life within his reach. He just needed to have the courage to reach for it.

“A Saturday night to yourself?” Jack laughed, surprised that Ryan had actually followed up on his promises and made it out for a drink. “You must have been a very good boy!” he teased.

Ryan hugged his friend and stood back to admire him slightly. Jack had grown wider since he’d seen him last, his hips and love handles spreading. Teh guy’s face was bigger, cheeks blooming large. And underneath his t-shirt, Ryan could see that the man’s nipples had become pointed, pressing outwards from his puffy former pecs. “I can see that you’ve been having a very good time of things!” he joked, being in the know about how Jack’s kinky sex life worked with his girlfriend.

“I could say the same about you!” Jack smirked back, poking Ryan in his tight little paunch. “Have you and Lucy been having your own kinky fun?” he teased.

“We’re not really talking at the moment, dude,” Ryan explained straight away; keen that he didn’t have to spend the entire night talking about her. “I want out. I’ve reached the end.”

Jack winced sympathetically. “I can’t say that I’m all that surprised after the way you were talking last time. But that still doesn’t explain this,” he pointed back at Ryan’s middle, smirking.

Ryan laughed, having forgottem how quickly Jack could lift his spirits with his cheeky humour. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied coyly, smiling with just as much mischief.

“Yes you do!” Jack laughed back, patting Ryan’s paunch properly now. “Did you do it on purpose? Is this to piss Lucy off?”

Again, Ryan laughed. He shruged his shoulders. “Yeah,” he nodded in surprise at Jack’s bluntness. There wasn’t anyone else in the world he could imagine himself admitting this to. “I guess I did,” he smiled, resting his hand over his thicker middle like it was his new prized pet.

“Dude, that’s so awesome!” Jack blasted; his face lighting up with all the enthusiasm Ryan remembered when the pair of them used to get up to mischief in high school. “You love it, don’t you?”

Ryan felt like he was dealing with an excitable puppy, but the interest was infectious. “Well, I can’t say I’m against it,” he replied diplomatically.

“Michelle is going to love this when I tell her,” Jack pressed on, ordering them both a couple of beers. “She said at the pool party that you would make a good fatty.”

“She did?” Ryan asked, surprised that Michelle would talk about other guys in that way.

“Absolutely,” Jack nodded. “She said you’re like me; a similar build; perfect for fattening up, apparently.”

“She really is a kinky one, your Michelle, isn’t she?” Ryan chuckled, feeling strangely aroused by the idea of her talking about him like this.

“How far are you planning on taking it?” Jack pressed him.

“The weight gain? Um, well. I’m not really thinking about anything really. I’m just having some fun,” he answered honestly.

“Dude, if you’re ever going to grow a gut in your lifetime, getting a divorce is one of them.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ryan asked, only half listening now as he tried to work out why there was so much blood pumping into his groin.

“A divorce is like a free pass for so many things. No one will bat an eyelid if you start getting properly fat once you two separate.”

“Well, we’re not quite there yet,” Ryan backtracked, wincing slightly as the word ‘divorce’ came up so casually in their conversation. Lucy hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, and neither had he to her. 

“Just imagine it though,” Jack encouraged him. “You, sitting in your own apartment somewhere, drinking as much beer and eating as much pizza as you want after work. No Lucy complaining in the background and telling you off. No massive list of jobs to be completed at the weekend.”

“That does sound pretty sweet,” Ryan admitted; his dick now inexplicably full of blood.

“I just can’t wait to tell Michelle,” Jack said again, more delighted than ever as the pair of them settled in to watch the football game on the big screen.

The realities of splitting from his wife were somewhat different from the fantasies that Jack tried to portray, Ryan soon realised. Divorce was quickly turning into the most expensive thing he had ever done. Lucy’s parents, who had been too impoverished to hire a gardener, or a decorator, or a maintenance guy the entire time he had been married to Lucy, suddenly stumped up the cash to pay for the most cut-throat, killer lawyer for their daughter. With his head in his hands, Ryan soon realised that he was going to have to start from scratch: no home, no pensions, not even his truck for work. The only place that he could afford to live was a room in an apartment downtown, sharing with two students from the local college. Twenty nine years old and here he was, right back at the starting line.

Of the two guys he now lived with, Ryan didn’t see much of Paul, the computer science major. He was often out in the library, or hiding out in his bedroom. That worked fine. With his life turned so upside down, Ryan wasn’t exactly wanting to be dragged out to parties midweek when he had work the next morning. No, the only real pain in Ryan’s ass was Ash; the smart-mouthed literature student with a carefree attitude to life that frustrated Ryan to no end.

“You know, when you get a real job, you’re not going to be able to sit up until 3am watching a movie marathon with your waste of space boyfriend,” he complained at the guy one evening, tired from an exhausting day in work, having been constantly woken by the pair of young lovers laughing so hard at the screen.

“Fine. Whatever,” Ash huffed. “I’ve had a stressful day, okay. I don’t need this.”

“Stressful?” Ryan parroted, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. “You want to know about stress?” he growled. “You’ve been sitting inside all day typing up an assignment on a computer screen. That’s not what real stress looks like. You’re in college - you have absolutely no idea about the real world; about trying to actually earn a living!”

Ash rolled his eyes. He’d heard it all before. 

Sure, Lucy knew how to press Ryan’s buttons, but this boy was on a whole other level. “You graduate with your masters in nine months!” he blasted. “What the hell do you expect to do then? You’ve got no idea, have you? How can you just wander so aimlessly through life?”

“What does it matter?” Ash sighed. “Things always work out in the end.”

“It matters because, trust me, your twenties will be over in a flash and you need to start getting somewhere in life. Not just watching movies until 3am! And certainly not with someone like Ben! You’re just setting yourself up for failure, and it pisses me off!”

“Like you, you mean?” Ash shot back, visibly annoyed. “You’ve done the whole marriage thing, the house, the cars. Yet, you're back here, sharing a shitty apartment with a couple of students. You did everything right, everything the grown-ups told you, and now look at you! Sometimes life is just like that. So stop taking out your frustrations on me and start focusing on yourself instead!”

Ryan didn’t respond. He stormed off to his room and threw himself onto the bed. Then he took a few breaths and considered what Ash had actually said to him. The guy had been right: he was taking his anger out on him. Ash was young, more academically bright than Ryan had ever been, good looking and full of personality. He had his whole life in front of him without any major mistakes under his belt yet. So why did Ryan feel the need to be such an asshole to him?

Despite not officially apologising, Ryan did make an effort to be nicer to Ash over the coming days. He still didn’t care for Ben, the guy's boyfriend, feeling that Ash could do much better. But he was polite and courteous, never failing to put in his earplugs when he knew they were going to be watching TV until late.

Ryan’s weight had not been a priority for him since he’d moved in. Any erotic fantasies he’d indulged himself in last year were thoroughly dampened by the divorce. Yet, his weight continued to climb, spurred on by the cheap, high carbohydrate diet he fell into whilst living in the apartment.

When he was with Lucy, Ryan had indulged himself in sugary treats and even high calorie supplements that he would now consider an eyewatering drain on his monthly budget. He was having to to work harder than ever to bring in the money and his paunch seemed to lose that fluffy softness of his early gains, solidifying into something firmer and more rounded as it continued to push itself out from under his chest.

New clothes were also a luxury that Ryan could ill-afford. His t-shirts fitted awkwardly around the swell of his stomach and there were many times in work when he felt a cool breeze on his butt crack. Beer was the only luxury he allowed himself in those early days, especially on the weekends, when Paul usually went back to visit his family and Ash was generally out partying with his boyfriend. In those few, blissful hours, he could guzzle down his beers whilst sitting in his underwear in front of the shared TV screen, appreciating exactly why he had given up his marriage. Life was hard, but it wasn’t always awful.

Through word of mouth, Ryan had started picking up more work on some of the other rental properties for students that littered this area of town. Desperate for the work, Ryan had been undercutting people quite dramatically in order to guarantee an income for himself. However, trying to get an early start on these types of properties was never as easy. Students were inherently lazy, he decided, whilst banging on the door of one apartment, trying to get someone to let him in. After a full five minutes, a groggy looking guy crawled to the door wearing only his underwear and a t-shirt that was back to front.

“Your landlord sent me to see your air con,” Ryan eventually explained.

Without a word, the exhausted guy simply opened the door further and let Ryan get by. “You’re not going to be noisy are you?” he eventually asked. “My boyfriend is still asleep.”

Ryan looked at his watch. It was almost 10.30 in the morning. Why would anyone still be asleep now?

“It’s okay. I’m getting up anyway,” yawned another guy, waddling sleepily from the bedroom and giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. It was only then that Ryan clocked him. It was Ben, Ash’s obviously cheating boyfriend; the guy’s face suddenly looking considerably more alert as he too recognised Ryan.

“You’re not going to tell Ash, are you?” Ben shouted, having followed Ryan out of the apartment the second he had finished up; safely out of earshot of his second boyfriend.

“Of course I am,” Ryan replied simply, continuing to walk away, without stopping.

“You’re just going to make him miserable,” the guy shot back. “Is that what you want?”

At this, Ryan laughed. Guilty people always seemed to have such a terrific way of turning things back around on the other person. “Trust me,” he sniggered. “He’ll be way better off without someone like you in his life.”

“Do you think it was easy for me with Ash?” Ben started next; his tone shifting to something nastier. “It’s not exactly easy trying to feel special when your boyfriend has a massive crush on the pot-bellied daddy bear he shares an apartment with. How do you think that made me feel?”

“What are you even talking about?” Ryan laughed, surprised at how far Ben was going with his bullshit. A daddy bear? He was only six years older than Ash.

“Oh, come on. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Ben snapped back, getting more viscious as he realised that Ryan wasn’t willing to compromise with him. “You’re always there, or strutting about in just your underwear, drinking your beers in the living area and being overly friendly. You’ve been trying to fuck things up for the two of us for ages.”

Now Ryan did stop, turning to face Ben properly. “What planet are you living on?” he asked, completely flabbergasted. “I just try to be pleasant. I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Prove it then,” Ben shot back, seizing upon an opportunity. “If you’re really not trying to fuck things up between us, you’ll let this one little indiscretion slide.”

If Ryan hadn’t just had the hardest year of his life, dealing with some of the most despicable, bullying lawyers out there, he may have fallen for Ben’s game. As it was, he wasn’t afraid of standing his ground. “Tell him by the time I get home later. Or I will.”

Ryan crept into the apartment later that evening, finding Paul in the kitchen. “You missed some drama today,” he sighed. “Ash and Ben broke up. I walked in on it all before. It was so awkward.”

“Is Ash okay?” Ryan asked, relieved that Ben had listened to his ultimatum and done the deed himself.

“He’s in his room,” Paul nodded over to the bedroom door. “We’d best leave him be.”

Ryan nodded in complete agreement, deciding to hide out in his room that evening so that Ash didn’t need to see anyone when he would inevitably have to come out for a glass of water, or to use the bathroom.

The evening was slipping away and Ryan had just finished a TV series that he had been charging through for the last two weeks. There was still an hour until he would need to get to sleep; enough time for one last beer, before the inevitable daily grind would start all over again. He strutted out of his bedroom and made for the refrigerator, pausing only briefly to crack the can open and chug a little of it. He burped quietly, finding that the first few mouthfuls of fresh beer always made him the most gassy. Then, suddenly, he heard the door to Ash’s room opening and he stood there, feeling completely caught out.

“Hi,” Ash whispered, not making any pretenses that he was here for any other reason than to see Ryan.

Feeling incredibly awkward, Ryan now regretted coming out of his room without a shirt on; his bloated pot belly on full display. Before today, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but Ben’s words had planted an unpleasant seed in his mind that made him question everything he did a little bit more. “I’m sorry to hear about Ben,” he stated straight away. “How are you doing?”

Ash sighed and began to pour his heart out. He knew all about Ryan’s discovery earlier that day and he thanked the guy for doing the right thing.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Ryan nodded, swigging the last of his beer and crushing the can for recycling. He shouldn’t have really had another one. His stomach felt quite painfully bloated and tight after it.

“Oh, and about those things that Ben said to you,” Ash quickly jumped in, seeing that Ryan was heading back to his room. “I hope it’s not going to make things awkward between us.”

Ryan had to think for a second about what Ash was getting at. The crush? Was Ben actually telling the truth about that? “Um, no. Not at all,” he mumbled back, rubbing his hair with a little embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, finally making his escape.

An evening out with Jack was exactly what Ryan needed a couple of weekends later, as Ryan’s divorce was at last finalised. Unlike Ryan’s months of hell, Jack’s appearance was symbolic of a life of sheer indulgence and pleasure. Unlike Ryan, his body was pure softness, with blubber beginning to creep its way into the guy’s neck and upper arms. His stomach had swollen quite considerably and his butt had a surprising width to it that Ryan had not expected.

“Listen, I didn’t want to message you about this. I kind of feel pretty bad asking you in some ways, knowing what you’re going through,” Jack started after Ryan had finished explaining how the divorce had eventually played out. “I wanted you to be my best man.”

Ryan smiled brightly. “Of course I will,” he beamed, getting up to hug his old friend warmly as he stayed sitting in his chair.

“Thanks,” Jack smiled. “It’s not going to be a huge wedding. Not everyone approves,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“How do you mean?” Ryan asked, sensing that Jack needed to offload.

“Well, Michelle’s parents aren’t coming,” he huffed. “They’d watched Michelle do this to her old boyfriend,” he explained, rubbing the quite substantial shelf of belly fat under his sagging nipples. “So when the same thing started happening to me, they told her they wanted no part in it.”

“Bonus!” Ryan joked, trying to remain upbeat. “My marriage certainly would have gone a lot smoother without the in-laws.”

Jack nodded, seeming to be somewhat in agreement. “Michelle’s not too cut up about it,” he whispered. “Then, well, you remember my dad. He still goes out running three times a week. So he’s not been all that in favour of Michelle and her wholesome home cooking..”

“You can’t live your life for your parents,” Ryan jumped in. It was a lesson he had learned somewhat bitterly when his own church-goin parents had taken Lucy’s side in the divorce. It made him think back to how much they had pushed him to get married in the first place, and he began to resent them, quite justifiably in his opinion.

“I know, I know…” Jack nodded. “And I wouldn’t change a thing. She’s it for me, y’know?”

Ryan raised his beer and they drank to that sentiment.

“What about you?” Jack asked next. “Is there someone new you’ve been holding back from me?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stated. “Well… I mean…” he hesitated for a moment. “No. No one.”

But Jack’s interest had already been piqued. “Oh, come on. You can’t give me that and then say nothing!” he teased.

Ryan sighed, realising that he had dug himself into a bit of a hole. “It’s nothing,” he huffed at his own stupidity. “It’s just, one of the guys I live with has a bit of a crush on me.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” Jack laughed wickedly.

“Well…” Ryan conceded. “It looks that way, yes. His ex-boyfriend told me off for strutting around the place in just my underwear. He said I had a pot-belly and told me his boyfriend thinks of me as a hot daddy bear!”

Jack chuckled again. “Well, he’s not wrong. You do have quite the pot-belly!”

“Isn’t it a bit weird though?” Ryan asked his friend.

“Being referred to as a daddy bear when you’re only twenty nine?” Jack asked, simultaneously nodding in agreement. “But once you put on a bit of extra meat, that’s just the way people see you. It’s much more arousing to lean into it, rather than try to fight it.”

“Lean into it?” Ryan asked. “That’s your best advice?”

“Just enjoy the attention,” Jack smirked. “So what if he’s a twenty-four year old gay guy? You don’t have to be into someone to appreciate their admiration,” he nodded knowingly. “Trust me on this one. You’ll come to see that I’m right.”

With the divorce at last over with and all lawyers paid off, Ryan began to feel the financial strain starting to ease. Lucy hadn’t been quite as successful in getting all that she wanted from him. The worst case scenario was, thankfully, avoided. A few more months of living with the boys and Ryan would soon have saved enough money to rent his own place instead. With the ties that bound him to his ex-wife now finally disappearing, Ryan began to remember why he had fought so long for this freedom.

“I’ll have the Monster Meat bucket,” he declared, walking into a fast food place and not feeling guilty about the cost for the first time in months. He sucked in the smell of all the greasy goodness and knew that this was a freedom he would never again take for granted. Now he could gorge on as much as he desired and never have to explain himself to anyone. He could literally get as fat as he wanted now he was divorced and single, with no one to please but himself.

As he settled down into a seat, Ryan felt the bliss of devoting all his attention just to his epic meal for a full 20 minutes. It was all the stress relief he had ever needed. No one in here was particularly slim and it seemed, in those moments, that he had taken himself out of a world that so frustrated him, and into one that he felt comfortable in. Sure, he could probably join a gym and drop this weight in a relatively short amount of time. He could train his body hard and attract some beautiful girl to make his ex jealous. But Ryan knew that he had moved beyond that now. He didn’t care what his ex thought of him, or anyone else for that matter.

Or was Ryan just kidding himself? Was this really a moment of clarity? Or would he soon go crawling back to a diet plan the second things started getting rough? He was desperate to believe that wouldn’t be the case, but no one could ever be totally certain when it came to the future. It was only the present he could master. And so, armed with that knowledge, he went back to the counter, even though he felt almost too stuffed to even think about food.

“I’ll have the triple burger, please,” he stated, adding another milkshake to go with it. “He felt his hardess start to tingle, like the old days when he used to do this. Back then, he’d assumed it to be some twisted excitement about pissing Lucy off. Now he realised that this was so much more. This was about taking himself to somewhere he had never allowed himself to imagine going..

“Is this for you?” Ash asked, handing Ryan two boxes of pizza. “The delivery guy was coming up the stairs as I got home.”

“About time!” Ryan sighed, taking the boxes from him and settling back into the chair in front of the sofa. Two pizzas were a necessity for the Friday night baseball game and he was already four beers down. It would have been a perfect night but for the sticky humidity that had loomed over the city for the last few days; making him strip to his boxers as soon as he got home. “Do you follow baseball?” he asked Ash politely, nodding to the couch to see if he wanted to join him; knowing that, with Paul gone for the weekend, Ash would be on his own otherwise.

“No. Watching sports is not really my thing,” Ash replied unenthusiastically, despite continuing to linger around.

“Do you mind getting me another beer then?” Ryan asked,deciding to put the guy to work if he was so free to just stand about like this. 

Ash hopped to his task with remarkable speed. “Here you go,” he smiled delightedly, heading straight over and handing it over to him, not seeming to realise that he was blcoking part of the TV screen. “I’ve got some chips and dip if you want some?” he asked next.

“Sure,” Ryan nodded, hoping that the guy would at least sit down then and stop getting in the way.

Once again, Ash went to his task, presenting the chips and dip much better than Ryan ever would have. He placed them on the coffee table and then finally sat himself down on the couch. 

“You not having any?” Ryan asked five minutes later, noticing that it was only him actually eating.

“No, thanks,” Ash simply replied, pretending to be interested in the game. “They’re for you. Do you want another beer?”

Ryan felt the remaining liquid in his beer can and nodded, surprised by how diligently he was being looked after. Even when he asked Ash to fetch him the ice cream from the freezer later on, he was surprised that the young guy hopped to it, bouncing off the couch with an enthusiasm he had never seen before.

At the end of the game, Ryan took himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after the seven cans of beer he had ended up consuming. He looked in the mirror and marveled at the reflection he saw within it. Bloated and stuffed, Ryan had never seen his stomach looking so round and tight. Although he had upgraded his underwear a little while back, already these were looking worn and stretched, pulling the waistband down so that a good couple of inches of butt crack were on show. His muscular chest had started to build up with fleshiness in recent weeks and he placed his hand there to feel just how soft it was starting to get under his arms. He pulled the scales out with his foot and wondered just how much he weighed in this overfed state. He stepped on, waiting for the numbers to settle: 256lbs; the biggest number he had ever seen by quite some margin. It was, quite frankly, the cause of an almost instantaneous erection.

“I was wondering, if you’re still hungry, I could make you some pancakes?” Ash asked next as Ryan finally made it out of the bathroom. “I’ve got all the ingredients in.”

Ryan sat himself back down with a grunt and rubbed the shelf of his tight stomach, surprised that Ash was still hanging about the living area. Couldn’t he see how full Ryan was? Was he completely obvious to the heavy breathing and occasional grunt when he had to move, even slightly. He knew that the guy had a little crush, but what on earth was he possibly getting out of all this?

“Go on,” Ash pressed, actually trying to persuade him now. “Just a couple of them; nothing too big.”

Ryan looked up at the guy, already making his way to the kitchen and just waiting for that final nod of approval from him. Out of little more than curiosity, he agreed; watching with interest as he spied Ash settling to his task. Was he really using that much oil to fry the batter mix up? Was he actually rubbing butter into them? Did he really need to pour on that much syrup?

Despite tasting amazing, Ryan knew that every mouthful he was taking was completely and utterly packed full of calories and fat. As if desperate for his approval, Ash had watched him consume every bite of them. A sweat had begun to pour off Ryan’s forehead, but he wasn’t entirely sure that this one was caused by the humidity. “I am absolutely stuffed!” Ryan declared, grunting and rubbing the stretched out ball of stomach fat. “I haven’t eaten this much in ages,” he chuckled. “Not since I was trying to piss off my ex-wife after she told me she liked me being skinny.” “You were putting on weight on purpose?” Ash asked, quite startled by the comment.

“I was going for it, like you wouldn’t believe!” Ryan nodded. “Unless you’ve been through it, it’s hard to comprehend how petty you can be towards the end of a bad marriage,” he grinned, suddenly noticing that his hands were all over his own rounded stomach. “I was even taking this special calorie supplement shake you can buy, just to speed things up,” he laughed, thinking back.

“Oh!” Ash exclaimed knowledgeably, suddenly naming the exact brand .

They both went quiet. What a strange piece of trivia for Ash to just know, thought Ryan. The guy seemed to sense that too, suddenly looking a little sheepish. 

“Do you still take them?” Ash asked next, trying to look a little less interested than his excitable voice made him sound.

“I don’t need to,” Ryan grinned, tapping his fully grown pot belly. I just weighed myself twenty minutes ago. I’ve put on another 40lbs since I moved in here. It seems that I just can’t stop these days!” He yawned, standing up and stretching. “Anyway, buddy. I need to head to sleep,” he declared, seizing upon the fact that his erection from the overeating had at last subsided.

“Do you think there is a way to tell if someone is like your Michelle?” Ryan asked the next time he caught up with Jack at the very hastily organised stag party.

“How do you mean?” Jack asked, only a little worse for wear as he and Ryan gradually fell to the back of the crowd of friends taking them to the next bar.

“You know… Someone who is into the idea of helping someone else gain weight,” Ryan explained, trying to keep his voice fairly low.

Jack chuckled. “Oh, trust me, you’ll spot them!” he nodded. They’re not exactly subtle. “They’ll find ways to ensure you’re eating and they’ll probably want to watch too. If they’re anything like Michelle, they’ll probably try to keep your activity levels low and complement you at the weirdest times; like when you’re bloated from overeating.”

Ryan nodded, taking it all in and finding a striking resemblences to Ash’s more recent behaviours. “Anything else?” he asked.

Jack considered for a moment. “The compliments,” he added next. “They’re totally bizarre. If they’re praising you for overeating, that’s a pretty sure sign. But sometimes they may try to convince you that you look better, or more masculine, or whatever it is they think you want to hear. When the reality is, you just look fat.”

Again, Ryan nodded, keen to match Jack’s thoughts to his own observations of Ash. “You see, I think I might have…”

“Come on!” shouted their drunk friends up ahead. “The night is still young. Stop waddling behind and get your big butts up here!”

Jack and Ryan smirked at each other. Despite Jack’s rather considerable extra weight, Ryan had been lumbered in exactly the same category. The pair of them were, for better or worse, the fat guys on this trip.

“You’re back!” Ash smiled late the next day as an exhausted Ryan made it home. “Did you have a nice time? Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat?”

Ryan looked again at the time. “You’re still up!” he asked with surprise, knowing that Ash always had an early class on Monday mornings.

“Well, I wanted to check that you got home okay,”Ash replied, heading to the kitchen and renewing his offer to make something for his roommate.

Smirking at the fact that he was being fussed over and mothered by a good-looking twenty-four year old, Ryan had been disappointed that he hadn’t had more alone time to discuss this situation he was in, with his buddy, Jack. “Okay,” he nodded, deciding to just let Ash do his thing. “Sure, that would be nice.” He headed for a shower, returning to find an enormous, steaming hot lasagne, glistening with grease and cheese, sitting there on a plate, ready to be eaten. “Did you make this from scratch?” he asked Ash.

Ash nodded. “I remembered you saying that lasagne used to be your favourite dish growing up. I’ve never made it before, but I made a whole bunch of them and portioned them up in the refrigerator for when you get hungry.

Ryan smiled at the effort Ash had clearly gone to for him; a whole new level of care and attention. He opened his mouth to try some and nodded in approval. The lasagne really was delicious, although it was more than obvious just how much oil, cream and several different types of cheeses had gone into it to make it really quite extremely high in calories. If all the beer and fast food hadn’t ensured his pants would be tighter tomorrow, this little calorie bomb sure would.

“How was the weekend, anyway?” Ash asked, sticking around for the show and watching Ryan devour every bite.

“Pretty good,” Ryan nodded. “I had a couple of jibes from some of my old school friends about my weight. But we all turn thirty this year, so the dad-bod is definitely where most of them are at now anyway. I’m just the one who has already graduated from that stage,” he winked at Ash, tapping his gut.

“What did they say?” Ash asked with surprising interest, placing a cushion over his crotch.

“Oh, you know,” Ryan went on, deciding to play up to whatever kinky fantasies he thought his roomate may be having. “Just pointing stuff out to me: telling me how tight my clothes are, how slow I was when we were walking to different places and calling me out on how much I was eating when we went for food.”

“They’re probably just jealous,” Ash shot back straight away.

Ryan smirked. There was no way any of the guys were in the least bit jealous of his sprouting pot belly, making him all but invisible to the many hot girls they bumped into that weekend. This was clearly just another one of those bizarre compliments that Jack had told him to look out for. “Yeah, you’re right,” he lied to Ash, rubbing his bloating gut as he chugged down a few of the sodas Ash had supplied with his late night meal. “I’m sure they are jealous, deep down.”

Stepping on the scale was not something that Ryan did all that often. He could feel his stomach’s rounded shape starting to swell even larger, and he knew, from the fit of his underwear and pants, that his thighs and butt were also bearing the brunt of all that he was consuming each day. Still, as he stepped up, early one Sunday morning, after a particularly gluttonous take-out weekend of having the apartment to himself, Ryan’s eyes widened in shock: 278lbs! “Fuck!” he blasted in shock, before laughing to himself at how fast the latest few pounds had slipped on. He really weighed that much? He didn’t feel that heavy! He strolled over to the mirror inspecting his shape. Sure, his gut was pretty well developed by now and all the extra eating had sure softened his chest up rather a lot. He spun, noting that his butt’s width was quite considerable now, with back fat bulding at his sides and folding under his shoulder blades. Yet, he still didn’t feel like he should weigh 278lbs! Somehow, he had always imagined a guy that size being much bigger than this. What Ryan actually felt as he saw himself there, was very small still; acting as a licence for him to continue to indulge.

Jack’s wedding was fast approaching as the weeks rolled by. After being fitted for their suits, Ryan and Jack headed out for something to eat.

“That tailor seemed pretty pissed off that we left it this late to get ourselves measured for the wedding outfits,” Ryan noted as they sat down and grabbed the menus. “I guess we’ll have to cross our fingers that they can get those pants in for you in time.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack shrugged. “I put on weight every week, so there would have been no point in going any earlier. I would just have outgrown them. “I’m almost 350lbs these days.”

Ryan nodded. Jack did indeed look impressively large, yet he was only 60lbs or so bigger than he was. And Ryan still felt tiny in comparison. “I know what you mean,” Ryan agreed. “I split some pants the other day. I’d only bought them four weeks before.”

“It’s weird, isnt it. When you’re gaining weight, you’re so tuned into how your body feels and looks. Yet, at the same time, you’re completely oblivious to it as well; how tight your clothes are getting, or how large you seem to other people.”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. He felt so glad that Jack noticed this as well, sparking a lively conversation between the pair.

“You’ll be getting your own place soon, I take it?” Jack asked. “The two students you're sharing with must be graduating soon?”

“A couple of months,” Ryan nodded, suddenly realising that he had been a little lazy in his hunt for a new apartment. 

“That’ll be nice!” Jack smiled. “Your own space at last!”

“Well, it’s not too bad as it is,” Ryan explained. “Paul is never there at weekends. And now he’s got himself a girlfriend, he’s not there much in the week either.”

“And what about the other one? The one you used to fight with loads?”

“Yeah, he’s there a lot, but… we don’t argue so much these days,” he admitted; suddenly feeling the desire to say so much more about kinky little Ash.

“Before I foget,” Jack jumped in. “Michelle wants to know who you’re bringing as your ‘plus one’ to the wedding next week.

“I’ve got a ‘plus one’?” Ryan asked, genuinely surprised.

“Dude!” Jack grumbled. “Seriously?”

“I’ll find someone,” Ryan replied hastily, seeing how stressed Jack was getting.

“What about that girl you were hinting at when we briefly chatted during my stag party?” Jack asked, clearly keen to get a name locked in.

Ryan thought for a moment. Had Jack assumed he had some potential hot chubby chaser girl on the go? He pondered the idea, realising, quite suddenly, that he didn’t really need one. In the most unexpected way, everything that he had yearned for in life had already arrived. “Hey, Jack,” he asked thoughtfully. “How did you know that Michelle was the one for you?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack shot back with a sly grin.

“Besides that,” Ryan insisted. “How did you know that you guys were meant to be together?”

Jack sighed. “I guess…” he began softly, “...it was the way she made me feel: so loved and cared for; admired and adored. I’ve never felt that from anyone before.” He seemed moved, just by talking about her. “Plus she dominated me and forced me to pack on over 150lbs of pure fat; which is one of the kinkiest fucking things I could ever have imagined!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ryan laughed and nodded. He made a crack about how much fatter Jack might be after he got home from his honeymoon, but, really, his mind was elsewhere; with someone else entirely.

Ryan arrived home to see a large crate of beers resting on the kitchen counter tied up with a ginormous red bow. He laughed, seeing that it was his favourite brand and noticing that a large tray of assorted doughnuts lay beside it.

“Do you like your present?” Ash asked, coming out of his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.

“You bought these for me?” Ryan asked, feeling his mouth watering at the sight of the doughnuts, even after how much he had eaten with Jack that afternoon.

As if psychically linked, Ash began unpackaging the doughnuts for him, leaving them open for him to stuff one into his mouth. “They’re to say thank you. I just had my novel manuscript accepted for publishing.”

Ryan nearly spat out his doughnut. “You’ve been writing a novel?” he blasted in shock. “Since when?”

“Since you kept reminding me that I need to do something with my life; back when you first moved in.”

“I was being an asshole,” Ryan confessed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

“You gave me the kick up the ass that I needed,” Ash threw back with a smile. “You always told me how clever I was and that I could do anything.”

“You’re an amazing person,” Ryan marvelled. “In fact, you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life!” For weeks now, he had worried that his behavious around Ash, indulging his little feeder tendencies in subtle ways, had only brought the guy to fetishize him. Their relationship was merely one of a simple exchange: Ryan would enjoy being overfed and catered for by his roommate, and Ash would get to enjoy the subtle art of ensuring a guy that he found attractive, continued to pile on a few pounds. Now, however, every sense felt strangetly heightened in this moment of celebration. He couldn’t believe that Ash had been secretly writing away for months when Ryan had assumed the guy to be inside his bedroom, playing games. Just how blind had he been this entire time?

Ryan took a step forward and Ash did not retreat. He grabbed the much smaller guy’s shoulders and held them firmly. Again, Ash did not stop him. Then, seeing the inviting, warm look on Ash’s face, Ryan took the biggest risk of his life, going in for a kiss and desperately hoping that Ash’s lips would move to meet his.

Unbelievably, Ash was kissing him back, moaning gently, as if luxuriating in something he had never wanted more in his life. The kiss became intense, very quickly. With his shirt lifted off him, Ryan felt the handsome guy’s hands rubbing all over his stomach. Before he knew it, Ryan was being guided into the living space, his sweatpants ripped down and then his body pushed with surprisingly kinky force, back into his usual chair in front of the TV. 

Ryan looked up at Ash with startled arousal. The guy seemed so naturally suited to taking charge. He would have known that this was Ryan’s first gay experience and he led the way with ease, erasing any opportunity for awkward fumblings to slip in. He cracked open one of the chilled beers and fetched the tray of doughnuts from the kitchen counter. Then, when he was sure that Ryan was settled, he plunged his whole mouth down onto the fat guy’s crotch.

Ryan’s whole body twitched.This wasn’t a blow job, he thought to himself, feeling the intense stimulation straight away. He found himself moaning, even when he was trying not to. Was this intense pleasure what it was supposed to have been like all along? Lucy had never made much of an effort with anything in the bedroom, but Ash’s mouth was doing things to him that Ryan could never have dreamed of. He supped on his beer and ate a doughnut, feeling Ash’s hands rubbing the spherical shape of his stomach, clearly getting off on making this moment all about him.

Barely two doughnuts in and Ryan felt his body lurching as it wanted to climax. Ash worked his pace even more, feeling the throbbing in his mouth. Then, when the moment came, he pushed his mouth even deeper, sending Ryan’s hardness all the way down his throat. The pleasure; the orgasm; that intensity. It was unlike anything Ryan had ever experienced in his life. 

There was no going back.

Over the following week, Ryan discovered that Ash had a whole arsenal of tactics to please him. Not only did the guy continue to fuss over him with his cooking and snack deliveries, but his tight, energetic little butt seemed determined to outdo every single previous sexual experience that Ryan had ever had. They spoke at length about their attraction to each other and how smitten they both had become. Ryan had no hesitation in inviting Ash to be his date for Jack’s wedding. And, in fact, spending so much time with a now professional writer, really helped Ryan to produce the best speech he could have wished for. Rather than feeling sick with nerves as the big day arrived, he felt excited and pumped, heartily stuffing himself on the big breakfast Ash had so lovingly prepared for him.

“Your friends really aren’t keen on Michelle, are they?” Ash commented later that evening, as the pair of them were reunited after Ryan’s time sitting at the top table and the endless photographs that needed taking.

“Um, no,” Ryan nodded. “Not so much.”

“I had no idea that your friend, Jack, used to be so slim before he met her,” he whispered, fearing that one of their families might overhear. “Your buddies seem to think she’s the devil incarnate!”

Ryan chuckled. He’d heard it all before. “She’s lovely really,” he tried, looking over at the pair of them as Michelle spoonfed her 350lb husband a large piece of their wedding cake. “She just… knows what she wants.”

“I think everyone here can see exactly what it is she wants,” Ash joked back as Jack’s full, swollen belly was patted with approval by his new wife. “It makes me wonder what your friends are going to say about me eventually.”

Ryan pulled Ash into him by holding his slim hips in his chubby hands. They had decided that it was best to go easy on the public displays of affection, considering that this was their first time out together as a couple. However, Ryan simply could not help himself.  “Oh, yes?” he asked keenly.

“I certainly don’t have any plans to put you on a diet,” Ash grinned, fingering the skin between the stretched buttons of Ryan’s beer swollen gut.

Ryan growled in lustful approval. His hands slipped onto Ash’stight, toned butt and pulled the guy in even closer.

“In fact, how come you’re not eating a big slice of wedding cake for me right now?” Ash teased.

Ryan moaned lightly. This was exactly what he wanted. He knew how much scrutiny he was under today. He could feel the judgemental eyes upon him, for his shocking weight gain, the fit of his tight shirt, and the fact that he was dating someone none of them had ever expected. He should have been nervous or self conscious. However, with Ash in his arms, Ryan had never felt more free to be himself. “But won’t that make me even fatter?” he teased back.

Ash smiled. “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that,” he joked, accepting the kiss that Ryan soon bestowed upon him.

Ryan felt Ash’s hands feeling his big, broad butt as they kissed; the pants he had been measured for only a week ago, starting to feel rather uncomfortable after only a week of dating the handsome twenty-four year old. The kiss ended and both of them laughed, realising how ridiculously long it had taken to get to this point. 

“Is this along the lines of what you had in mind for me?” Ryan asked moments later, pushing out his stomach as far as it would go and stretching those buttons even more.

Ash seemed thrilled, looking around the room in surprise that Ryan was making himself look so large in front of everyone that he knew at the wedding. He smiled, rubbing the underside of Ryan’s ball-like gut and then leaned in to whisper. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased.

Ryan growled in lustful appreciation, then took his boyfriend’s hand and led the way to the wedding cake.

Exactly one year to the day, Ryan and Ash were sitting in that same room, together with Jack and Michelle, celebrating a year since the wedding. They reminisced fondly, thinking about the perfect day it had been and laughing about how shocked everyone had been after Jack came back 30lbs heavier from his two week honeymoon. 

“You can’t be far off the weight I was this time last year,” Jack noted, surveying his buddy’s hefty appearance.

“Possibly,” Ryan nodded, rubbing his large stomach. “I still  don’t feel big yet though,” he replied, as if he was oblivious to the enormous ball-shaped gut and the groaning of the chair, supporting his wide butt and mostrous 347lb body.

“Unless I ask him to do something,” Ash jumped in comically. “Then he always says he’s too fat to do anything!” he joked, making everyone chuckle.

“I’m actually going to be pushing Jack to five hundred pounds this year,” Michelle explained, taking her morbidly obese husband’s hand as if this was an announcement that thay had been planning for some time.

Ryan noticed Jack staring at his face for a reaction; perhaps some surprise that his old school buddy was so ensnared by his beautiful wife that he was willing to take his weight gain to such extremes for her.

“He’s going to be a lot of work for you at that size!” Ash grinned conspiratorily at Michelle. “I hope you’re ready for that?” he laughed.

“Oh, I’m counting on it!” Michelle smirked, rubbing the 430lb man’s knee under the table.

“You’re a very lucky guy,” Ryan nodded at his friend in approval.

“There you go, Ash,” Michelle smirked. “It sounds like we may have another willing volunteer to join the five hundred pound club,” she nodded towards a jealous looking Ryan.

“You’re joking aren’t you?” Ryan laughed. “Ash is heading off on his second book tour in March. “I won’t be gaining anything for almost two months whilst he’s gone. I’ll probably just wate away!”

“You liar!” Ash teased him back. “Last time I was away, you pretty much lived on takeout and put on almost twenty pounds in a month,” he chuckled.

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Ryan smiled back; his voice dripping with affection and lust.

Michelle looked at them both, clearly wanting to cut through their mushy meanderings. “So, five hundred pounds?” she asked again, trying to circle the conversation back. “I’m getting the impression that you boys are kinky enough to enjoy seeing that on Ryan,” she pressed; ever the bad influence.

Ryan and Ash looked at each other with a wicked excitement in their eyes.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Ash stated diplomatically. Unlike Michelle, he liked to be a little more discreet about his kinks and fantasies when it came to enjoying Ryan’s large body.

Ryan smirked and winked at his old buddy Jack. He knew exactly how to read between the lines of whatever Ash said. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to get Ryan to that size. And so, just like his high school best pal, Ryan was as good as setting sail for five hundred pounds. How insanely arousing was that?

“Eat up, my friend,” Ryan smiled competitively at Jack. “I’m coming for you, Fat Boy!” 

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fic

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons - Part 10

WC: 817, Masterpost

Jason sighed as the tablet in his hands flashed with alerts. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“How did the meeting with Black Bat go?” Bruce asked instead of responding, because of course he did.

“You know it went fine,” Jason said, trying not to snap. “Besides, everyone likes her, there was a good chance it was always going to go fine.”

“We both know trauma isn’t always that easy,” Bruce said, his tone carefully modulated to be gentle. It rankled Jason, like it always did.

Jason took a breath and let his chin drop to his chest for a moment. Bruce didn’t mean it like that. He knew that now. This was Bruce trying as best as he was able— it wasn’t just another mask. Bruce just had to put effort into emotions that made it seem forced. Jason pushed away his flair of temper; it was harder to do than he’d like after too much worry and too little sleep.

“Ja—”

“I’m fine. It’s just like you said, trauma isn’t always that easy. I’m fine,” Jason said as he waved the concern away. “And names. You know we’re sticking to code names still.”

Bruce tilted his head, observing Jason through the white lenses. (That used to rankle too.)

“You thinking there’s a chance he’ll run.”

Jason sighed. He gave an exaggerated shrug to cover the worry that ran through him at the question. “Not run, exactly. I think he doesn’t believe that he can stay— that it’s even on the table. I think that we’re his last hope and he doesn’t believe in hope anymore.”

Bruce didn’t move. Jason gave him time to think that over.

“That’s why he doesn’t want to see… Wayne,” Bruce said, slowly, like he was feeling the idea out. “He doesn’t expect to get anything from him so it’s better to be healed up first.”

Jason shrugged again.

“Figure so. But also once that meeting happens, whatever happens, then all of this,” Jason motioned to the safe house, “is over as far as he knows. If he puts off the meeting, he puts off the risk of losing the first safety that I think he’s hand in a long, long time.”

Bruce’s shoulders hunched and he almost blended back into the shadows by the window. “If he’s already posed for it to go badly…”

“B, that’s not your fault,” Jason said— had to say. “The kid’s been through hell, maybe by his own family, of course he’s going to expect the worst.”

It was a long moment and then Bruce nodded, just once. “What’s the plan?”

If Jason really had his way, the plan would be to deal with all these ill feelings, but that’s not what anyone in the family was good at, him included. It would be what it would be.

“We’ll have BB over again for a meal tomorrow. I’m sure it will keep going well and she can help be on watch that night. We think it’s best to give that a few days before we introduce O or anyone else new, so you have to keep the rest of the horde reigned in,” Jason said pointedly. Then a though occurred to him. “Where is the little spawn anyways?”

“He’s on the roof across the block.”

“Yeah, is he? Because that was a lot of alerts—”

“Hood!”

Jason didn’t think before he was striding across the room towards Danny’s room. The kid was standing in the door. White hair stark in the low light. Green eyes bright.

Glowing.

Wide with fear.

“Danny?”

“Someone else is here,” Danny said. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Jason could half swear he felt it in his very bones. Danny reached out and clung onto the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie. A cold settled into Jason’s bones along with the vibration of the soft words. “Someone touched by death. Can you feel them too? They’re not not like us. They haven’t died. They haven’t died, but they reek of death. Hood, what are they?”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, remember?” Jason assured Danny automatically. The words rolled out of his mouth without Jason having to even think about them, which was good, because Jason’s mind was still caught on Danny’s words: They’re not like us. They haven’t died. “Some Bats just stopped by to check on us.”

Was it Bruce? Did all of Gotham’s death cling to his shoulders like his cape?

Was it Damian? Was it the stench of the Pits?

Or did Jason miss something else slipping in with all of the other alarms.

“We’ll go check on Nightwing together, alright? I bet he has a little red and black guest who slipped in,” Jason said. He twisted his hand to hold Danny’s. The cold bit at his skin. He didn’t let go.

He hoped he was right.

He had a hard time believing in hope too.

---

AN: A myyyyyyyystery *wiggly fingers*. Gods I'm so tired.

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!

#jason has therapy but he still hates feelings #bruce doesn't know how people do feelings #this is a problem #dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

[literaila]

bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

last part | next part

*

year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long. 

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly). 

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze. 

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell. 

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong. 

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable. 

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences. 

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward. 

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked. 

“what happened?” 

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks. 

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else. 

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?” 

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you. 

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.” 

“the kids say something?” 

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“ 

“what about you?” 

“what about me?” 

“you’re frowning.” 

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.” 

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong. 

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar. 

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.” 

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.” 

“you didn’t sleep?” 

“i did…” 

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie. 

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about. 

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core. 

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business. 

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you. 

“why?” 

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out. 

“what?” 

“a little space. i just…” 

“what?” his brows are furrowed. 

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.” 

“i don’t want to talk.” 

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone. 

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“ 

“just tell me what happened.” 

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.” 

“clearly, it’s not nothing.” 

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly. 

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?” 

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips. 

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing. 

so he does. 

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that. 

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything. 

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

*

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said. 

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her. 

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals. 

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear. 

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows. 

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong. 

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets. 

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink. 

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting. 

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.” 

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.” 

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?” 

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.” 

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.” 

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?” 

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.” 

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin. 

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.” 

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.” 

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.” 

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” 

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft. 

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits. 

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist. 

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.” 

“wow. way to narrow it down.” 

you pinch his leg. 

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy. 

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.” 

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline. 

“he did?” he whispers, eventually. 

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.” 

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.” 

“you would only care about that.” 

“hey, a free meal is no joke.” 

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.” 

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own. 

“so, did he say why? something happen?” 

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.” 

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.” 

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?” 

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.” 

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it. 

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up. 

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…” 

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough. 

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.” 

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes. 

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know. 

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again. 

you wipe the tear away as it comes. 

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say. 

so angry that he's never been enough for this. 

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.” 

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.” 

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed. 

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes. 

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.” 

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.” 

you shake your head. “you never do.” 

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers. 

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.” 

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead. 

“i know.” 

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go. 

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know. 

what would you do if the situations were reversed? 

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.” 

“satoru…” 

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means. 

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.” 

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying. 

you laugh. 

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.” 

you push him away. 

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in. 

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains. 

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?” 

satoru grins. 

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention. 

just staring at you. for a different reason this time. 

*

next part | series masterlist.

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #a typical family

[quitesins]

Boxer! Bakugou x Sports Journalist! Reader

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, drabble, aged up bakugou, boxer! bkg, sports journalist! reader, female reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw

“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”

Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.

It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.

“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.

“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”

Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.

“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”

You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.

“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”

The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.

Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”

It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.

Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.

You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.

He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.

“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.

“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.

“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”

He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.

“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”

“Should I be?”

Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”

“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”

“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”

“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”

For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.

“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”

“What?”

“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”

“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.

“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”

Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.

“That shut you up, huh?”

You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.

“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.

It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.

I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…

#bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #quite shorts #quitesins bkg

[icedmatchatae]

Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded. 

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ. 

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?” 

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.” 

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it. 

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face.  But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved. 

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well. 

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now.  Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming.  You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears. 

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this. 

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva. 

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him. 

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it. 

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt. 

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly. 

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him. 

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek. 

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt. 

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

-

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly. 

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

-

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

All rights reserved for ©️ icedmatchatae 2023 (｡●́‿●̀｡)

#matcha masterlist #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader

[saerins]

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꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot you don’t understand about what’s going on with sae, but he can say the same about you. question is, once you both find out more about each other, will your growing feelings stay the same?

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. profanity, alcohol, reader is fairly straightforward here, pining, jealousy, misunderstandings. word count: 5.8k

༝༚༝༚ slightly shorter chapter this week ^_^ hehe we’re getting closer to the messier/exciting parts so bear with me heh :) mwah ily guys <3

you’re starting to learn that maybe you can’t get your hopes up with itoshi sae.

a week later, you don’t hear anything from him. you both haven’t spoken since that night he took you out. not that you’re entirely too bothered—it’s a first for you, trying to get to know someone as in-demand as sae. (you don’t count eita because you’ve known him since before the fame.)

it doesn’t help that you don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. you promised sae that you wouldn’t spill, and you’re keeping that promise. somehow, it makes you feel a little warm inside; thinking that there is some sort of intimacy you share with sae that only the two of you know.

besides, even if you could talk to eita about it, you don’t want to. 

is it too quick for you to think you might fall for him?

falling for someone isn’t really in your life plans yet, especially after your last and only tumultuous relationship, but maybe itoshi sae is different. he sure seems like it.

the next week rolls around, and you still hear nothing from him. which is fine with you; you’ve resigned yourself to thinking what’s yours will be yours and not to force anything… even if you spend most of your idle time wondering if sae is ever going to post anything on his private account. did he really just create it solely because you asked him to?

you can see that he logs in to it, judging by his icon on that little viewer list in your stories. but that’s the extent to which you see him online. he doesn’t reply, or do anything much. considering his normal account is probably mainly run by his team, you guess you shouldn’t expect too much from him.

still, maybe it’s a little pathetic of you to be wearing his cap so frequently. it’s sort of become a staple piece for you, somehow. to be fair, there’s hardly any dress code in place for you to follow and considering the bulk of your workwear is mostly casual, it fits right into your style. although, after sumi pointed out one day that it’s a luxury brand and that it costs more than you would personally ever spend on a cap (even if you had the means to), you try to wear it less often. (though that seems like a waste considering it was given to you.)

“you know, you gave the boss a really good scoop, enough to last for a few months,” sumi points out during lunch, taking a lick of her vanilla ice cream as the both of you sit out on the roof, escaping the cramped office. “so why do you look so stressed?”

honestly, you didn’t even realise you did. you thought you were being normal, but it has been a while since you had a normal crush on someone, and since itoshi sae is certainly not just a normal somebody, maybe you had been acting a little off, always waiting for a text, a call even, something.

“nothing, i just haven’t been able to get a good sleep lately,” you lie, hoping that sumi won’t pry.

she doesn’t.

“hm, it’s friday today,” she hums, pondering. “maybe you should find a few of your friends, get out, let loose, you know?”

later at your desk, the clock almost striking 5pm, you think maybe you should. because as much as you love your chill friday nights alone (mainly because your mom is barely home on the weekends), you don’t think it’ll do you much good if you keep mulling over the same old thing.

but just as you’re about to go pester eita again, he gets to you first, his timing impeccable today.

there’s an aching disappointment in your chest when you realise sae isn’t going to be there. maybe it’s just the glaring difference between the life of a celebrity versus someone normal like you. his schedule must usually be packed to the brim after all.

whatever, you’ll let him come back to you on his own time. for now, all you want to do for the weekend is to spend it having fun with the guys and settling everything you need to on saturday and spend sunday to yourself.

this possible thing between you and sae, whatever it could be, can wait. you’re not in any rush. at least, that’s what your head tells you.

your heart feels something different.

it’s only the second time you’re actually hanging out with eita’s friends, but you’re not regretting it one bit. even on the day of the event they’d been welcoming to you, and tonight is no exception.

they’re all sat around the wooden table on the balcony, a ton of beer cans and liquor bottles littered across the table. you sit on the long end, on the long chair, right beside eita, sides of your bodies always pressed close together that it makes a glint form in oliver’s eyes.

he’s still curious, not out of concern but just because, about you and eita and sae and how everything is going to tie together. it’s not everyday he sees eita being okay with a girl that close to him and not complain that she’s a bother. it’s also not everyday that sae creates a private account. oliver got bored and saw one day that you were the first person he followed.

you must really be something.

“where even is sae today?” you hear sendou ask, a hiccup following suit. “i finally come over and he’s not even here.”

he’s sitting on your other side, his profile strangely reminding you of the very guy he’s asking about. maybe it’s the way his hair is a lighter shade of pink, maybe even his sharp jawline. his eyes are different though, more expressive, and universally soft somehow.

you remember how sae’s can look soft, his teal eyes turning gentle whenever you try to approach him. but it wasn’t that way when you first met him, that’s a given.

“i don’t know, said he was too tired,” oliver sighs, stretching in his seat.

“wasn’t he just with bianca yesterday?” yukimiya asks, oblivious to oliver’s glee.

it kind of stings, but you stay quiet, the alcohol slowly seeping into your system. you can feel eita leaning against you a little bit more, and his presence has always been comforting, so you let him.

sendou hums, index finger tapping against his near-empty beer can. “is that still going on? how long has their relationship status been a mystery already?”

karasu snorts, nudging sendou on the elbow. “salty just ‘cause you tried to ask her out and she rejected you?”

as you sit quietly and observe, it seems that sendou was once at an event with her too—apparently, he had asked her for her number and she didn’t even want to give it to him. and then a month later she “met sae and was all over him”, according to karasu.

with the exception of eita, who sits quietly beside you, they start a debate on whether or not sae’s finally starting to see bianca in a different light. or, as sendou points out, “maybe they’ve been a thing all along and just hid it really well from everyone.” it’s not exactly something you want to listen to, even if you are the most curious you’ve ever been about a guy, so you block it out from your ears. 

but oliver leans forward, resting his chin on the liquor bottle in front of him, staring straight at you. you’ve never really noticed it but his eyes are really beautiful, the different shades of green and purple making him seem ethereal just like that. 

“you’re a girl, y/n, what do you think?” he asks you, a lazy drawl in his tone.

mirroring his actions, you bat your eyelashes at him, looking innocent as ever when you answer him. “i think you guys should stop talking about that her behind her back like that,” you say, earning a raise of oliver’s brows in return. he’s surprised, to say the least, but not in a bad way.

it’s not even that you don’t want to hear about her. you’re wantonly curious, especially since you’re beginning to realise your small hint of emotions towards sae, but something tells you that these guys wouldn’t be too kind with their words if you egg them on.

karasu gives you a nod of approval that you miss before he leans back in the chair, whispering to yukimiya, “at least we all know shidou won’t totally hate y/n.” but it’s too soft for you to hear, and you probably won’t even be able to make sense of it even if you did, not with the gradually increasing level of alcohol in your system.

between intentionally drinking to not be a pathetic mess who keeps thinking about her potential love life and having to drink because you’re usually good at drinking games but not when oliver is around with the way he keeps beating you at everything, you happen not to notice a lot of things.

at one point, oliver has replaced sendou next to you, whispering snarky comments in your ear in between games. he’s not the flirting kind, at least not to you, and he doesn’t push your boundaries physically either—he’s more akin to a friend you’d love to gossip with. that’s why you don’t even think much when he tilts his camera towards you, taking a selfie with both you and eita in it.

just a normal picture of friends hanging out, oliver leaning against your legs, propped up on the chair, your own head leaning into the crook of eita’s neck, all of you evidently tipsy from the dazed look in your eyes.

what neither of you notice is oliver’s smirk as he posts the picture onto his private, betting on his target audience of one to see it.

and now, he’ll just have to wait.

one hour later, the doorbell rings and yukimiya’s eyes glance over to eita, comfortable with an arm around you, and he takes it as his cue to open the door. eita’s probably too reluctant to move and he’ll let whoever it is at the door keep at it for hours before he’ll answer the poor guy.

he’s expecting some random food delivery, maybe from karasu because he’s been whining about wanting some chicken with his beer, or maybe even shidou showing up at the last minute from his other party. but this? the person he’s staring at in the eyes right now, is the last person he expected to see tonight. 

“wait, i thought you weren’t coming?” yukimiya asks, but oliver’s already shouting from the balcony.

“hey, sae, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asks from the balcony, taking a swig of his beer.

beside him, you hear sae’s name and your head immediately whips around to look at the door. there he is, looking tired as ever but he’s there, in the flesh, dressed in all black, jacket and sweats, teal eyes finding you from all the way across the house.

sae wordlessly walks past yukimiya, the latter following behind him, still shocked that he’s even present. sure looks like sae always means it when he says he wouldn’t come to gatherings like these.

when he gets to the balcony, earning a cock of oliver’s brow, sae tilts his head, “i was invited, wasn’t i? what’s so surprising about that?”

oliver snickers at sae’s blatant avoidance of the question. deciding he wouldn’t get anything out of him anyway, he shrugs and accepts it. besides, he can already see that sae’s too busy trying to calculate if there’s enough space for him to sit beside you, with the way his eyes are scanning your surroundings. maybe it doesn’t help how eita’s so clingy with you, his arm still around you even when you’ve already straightened up.

both sae and eita are just staring blankly at each other, and everyone is aware of it except for you, because your head’s a little dizzy and you’re still thinking whether sae popping up here is a figment of your imagination.

you’re not that drunk, are you?

you get your answer when a shadow looms over your body, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. he smells the same he did that night you kissed him.

“what, this seat taken?” sae asks, and you dumbly look down at the small edge of space beside you.

no, it’s not, but you’re probably going to have to squeeze between him and eita if he sits there, no more legroom. you shift anyway, eita making space (albeit reluctantly), the way sae ends up being so close to you enough to send your mind into overdrive. you’re still wondering why he showed up.

you, and everyone else. not oliver though. he knows why. and it’s not like he wants to intentionally make you cough out your feelings but it looks like the other guys who are oblivious to your feelings are steering in that direction. 

“no bianca today?” karasu asks, a mocking tone in his voice.

sae doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, though. “wasn’t with her.”

“why not? scared we’re gonna make you two make out again like last time?” yukimiya asks, finally relaxing back in his seat. he says it jokingly, although you know the sentence at hand probably isn’t a joke.

“wait wait wait, you two made out?” sendou asks, incredulous, mirroring your exact thoughts. 

a jealousy creeps up your spine, engulfing your alcohol-riddled distractions. some part of you wants to know what it’d be like to be kissed by him. you purse your lips into a firm line, wondering if you were being an accidental homewrecker by kissing him that night.

“it was just a game,” sae responds, making no moves to drink the beer handed to him.

eita pulls his arms away, moving in favour of getting you a drink. it’s not that he even knows anything that’s going on between you and sae, but he can tell by how you’re stiffening up that you’re probably a little affected. he slides a shot over to you, and you down it with ease.

ignoring the way the other guys keep harping on the topic, sae turns his attention to you, flicking the tip of the cap he gave you, and you shift your gaze to look up at him, the small smirk he gives you when you do making your heart flutter again.

why is it so easy for him to do that to you?

“haven’t sold my cap yet?”

you thank the heavens you’re not too tipsy to be normal. “i’m holding out for higher bids, actually,” you quip, grinning. “you can offer one too if you want it back.”

sae hums, head tilted again as he ponders while staring at you. slowly, he leans down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear him, “how much do i have to bid for you to keep it?”

maybe it’s the liquor, but you feel your cheeks heat up. it can’t be his close proximity. it can’t be the way he’s so close that you can see the beating pulse on his neck. it can’t be the way you think you look more intimate here than you should. definitely can’t be the way all the guys have noticed and are giving each other looks.

why does he even want you to keep it? is this some sort of abstract way that he’s using to tell you that you’re not an accidental homewrecker?

you make a mental reminder to yourself to never get drunk in front of sae. you don’t want to end up blurting out some less-than-decent thoughts of yours.

“what’s wrong? too tipsy now to talk back?” sae asks, and you can only pout at him, not in your usual condition to think of smart comebacks. it makes the corner of his lips tug upwards just a little bit more than usual, his hand coming up to teasingly push the cap down further—in that seemingly affectionate way he does.

and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to agree to continue to play games, not when you got roped into never have i ever and karasu, to the delight of oliver, said he has never fucked anyone at this table. seeing that only you and eita put a finger down, everyone can tell there’s probably a complicated history between you and eita. not that you owe them any explanation, though you kind of do feel the urge to tell sae that it was in the past.

you steal a glance at him beside you, the mild look of surprise befallen on his handsome face. you wonder if he thinks badly of you now. you wonder if he’ll think badly of you when he sees what your life is really like. will he think you’re just going to be a stain on his fancy life that it’ll be better off not knowing you?

or maybe… maybe he has a complicated past too. with bianca.

funnily enough, eita loses after yukimiya says he’s never had sex with more than five girls. the disappointing part is you didn’t really get to know anything interesting about sae.

“hey, you feeling okay? you can stop playing if you wanna,” sae tells you later on, after god knows how many minutes have passed and you’re already onto the next game. you don’t even know why you agreed to play two truths one dare in the first place when you know it’ll just be a shitshow for you. 

over the course of x minutes, you’d managed to learn many things, some of which being that karasu and eita had shared a girl in bed, that yukimiya dared to do a body shot on oliver, that sae would consider bianca an important person to him, and that you really can’t make up your mind to go big or go home because oliver had just dared you to spend seven minutes in heaven with anyone of your choosing.

of course, you can safely choose eita and trust him not to do anything if you told him to. but on the flip side, you can choose who you really want. even if you’re not so sure he’d want to anymore.

“you can always choose me,” oliver jokes, lifting the mood. although the smirk on his face makes you question it. “i’ll definitely show you a good time.”

while you’re having an internal dilemma, karasu and sendou are in the background teasing oliver for being fake, saying that he shouldn’t be offering that if he’s already interested in miss manager.

but you snap out of it when the irritated sigh you hear out of sae somehow feels like the world is sending you a sign. in some way. you’re not sure if you’re reaching—is he bothered by oliver’s comments? and why does oliver look so smug all of a sudden?

you’re beginning to regret not being sober, you can’t figure this shit out. but what you do figure out is what you want to do. why think so much about tomorrow when the present is right here?

so you don’t pay it any more thoughts, getting up and dragging sae with you by the shirt, ignoring all the commotion left behind by the guys, save for eita who only stares blankly at you as you drag sae into his own room and lock the door.

“oh shit, sorry dude, didn’t mean to—”

“for the last time, just friends,” otoya snaps, cutting karasu off, although not even sendou believes him. for someone who doesn’t even care to treat people nicely, sendou can at least see that eita treats you a fair bit better than anyone else.

in the room, sae can only watch blankly as you stumble over your feet before finally settling on the edge of otoya’s bed. the envious, green side of him can’t help but wonder how many times you’d been here, in his room, with him. though it’s kind of amusing how you chose to bring sae in here now.

from what sae can tell, you’re probably a little more tipsy than you should be in these types of situation, and a part of him is relieved that you’re not here with anyone else. if you were here with otoya, would you be fooling around by now?

“so, thought you were too tired to show up—what happened?” you ask from where you are on the bed, body swaying slightly, eyes threatening to close.

the moment he takes a seat next to you, you lean close, your head coming to rest on his shoulder, and sae has no doubt that you’d already drank a lot before he came. proximity this close, he can smell the shampoo in your hair, can feel how soft it is.

“i couldn’t sleep, got bored, that’s all.”

your shoulders vibrate slightly as you giggle, pulling away, a suspicious glint in your eyes. “damn, and here i thought you came for me.”

even when you’re intoxicated you still have such a smart mouth. sae shrugs, his gaze turning ever so soft, like every time before when he looks at you. there’s something about you that he can’t quite place, something that makes him act so differently than he usually does, and for once he doesn’t hate it. “did you want me to?”

not taking the bait, you keep up your casual demeanour, even if your eyelids feel heavy and you’re about five seconds away from just passing right out on the bed.

“you know, it’s fine to say you missed me and wanted to see me,” you tell him, grin wide as ever, almost infectious. you’re only surviving on liquid courage right now, the way you unashamedly try to flirt. though, if sae isn’t moving away, does that mean he doesn’t mind?

he looks off to the side, pondering for a while before turning back to you with a straight face, “i missed you, wanted to see you.”

for a moment, you feel like your heart might stop.

“is that what you wanna hear?”

almost instinctively, you grab the stray pillow lying on the bed and fling it at sae, earning an amused laugh from him but you barely realise it, too caught up in the frustration that his words were just strung together to entertain you as opposed to his actual feelings.

crossing your arms, you look away, the exhaustion of the day coupled with the dread of tomorrow nipping away at your consciousness. “don’t patronise me, itoshi sae,” you huff, and you miss the way he looks at you with a smile on his face.

will you remember any of this tomorrow? you’re not drunk, but you’re not exactly thinking straight either.

“were you… very busy this past week?”

your question is voiced so softly, almost like you’re afraid to ask, and sae realises maybe he should’ve at least told you he wouldn’t be able to make it as early as he thought he would.

“yeah, i was.”

technically, he isn’t lying. he was back in japan last saturday, but maybe he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to do anything else.

“with bianca?”

it’s even softer this time, and for some reason, sae’s almost kind of relieved you’re asking. he just doesn’t know what it is.

“no, not really,” he tells you. it’s complicated, and you don’t even have context; he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to you about it.

you put your legs up on the bed, hiding your face between your knees, and sae’s left wondering whether alcohol really makes that much of a difference. you seem bold, shy and teasing all at once. his hat is still on your head, your thoughts coming out into the open.

“are you… involved with her?” your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

a small smile dawns onto his face, safe from your view. he doesn’t really know the implications of you asking the question, but he likes how you don’t beat around the bush. it’s nice not having to constantly guess what you really mean.

and maybe it’s you rubbing off on him, but he doesn’t answer it straight.

“curious, y/n?”

when you lift your head up to look at him, you see the widest smile he’s ever given you, objectively much smaller and way more subtle than everyone else, but it’s a smile all the same and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

“yes,” you answer honestly, because you’re not sure when exactly you’re going to pass out but you have a feeling it’ll be soon and eita’s bed is just so soft.

sae is only mildly stunned by how straightforward you are, so he decides to do you a favour. he doesn’t usually like divulging things like this; topics that bring gossip and are undoubtedly going to come back to him if it gets out. what’s more, you work for a sports magazine so you can totally use this against him, but it isn’t even that you’re intoxicated right now, but more so that he feels he can trust you with it.

slowly, he reaches his hand over, and for once he tips the cap upwards a little so he can see your eyes when he tells you, “stupid, i’m not involved with anyone.” is that clear enough for you? he’s not sure why but he hopes it is.

what does he even want with you?

the moment you hear it, you break out into a wide smile, genuine and actually infectious this time because sae feels the corners of his lips threatening to pull upwards even more. what the heck is this feeling?

“really? i’m so relieved,” you exhale, voice a little airy, looking a little too pretty that sae immediately pulls the cap back downwards. “so,” you move on, adjusting it back in position, daring to move closer to him, face so close to his own that he has nowhere else to look except straight into your eyes. “we have four minutes left. will you grant me whatever i want, itoshi sae?”

you have a habit of calling him by his full name. he makes a mental reminder to get you to change that. not tonight though, he doesn’t want you to forget.

it’s weird how he feels around you; why does he feel so overwhelmed yet want more both at the same time? he swallows the lump in his throat, keeping his composure, “depends, you’re pretty demanding, tell me first and i’ll consider.”

“itoshi sae, i’m not!” you refute, punching him playfully on the arm and he has to hold your arm to stop you from falling off the bed. “i don’t know. the guys outside are probably expecting us to fuck or something.”

there you go, unfiltered and he kind of likes it. his fingers are still around your wrist.

but the answer is crystal clear to him.

“no.”

“huh?” it takes you a while to process. given that the only thoughts in your head as of right now are only: what does sae think of you and eita? and bianca is important to him. “what if it was just a kiss?”

he hums, then shakes his head. “nope.”

“wait, am i not pretty enough for you or something?”

you’re whining and sae finds it cute of all things. you have a tendency to misunderstand, so maybe he needs to adjust how he talks to you. he’ll see. but before he can even say anything else, your head falls into his chest, your regular breathing the only sound that fills the room after. he’s perplexed and amused all at once; how did you manage to fall asleep so quickly?

contrary to your thoughts, sae has always thought you were pretty, ever since the first night he met you. even in your private account where you post yourself in hoodies too big for your body and no makeup, clad in sweats—still pretty.

sae sighs, his fingers stroking your hair now that you’re asleep, and whispering in your ear only when you’re not able to hear him.

“if i do that, i think i’ll end up wanting more.” and you’re drunk and that’s not what he really wants.

but he does give you what you ask for, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

that’ll have to do for now.

“so, nothing happened?” sendou asks, bored, as sae carries you on his back as he comes out of the room.

you’re passed out and drooling on his shoulder and he doesn’t really care about that.

“it’s sae, c’mon, did you expect something?” karasu laughs, all of them coming in from the balcony because in the seven minutes both of you had spent in the room, it managed to start raining. “maybe if it was bianca, y’know, then maybe.”

sae ignores all their passing comments, choosing to walk over to otoya, “hey, she passed out, i’m just gonna take her home.”

as much as sae isn’t particularly fond of otoya, he’s probably your closest friend here and he doesn’t want him to think he’s just going to take advantage of you.

otoya’s green eyes flicker to the clock on the wall before he shakes his head, speaking softly so the others won’t hear. “nah, just put her in the guest bedroom. i’ll send her back in the morning. you can head back first.”

there’s an irritation that builds up inside him, but sae maintains his emotionless expression, remembering that otoya knows you much more than he does. “i could just—”

“she doesn’t want to go home tonight,” otoya cuts in, a warning glare in his eyes. “trust me.”

suddenly, sae remembers the last time he met you, your swollen cheek and the way your eyes were glazed over. and he wants to ask otoya what it’s all about but this is about you, and he really shouldn’t ask someone else.

“fine,” sae concedes. if whatever’s at home makes you miserable, he won’t bring you there. “i’ll put her in there before i go.”

there’s a lot more otoya would like to ask sae, because oliver’s not the only one curious at sae’s seemingly odd behaviour. he wants to know what exactly he thinks about you, but everyone’s still around and it’s not a good time, so he sucks it up and lets it go for tonight.

as sae puts you down on the bed and pulls the blanket over you, he gets a brief flashback of the night he set bianca down in her hotel room. you’re both so similar, and yet not at all.

and when he’s about to turn and go, your fingers reach out to tug at the hem of his jacket sleeve, almost effectively making sae’s heart leap out of his chest. your eyes are still shut, so there’s no chance you’re actually conscious right now. still, your mouth opens.

“stay with me?”

sae stills. do you know it’s him? or do you think he’s otoya? either way, you and bianca really are similar, even when you’re not completely awake. so why… why are his reactions so different?

it’s not like he has anything on tomorrow, so it’s really no imposition.

before he knows it, he’s sitting on the floor, right next to where you sleep on the bed, your fingers enveloped in his palm, his head propped on the mattress, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

it’s been a messy week; trying to gather his thoughts about you every single time he’s free, having to talk to bianca and thinking about that, and then coming back just to see oliver and otoya so close to you that it bothers him a little. finding out about you and otoya takes the cake, though.

how special is otoya to you?

the question lingers unanswered as he drifts to sleep, both of you subconsciously finding comfort in the other’s innocent warmth.

the next morning when you wake up, you’re half shocked half happy to find sae where he is, sleeping there peacefully, the previous night’s exhaustion dissipating from his face.

did he take care of you last night? you can only hope you didn’t puke in front of him. that would be embarrassing.

you’d like to stay, wait for him to wake up and talk to him and make sure you didn’t say or do anything too out of line because your memory’s a little foggy, bits and pieces that you can’t quite piece together or even tell if they’re real or dreams.

but you can’t.

you remember what day it is today and reluctantly get out of bed. though, feeling a little cheeky, you quietly grab a small black marker out of the drawer, suppressing a grin as you scribble on sae’s palms, hoping he won’t wake up from this.

a couple hours later, by the time sae gets up, the bed is cold and still undone. it’s already noon, and somehow the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up is you—are you already home? did otoya send you?

but the question that pops up in the forefront of his mind when he sees otoya lazing around on his couch later on is none of that.

and to be fair, otoya has the very same question in his head.

“do you like her or something? y/n.”

otoya is the one to ask, eyes still glued onto his phone screen, typing something out. sae can’t help but wonder if he’s talking to you. 

“what’s it to you?” sae asks. he can hear the snores of the other guys coming from otoya’s room.

otoya shrugs. “just curious. she’s my best friend after all.”

there’s a certain possessiveness in the way he says it that rubs sae the wrong way. still, sae supposes that if otoya’s your best friend, he shouldn’t be too impulsive with his words.

“maybe i like her,” sae says, the tension in the air getting thicker.

“in what way?” otoya still hasn’t looked up from his phone.

“same way you do.”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

otoya scoffs, both of them acting coy with one another. “bianca and y/n, huh? busy guy,” otoya sighs, tossing his phone aside and getting up, walking towards sae, hands in his pocket. both of them are staring the other down, feeling the situation out. “i think i suit y/n better, you can have bianca.”

now it’s sae’s turn to scoff, sharp eyes piercing through otoya’s own. “why don’t we let y/n decide for herself, huh?” he quips, before grabbing his car keys out of his pocket and leaving through the front door.

as he settles down in his car and turns the engine on, it’s only then that he realises the black marks on his palm. 

thank you ᡣ𐭩

somehow, just one look at it is enough to ease the tension on his shoulders.

you really can do wonders.

extras !

otoya’s hostility towards sae was intentional.

sae didn’t try to wash your writing off—he let it fade away naturally.

if yn was sober, she would’ve not been as straightforward as he was in the room with sae. but she definitely would’ve flustered sae a lot more with her playful personality.

the whole time, oliver was live recounting the events of the night to miss manager, all of which are left on read.

if bianca had been there, sae would have been a lot more cautious about his actions and probably wouldn’t have acted too close to y/n.

random fact #1: otoya plays bass, used to perform in a band back in university. part of how he got so many girls interested in him but he was always with y/n which made a lot of them unhappy.

random fact #2: sae has never really been jealous before so now that he’s feeling it, he’s a lot more sensitive to it than normal people.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #blue lock x you #itoshi sae #itoshi sae imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

[rollingsins]

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p3

P1 | P2 | P3

summary: Sam falls, a little harder. Tara formulates a plan. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Implied sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 4.3k

a/n: enjoy babes! let me know your thoughts, as always

Quinn’s touch scalds. 

She’s all rough hands and wild lips, moving quicker than Sam’s alcohol-addled brain can keep up with. 

Sam remembers moaning. 

She remembers the fascination: soft, warm, wet. 

She remembers Quinn looking over with heady eyes, and pressing the softest kisses to her lips before she drifts off to sleep. 

And she remembers thinking: Tara’s going to kill me. 

-

When Sam wakes, she immediately wishes she hadn’t. 

It's like a knife through the brain. Dry lips, dry throat. Her neck aches, though she isn’t sure why. 

And then she feels a very different ache, somewhere else. 

Her eyes shoot open. 

Memories flood back to her. The night. The wine. Quinn. 

Fuck. 

“Morning, you,” Quinn purrs as she nudges her head between Sam’s legs, “Thought I’d help myself to some breakfast.” 

Sam panics. 

She almost throws Quinn off the bed in her effort to retract, as if Quinn’s touch burns her. 

“Stop.” Sam says, drawing her legs over the bed. 

She stands, and then realizes she’s completely naked. Her cheeks burn, and she hastily reaches for her bathrobe. She tilts it around her body, arms crossed. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, Sam,” Teases Quinn, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.” 

“Fuck,” Sam says. She had it right last night: her sister is going to murder her, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Quinn sits up, a little uneasy. 

“Okay,” Says Quinn, slowly, “Now you’re starting to hurt my feelings. What’s wrong? Sam? Talk to me.” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sam says, urgently. Her mind is racing faster than she can speak. Panic surges within her chest, revulsion burns deep in her stomach - though, in all fairness, that might be the hangover. She pushes it aside, “God, we shouldn’t have done this-” 

Quinn tilts her head. A flash of hurt flickers through her features. 

“Okay…” Says Quinn, “But we did. And it was amazing. Wasn’t it?” 

It was. 

But that’s neither here nor there. 

“God, Quinn, that’s not the point-” Sam hisses. She touches her head, flinches at the pain coursing through her body, “We shouldn’t have slept together. I’m straight, for god’s sake-” 

“Yeah,” Quinn says, narrowing her eyes, “You looked real straight last night with your fingers inside my-”

“It’s time to go, Quinn,” Sam interjects, “You’ve got to go before Tara sees you-”

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Quinn protests, reaching out to touch Sam’s arms. Sam flinches away. 

“Sam-” 

“Quinn.” 

Quinn blinks.

“Stop it,” Sam snaps, “You need to go. Now. Right now. Get your clothes, you’re leaving.” 

Quinn stares a moment. 

“Fine,” She says, reaching for her shirt. She gets up, completely naked, and Sam averts her gaze. 

Quinn stands for a moment and it looks like she wants to say something. 

But she doesn’t.

Sam’s heart drops as she realizes what’s about to happen. 

Quinn’s going to put on her clothes and go barging into Tara’s room. 

Wave Sam around like a trophy she’s conquered. 

A Carpenter sister, she’d brag, I finally got one. 

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? 

But she doesn’t.

Quinn pulls her clothes on, eerily silent. 

She leaves with a final mournful look towards Sam, and a quiet shut of the door. 

Sam sighs with relief. 

She drops the robe and heads back to bed and hopes when she wakes, this nightmare will be over. 

-

It isn’t. 

Tara’s looking at her a little funny when Sam finally emerges from her bedroom, near noon. 

You’re sitting next to her, arm looped around her waist. 

“Hey Sam,” You say, tilting your head, “How are you feeling?” 

Sam looks over, a little confused, “How am I feeling?” She asks. 

You tilt your head towards the empty wine bottle on the coffee table. 

“You didn’t drink all that alone, did you?” You ask, question in your voice. Tara narrows her eyes. As if she stares at Sam hard enough, the truth will come spilling from her lips. 

“I feel fine,” Sam lies, “How was your night?” 

“It was a little hard to sleep,” Says Tara, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, “With all the noise coming from your bedroom.” 

Sam purses her lips. 

“Guess you finally know how it feels, Tara,” Sam says, a little grouchy. 

Tara folds her arms. 

“Who’s the guy?” You ask, tilting your head, “Is he still here?” 

Sam takes a long swig of water. 

“Nope.” Is all she says. 

You hum. 

“It’s just… well, Tara and I- we didn’t think it sounded like there was a guy at all in there,” You say, treading carefully. 

Sam freezes. 

She looks over at you, trying to mask the guilt in her eyes. 

“You think I just masturbated myself to sleep?” She asks, voice wry. 

“Don’t be gross, Sam,” Tara snaps, “We know you were banging a chick. Who was she?” 

“Tara,” You hiss, smacking her, “Subtle. We said subtle.” 

Sam swallows. 

You offer her a kind smile. 

“You can tell us, Sam, there’s no judgment here,” You say, “We think it’s good you’re experimenting with your sexuality, isn’t that right, Tara?” 

Tara looks over at you, aghast, “No,” She says, and then winces as your elbow juts between her rib, “Ow- babe-” 

“It’s just- we wanted to check that person isn’t Quinn Bailey,” You interject, hurriedly, “Because we love you, Sam, and we don’t want her taking advantage of you.” 

Sam sighs, heart in her throat. 

You’ve got her now, she knows. Because who else would it be? 

“Girls,” She tries to steer, “I can look after myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“That isn’t a denial,” Tara says, flatly, like she’s caught her, “Sam, please tell me you’re not serious. Please tell me you haven’t completely lost your mind.” 

“Tara, it doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Sam says, “Leave it alone, please?” 

Tara huffs, frustrated. 

“It has everything to do with me,” She says, “Your poor dating choices already got me stabbed once, remember?” 

She lifts up her shirt to punctuate her point. The car from where Richie had stabbed her trawls along her abdomen. 

“I’m not dating Quinn,” Sam says, with a roll of her eyes, “I was feeling lonely last night and I made a mistake. Okay? Happy?”

“No, not happy,” Says Tara, “I want you to cut ties with her, Sam. I want you to tell her you won’t tutor her anymore.” 

Sam grits her teeth. 

“That’s not going to happen, Tara,” Sam says. 

“Make it happen, then Sam,” Tara insists, “I mean it. You’re banned from seeing her.” 

Sam’s eyebrows fly into her hairline. 

You shift, then sigh. 

“I’m banned from seeing her?” Sam asks, lips curled, “Banned?” 

Tara nods. 

“You heard me,” She says. 

Sam refrains from laughing. 

Instead, she reaches into the kitchen cabinet for an aspirin. She retrieves an empty bottle and sighs. 

“I’m going to CVS,” She says, with a mumble.

“Sam,��� Tara says, “Promise me.” 

“No, Tara,” Sam says, “Back off, alright? I don’t tell you what to do with your love life. Don’t tell me what to do with mine.” 

She grabs her coat, and slings it over her shoulders.

Tara’s hands ball into a fist. 

“She’s using you. You have to know that, right?” Tara calls as Sam walks out the door, “You’re her consolation prize.” 

Sam slams the door. 

And you round on Tara. 

You smack her, lightly, across the arm. 

“Ow.” 

Tara looks up at you with wide eyes. 

“This is your fault.” You hiss.

“My fault?” She asks, in disbelief, “My fault?” 

“I told you to be nicer to your sister and now look at what you’ve done. You pushed her right into Quinn’s arms!” 

You reach out to smack her again. 

Tara pulls back, outraged. 

“That girl is like a piranha, you said it yourself,” She says, voice hot, “Sam could be a nun and married to Jesus Christ himself and Quinn would have still have her face down in the pews of some church.” 

You blink. 

“Oh,” You say, “Is that right? She’s that irresistible, is she Tara?” 

Tara groans. 

“Don’t turn this on me, baby,” She whines, “I karate-d her for you, remember?” 

You let out a puff of warm air, arms crossed. 

Tara looks over at you, a little helpless. 

“What do we do?” She asks. 

You sigh. 

“I’m not sure we can do anything,” You admit, “Sam already knows everything. And… she’s kind of right, Tara. You can’t ban her from seeing Quinn.”

Tara looks over, a little unhappy. 

“That’s unhelpful, babe,” Tara says, “I need you to go into psycho mode. Like when Quinn was hitting on me.” 

It’s your turn to glare.

“I did not go into psycho mode,” You say, voice hot, “You were the one who put her in a headlock.” 

Tara sits down, shoulders tight. 

“Somehow I don’t think putting her in a headlock is going to keep her away from Sam.” 

You settle down next to her, rub her arm. 

“Look,” You say, with a sigh, “You’re right, Quinn’s using her. And Sam will see that, eventually. She said it herself - it was a mistake. Maybe we don’t have to do anything.” 

Tara huffs. 

“Quinn’s going to hurt her, YN,” She says, “Like Richie did. Sam’s never had a you. Just shit-head boyfriends who break her heart.”

You take her hand. Ignore the inappropriate flutter that settles in your belly at her words.

Tara thinks, hard. 

“We need a plan.” She decides. 

“Tara-” You protest, but Tara jerks away from you, the expression on her face final. 

“Babe, you told me to be nicer to Sam and so I’m doing it,” Tara says, “I’m going to protect her. From that - walking bear trap.” 

“Tara, I meant saying please and thank you,” You say, pointedly, “I meant you not icing her out over stupid arguments.” 

“This is better than that,” Tara insists, “Anyone can say please, only a sister can stop you making the worst decision of your life. Please, babe. We have to do this. For Sam.” 

You sigh. 

Quinn Bailey is a menace. You’ve seen it first hand. And you love Sam. You don’t want to see her hurt anymore than Tara. 

“Fine,” You say, a little reluctantly, “For Sam.” 

Tara presses a quick kiss to your lips and then pulls back, looking determined. 

“Operation Kill Quinn Bailey,” She suggests. 

“No,” You say, “Absolutely not. You’re not-”

“Not for real, babe,” Tara says, “Metaphorically. Operation Metaphorically Kill Quinn Bailey.” 

“It’s a little wordy,” You say, eyeing her. 

Tara thinks a moment. 

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die,” She says, finally, “Like that dumb movie you like, babe.” 

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die,” You repeat, with a grumble, “How come every movie I like is dumb and every movie you like is a masterpiece?” 

“We can’t all have great taste, babe,” She teases, and then stands up, looking stern. 

“If we have a plan, then we need a team,” She says, whipping out her phone, “I’ll call for backup.”

-

Quinn’s not in the library at eight. 

Sam tilts her head and watches the entrance, frowning slightly. 

They hadn’t spoken - not since that morning, though given their last encounter - it shouldn’t surprise Sam. 

Persistent, is Sam’s view of Quinn, doesn’t give up. Ever. 

And yet here she is sitting in the library alone. 

Sam pulls out her cellphone and calls Quinn’s line. 

It rings once, then twice, before dialing out. 

Sam pinches her eyebrows together. And tries to ignore the sinking pit in the bottom of her stomach. 

She had been kind of mean. She’d all but thrown Quinn out of the house in a panic. 

But before she can marinate on that thought, Quinn’s name is flashing across the screen of her phone. 

“Hello?” Sam answers, far too quickly. 

Quinn’s quiet a moment. 

“Hi, Sam.” She says. 

“Where are you?” Sam asks, checking her watch, “We said eight every night.”

“I figured you didn’t want to see me, anymore,” Says Quinn, “Not after last night.” 

Sam pauses. 

“Last night was…” She hesitates, “A mistake. But it doesn’t have to get in the way of your tutoring.” 

Quinn sighs. 

“I think it already has,” She says, “Bye, Sam.” 

And then she hangs up. 

-

Sam cooks dinner, feeling a little glum. 

Last night had been a mistake. She didn’t expect it to go so far, with Quinn. 

For all accounts - Quinn refusing to tutor with her should be a good thing. 

Right? 

Instead, Sam feels as if she’s just been dumped. 

“Are you alright, Sam?” You ask, leaning over the kitchen counter, “You seem… a little down.” 

“Fine,” Sam answers, transferring the salmon onto the plates, “Could you please get Tara for dinner?” 

Dinner’s awkward. 

Sam knows Tara wants to say something. She’s fizzing in her seat, barely touching her food. Look of contemplation on her face like she wants to say something that might get her in trouble. 

Sam sighs. 

“Tara, just say it,” She says, sounding tired. 

Tara crosses her arms. 

“I think I said all I needed to say this morning.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“Perfect,” Says Sam, “Are you going to eat?” 

Tara thinks. 

“I just want to know, Sam,” She says, “Do you seriously think Quinn slept with you for any other reason than to get back at me?” 

You touch her arm. 

Sam sighs. 

She drops her fork. 

“If you must know, Quinn doesn’t want to see me anymore,” Sam says, with a growl, “Not after I kicked her out this morning. So, I guess you got your wish, Tara.”

Tara blinks. 

You reach out to touch Sam’s hand, “Sam, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Says Sam, “Can we please just eat and stop talking about Quinn Bailey?” 

“Alright.” Tara says, voice even. 

She tilts her head. 

“This food is… good, Sam.” Tara says, voice a little gruff. 

You side eye her. 

Sam looks up. 

“You haven’t even had a bite.” She says, pointedly. 

Tara scoops up a mouthful of Salmon and chews it, somewhat obnoxiously. 

“Good,” She says, mouth full “Really, good, Sam.” 

You rub her arm. 

Bless her for trying, even if her attempt is a little unnatural. 

But Sam’s in a bad mood, clearly. 

She stands, quite abruptly. 

“I’m just going to eat in my room, I think,” She says, after a moment, her eyes sad, “I’ll see you guys later.”

She takes her plate, and you just watch her go. Shoulders tight, lips pursed. 

You sigh as Sam quietly shuts the door, rubbing your eyes. 

But Tara looks pleased. 

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die is a success,” She says, happily when you shoot a look over at her, “Don’t give me that look, babe, you know you’re happy too.” 

You consider this. 

Quinn cutting ties with Sam is probably the best of all the outcomes, regardless of Sam’s mood. 

“I suppose,” You say, and bite your lip, “Be extra nice to Sam this week, okay babe? Why don’t we cook for her tomorrow night? Make her feel special.” 

Tara nods. 

“Alright babe,” She says, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Anything for you.”

She thinks for a moment. 

“And for Sam.” 

-

Sam toils overnight. 

Sleep doesn’t come easily, tossing and turning and throwing pillows against the wall in her frustration. 

Near three, she picks up her phone. 

Sam doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep, or the burning sadness in the pit of her stomach - but whatever it is, dials for her. 

“Sam?” Quinn asks, a little groggy, “Are you okay?” 

She shifts, and Sam just blinks into the darkness. 

“Sam, it’s three AM, what’s wrong?” Asks Quinn, with a little more urgency. 

“I-“ Sam says, and she pinches her eyebrows together, “Sorry. Nothing's wrong. I just… wanted to talk to you.” 

“Okay,” Says Quinn slowly, “About tutoring? Because, Sam-“ 

“Not about tutoring,” Sam says, “About… the other thing.” 

Quinn pauses. 

“The sex thing?” She asks. 

“Were you sleeping with me because you couldn’t have my sister?” Sam asks, unable to keep the thought to herself any longer.

Quinn huffs. 

“Fuck you, Sam,” She says, “Fuck you.” 

“That’s not an answer,” Says Sam. Her nails dig into the skin of her thighs, a little fearful of the answer. 

“No,” Says Quinn, “I wasn’t sleeping with you because I couldn’t have Tara. Happy?”

Sam blinks.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” She says, swallowing. 

“Then don’t believe me,” Says Quinn, voice flat, “It’s not like we’ll see each other anymore anyway. Goodnight Sam-“ 

“Don’t hang up,” Sam whispers. 

Quinn pauses. 

Sam closes her eyes, the blood rushing to her ears. 

Quinn is a question mark. But Sam’s lonely and sad and she knows there’s only one thing that will get her to sleep tonight. 

“Would you come over?” 

-

You wake up to Tara between your legs, smiling down at you devilishly. 

“Morning baby,” She says, smile wry, “I dreamt about you.” 

You sigh as Tara presses her lips to your neck, her hands moving down to run down the length of your thighs.

“And what was I doing in this dream?” You ask, voice husky. 

Tara smirks. 

“You were on your hands and knees,” Says Tara, “Which is where you’ll be in about thirty seconds-“ 

Your stomach flips. Your mouth falls open. 

Tara smiles, and  takes your stunned silence as an opportunity to pull your sleep shorts down your legs. 

Arousal floods through you. 

You take her lips in a searing kiss, pulling her shirt over her head. 

And then you hear a moan. 

You pause, retracting from Tara, slightly. 

She’s confused too, tilts her head to figure out if she’s heard wrong. 

But then you hear another moan. 

This is a moan you know. 

One you’ve had the unfortunate experience of hearing before. 

It’s Quinn Bailey. 

“Motherfucker.” Tara swears, and her attention is no longer on you. 

She grabs her shirt, cheeks flushed in anger as she climbs out of bed. 

This time it’s Sam who moans. 

You groan, falling back into the bed. 

“How has this happened?” Tara asks, running a hand through her messy hair, “We go to sleep and Sam’s done with her, and then we wake up and Sam’s doing her.” 

“Let’s not overreact-” You attempt, but Tara huffs, shaking her head and pacing up and down your tiny room. 

“Relax, baby,” You say, trying to pull her back down. She’s glaring at the wall between the bedrooms as if it might melt. Potentially take Quinn in the process. 

“Why don’t we go to brunch?” You suggest, biting your lip, “We can go to that little place that does the Mickey Mouse waffles you like.”  

“Now is not the time for brunch,” Tara growls, “I’m going to go downstairs and pull the fire alarm.” 

“That’s illegal,” You say, holding her arm to stop her standing, “Not to mention ridiculous. You can’t stop Sam having sex, Tara.” 

“I don’t care about Sam having sex, babe, I care that’s it with Quinn.” 

She looks over at you, a little helpless. 

“What do we do?” 

Sam moans from the next room. Quinn grunts. Your bedroom table shakes, slightly. Tara looks as though she might punch a hole in the wall and drag Quinn through by her hair. 

You rub her back. 

“Come on, don’t stress about it,” You say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. And then you think. 

“Why don’t we do that thing you’ve been wanting to do?” You suggest, biting your lip. 

You had been saving it for a special occasion. 

But right now it’s the only thing you can think of to take Tara’s mind off Quinn and Sam. 

Tara shakes you off, looking stressed. 

“Babe, you want me to fuck you in the ass while my sister is getting nailed by Quinn Bailey in the next room?” She asks, agitated. 

You sigh. 

“I suppose not,” You mumble. And then you stand. 

“Come on, Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die is back on,” You say with a grumble as a particularly loud chorus of moans sounds from Sam’s room, “Let’s rally the troops. They’ll be done when we get back. Surely.” 

-

“You told her to what?” Tara hisses, across the table of the diner you’re all crammed around. Her Mickey Mouse waffles remain untouched. 

You have a hand on the small of her back, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. 

And so far it isn’t working. 

Mindy, Liv and Chad are here to help enact her operation. 

The ‘Ghostface Hunters’, Mindy had called you. 

The ‘Quinn Killers’ Tara had corrected. 

“You told her to sleep with Quinn?” Tara says, aghast. 

Mindy huffs. 

“I didn’t think she’d actually do it,” Groans Mindy, “I thought Sam was strictly dickly.” 

“Never underestimate the charms of beautiful woman,” Says Liv, quite seriously and Chad nods, “If I didn’t have Chad, I’d probably sleep with her too.” 

Chad smiles, as if the thought is appealing to him. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Why is everyone going goo-goo-ga-ga for her, she’s not even that pretty,” You huff. 

“It’s not about being pretty, YN,” Says Mindy, with a shrug, “It’s a confidence thing. Women like  being pursued. Quinn’s good at pursuing. The world’s her oyster.” 

“Back to Sam,” You say with a huff, “What’s the plan? We need her to know Quinn is using her.” 

“Why don’t we just tell her?” Asks Chad, looking confused. 

Tara huffs. 

“Thanks genius,” She says, “We already tried that, obviously.” 

“We could plant drugs in her backpack to get her kicked out of NYU.” Suggests Liv, happily, “Chad knows a guy.” 

“Let’s try to keep things legal.” You intervene, hastily. 

Chad furrows his brow. 

“If it’s Tara she wants, why don’t we just give it to her?” He says, after a long moment. 

You blink. 

Bile rises from your stomach and settles in the back of your throat.

“Excuse me?” You ask, voice a little hot. 

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Says Mindy, “We know Quinn wants Tara, right? And that’s the only reason she’s going for Sam?”

Chad and Liv both nod. 

You cross your arms. 

“Yeah, so? She’s not getting Tara.” You say with a bite. 

Mindy rolls her eyes. 

“And she won’t YN, relax.” Mindy says, “But if she thinks she might have a shot with Tara- then boom! We send her a few flirty text messages, get her to agree to send some back and send the evidence to Sam.”

Tara thinks. 

“Isn’t that a bit mean-spirited?” You ask. The thought of your girlfriend sending sexy texts to anyone who isn’t you has you feeling like you want to punch something, “If Sam actually likes this girl, she’s going to be heartbroken.” 

“Better her be heartbroken now than before she has time to actually fall for Quinn,” Mindy says with a shrug, “What do you say?” 

Tara looks over at you. 

“It’s not the worst idea, babe,” She says, with a murmur, “I mean, if it proves to Sam Quinn isn’t serious about her, what can it hurt?” 

“I don’t want you sending nudes to other girls,” You say, voice tight, “I don’t care if it isn’t real.” 

“Not nudes, babe,” Tara assures, “Just messages. Mindy can send them from my phone. That way it isn’t even me.” 

The group is looking at you, a little expectant. 

“Maybe we should revisit the drugs.” You say, trying to quell the raging tide of fire within your chest. 

Tara kisses you. 

“You asked me to look out for Sam,” She says, “This is me doing it. This is me protecting my sister.” 

Her eyes are wide, like the chocolate buttons scattered across her Mickey Mouse waffles. 

“Please?” She asks. 

You sigh. 

“Fine,” You agree, but you’re not overly happy about it, “Mindy sends them. I don’t want you talking to her.” 

“Deal,” Says Tara, and she seals it with a kiss, “We’re going to get rid of this sex-pest once and for all.” 

“Should we do it now?” Asks Chad, “While Sam’s still with her? With any luck, she’ll see the message.” 

“No,” Says Mindy, “It’s too obvious. We need her alone. If Quinn knows Sam’s around she won’t bite.” 

“She’ll bite,” Liv promises, “Tara is hot.”

It’s Tara’s turn to rub your back. 

You shoot a deathly glare to Liv. 

“To gay girls,” Liv clarifies quickly, “She’s hot to girls who are into that.” 

“This will be good, babe,” Tara says, pressing her lips to the shell of your ear, “For Sam. This will be good for Sam.” 

-

When Quinn’s finally done with her, Sam is a sweating, heaving mess. 

Her body aches, pleasantly. Quinn nestles into her side, tugs Sam’s comforter around both of their bodies. And then presses a lingering kiss to her neck. 

“Is this going to be us?” Quinn asks, voice a tease, “I’m your midnight booty call?” 

Sam hesitates. 

“Sorry,” She says, “I’ve never done this before. Not with a girl.” 

Quinn’s lips purse. 

“Me neither,” She assures, voice soft, “But I think we’re getting the hang of it.” 

Sam hums. 

“My sister thinks you’re using me.” She says.

Quinn sighs. 

“I know,” She says, “I know she’s your sister and all, but I think she thinks a little too highly of herself.” 

Quinn looks up at Sam, blue eyes wide. 

“I fuck a lot of guys,” She says, voice soft, “But I don’t often fuck them twice.” 

She lets it hang. 

Sam frowns. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Sam admits. 

Quinn laughs. 

“It means you must be special,” Quinn says, “Tara? I would have slept with her once.” 

Sam crinkles her nose. 

Quinn grips her hips. 

“I would have slept with her once and then dodged her calls,” Says Quinn, “Because she didn’t mean anything to me. None of them mean anything to me.”

“But I do?” Sam asks, voice skeptical. 

Quinn smiles. 

“You do,” She says. She leans up, takes Sam’s lips in a soft kiss, “I promise.” 

Sam isn’t sure. 

This is all new to her; the girl, the girl-sex, the fact that this girl wanted her sister before she ever laid eyes on Sam. 

But Quinn’s eyes are round, her grip on Sam is tight. 

Her words sound honest. 

It’s been so long since Sam’s had someone be honest with her. 

And so Sam closes her eyes. 

And lets Quinn encompass her.

#all hers #qbmd #scream #scream vi #scream v #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #ghostface!tara #mine #fanfic

[inthepeakymidwinter]

Cruel Summer (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Y/N tries to move on after seeing Thomas with another woman. Thomas comes back after weeks wondering where Y/N went.

Based on this anon ask:

“Hello! Can you please do Tommy is jealous that Y/N is moving on after having a crush on him for years but he was too focused on Grace? He realizes that he loves Y/n more than Grace after seeing her with another man”

Word Count: 2718

TW: drinking, alcohol

(Sorry it took me sooo long! Hope you all enjoy!)

————————————

It’s been weeks since I slept after finding out that Tommy was with Grace. It shook my nervous system in ways I didn’t expect it to. I shouldn’t care as much as my heart actively does. I stopped going outside to water my plants. I stopped eating breakfast and lunch. The only thing I could hold down was tea. It took many days to feel like a person again. The night I caught them kissing at the derby my heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. I hadn’t seen Tommy since that day, and I swore to myself that I wouldn’t plan on it. I ran out of that stadium and never looked back.

Strangely enough as one door closed another began to open. Thomas’ brother John had knocked on the door to my townhome one early morning. I answered the door in my pajamas, with my hair messy and wild, sipping a cup of tea out of one hand. “John?” I asked him, looking ahead of him to see if anyone else was with him. He stood there with a perfectly dry-cleaned suit on and his hair slicked back.

“Have you seen Tommy around?” He questioned; his demeanor was so serious that it almost felt like an interrogation.

I turned furious in an instant. “You really think I’ve seen him? I haven’t been out in weeks. What makes you think he’d be with me?” I shouted.

“Aye come off it. I didn’t mean anything by it. Last time I saw he was off to the woods for some gypsy thing. No one's seen him since…are you okay Y/N?” John asked sincerely.

“I’ll be fine John” I mumbled, looking down at his shiny black leather shoes. I took another sip of tea before I felt John’s hand on my cheek, slowly lifting my head up with his thumb so out eyes would meet.

“I know yer not” He sighed. I shook my head slowly and he rushed himself through the door, making his way into my kitchen. “Y’know Y/N if i had known any better I would have come by sooner…just haven’t seen you around…i thought you’d be coming by the betting shop any day now” He admitted.

“John, I barely make it out of my bed most days what makes you think I’d even make it to the betting shop?” I hissed.

John smiled, then realized what i said and how severe it was. His demeanor changed into a melancholic look, and he walked over to me. “Don’t tell me that” he said with his lips trembling. “Why have you done this, Y/N what happened?” John questioned me.

I looked down at the floor and then back up at him. His brown eyes stared me down until something came out of my mouth. “I just…saw him with her” Tears started to form in my eyes.

“Oh, fook me Y/N, him? You have feelings for him?” John asked. “You deserve so much better than my sorry excuse of a brother. He may be my brother, but he has flaws Y/N. Flaws that you are nowhere near” He told the truth and I believed him for once. I always knew Tommy had big dark secrets. I just didn’t know how bad they were and maybe that was for the best. “We’re going out tonight. You and me, eh?” John insisted, holding my hand as he spoke. I smiled for the first time in a long time. I wasn’t ready but with John i felt like i could take a leap. “Put a nice dress on, I’ll pick you up at 8” John said and kissed my cheek. I blushed involuntarily as I watched him walk out of my townhome confidently. He always had this charisma about him, all of the Shelby brothers did. It was effortless to them.

At around 6:30pm I started getting ready. I put on winged black liner on my eyes, and slipped on a tight black dress with lace trim.

At exactly 8pm just like he said, John arrived in front of my house to pick me up. I decided to walk out of my home and saw John get out of the car immediately. He raced up to the passenger door and opened it for me. “You know I would’ve knocked on your door” He stated.

“I figured, but I was impatient” I smiled back at him.

“Well you look absolutely stunning tonight” John complimented. I nodded in his direction and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“So where are we going?” I asked him with a smile.

“You’ll see very soon” John stated and shut the door once i got in. He drove us to a bar that i had never been to. We went in and he got us drinks right away. I sat quietly in a booth with him as we giggled about old times and drank beer to our hearts content. After a few hours John cursed out of nowhere. “Fook me I forgot to pick up Arthur from the Garrison. Linda’s gonna have my arse” He groaned as he got up from the booth.

“I-It’s okay John I can go with you” I sighed. Maybe John was right. Maybe Tommy didn’t dare show his face in this town anymore.

John nodded at me and went up to the bartender to pay his tab, then we went back to his car and drove to the Garrison. John turned the car off and turned his attention to me. “Are ye sure you want to come in?” He asked politely.

“I’ll be fine John” I placed my hand on his and gave him a small smile. He held my hand for a minute in return before letting go and getting out of the car. He walked to the passenger side and opened my door, letting me get out before he slammed the door shut. We walked into the Garrison with our hands intertwined and John yelled out for Arthur. He was drunk off of his face, sitting at the bar and laughing with a random man I’ve never seen before. And by the looks of Johns confused face, neither did he.

“Alright Arthur come with us. Don’t wanna keep that Linda waiting do we” John spoke, trying to coax Arthur out of his drunken state.

Arthur looked at John and back to his drink then guzzled his entire glass of dark liquor in one go. “I’m waiting for Tommy. He said he’d be back” He slurred.

John groaned audibly, “Arthur, Y/N and I are taking you home. Tommy’s not coming he-“

“He what” Thomas spoke from the bar’s entrance. My stomach turned and I no longer felt happy from all those drinks like I did a minute ago.

Thomas and I exchanged quick glances before his gaze went back to his brothers. John stood in shock for a moment but it quickly faded to anger. “You don’t get to just leave us without an explanation Tom” He growled.

“I never left. Did I Arthur?” Thomas asked and walked up closer to the two brothers.

“Aye. He’s been out with his woman I reckon” Arthur raised his empty glass in support but Thomas grew furious.

“Never said anything like that you drunken bastard” Tommy growled.

“You didn’t have to” John huffed and walked towards me. He motioned to go out the door and i nodded my head in agreement, taking his hand once more.

“Where the hell are you two going?” Thomas roared from behind.

“We’re leaving for the night. You enjoy Arthur” John smiled before leaving the bar with me. I walked out of the garrison with John and felt myself crumbling. I walked the cobblestone street to get to his car and stopped.

“John…I need to go home” I croaked out.

“Y/N Please tonight was supposed to-“ He pleaded.

“John I need to go right now” I huffed, nearly running to the car at this point.

I made it to the car and opened the door myself, hopping in as fast as I could. John got in and slammed his driver side door, turning the car on angrily.

“I didn’t want this to happen” He sighed.

“What?” I asked grumpily.

“Just all of it. Fuckin Tom” He growled.

“Just take me home, John” I mumbled. Completely over seeing Thomas in person. I just wanted to climb into a hole and die.

The ride home was silent. Nothing but John’s breathing and cursing under his breath. It took us 15 minutes until I finally made it home. I made it home and rushed out of the car, slamming the door and storming into my townhouse after unlocking the door. I closed the door behind me and locked it, making sure no peaky ever got in.

I stepped into my kitchen and ran to the cupboard beside my refrigerator. I opened it and took out the bottle of red wine that had been sitting there for months. I went to fetch a bottle opened from the drawer beside it and heard a loud knock at the door.

“Leave me alone John” I shouted and proceeded to open the bottle of wine. I twisted the cork and it popped out of the bottle. Then yet again another knock. “I told you to leave me alone!” I yelled. I sighed deeply and got a wine glass out of my upper cabinets, pouring wine into my glass and taking a large swig.

Suddenly the knocks on my front door grew louder and i couldn’t take it anymore.

I cursed under my breath and stomped to the front door, unlocking it and about to curse out the person behind the door.

“I told you to leave me-“ I yelled until I saw who the person behind the door was. Thomas Shelby in the flesh.

“You can hate me all you want but do NOT get revenge by using my brothers” He argued with his baby blue eyes and perfectly styled dark hair.

“I wasn’t getting revenge anyone. It's something called moving on” I huffed and tried closing the door on him. Thomas held the door open and stared me down.

“Then why go out with John” He asked me with hurt in his eyes.

“It’s none of your business, Tom. Go home” I stated and tried to close the front door again, but it was no use.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” Tommy asked angrily. I wanted to curse him out but instead I took a deep breath and stepped outside on the front stoop with him and shut the door behind me.

“Thomas I’m trying to move on. The same as you did weeks ago with that blonde girl. I’m tired of you being in my life” I huffed and nearly cried. Just a minute later rain started to pour onto us. I felt cold drops trickle down my shoulders and looked down at them sliding down my arms.

When suddenly Thomas asked me, “…Why don’t you want me in your life, Y/N” This time with a fallen face and broken-down demeanor.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I wasn’t prepared to tell him anything about what I saw those past weeks ago. “You need to go Thomas…I-I can’t handle this right now” I croaked and tried to pull myself together.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on” He raised his voice and stared at me deeply with his light blue eyes. The rain had trickled down his head by now, making his dark hair completely wet and straight. He looked good and it just pissed me off even more.

“I never kissed anyone in front of you! Never fucking liked…anyone other than you. And then you go off with other people disappearing for weeks” I cried out and avoided his gaze.

“I didn’t think you wanted me. You ignored me every time we all went drinking. That’s why I went for Grace, but she was using me. Trying to find our guns. Trying to end our company. That’s why I had to leave. I was off the grid” Thomas explained. I sighed and sat on my front steps. Not caring if the rain made me wetter, I just needed to think properly.

“I can't let you go Y/N. Not like this. Nothings started between us. I’ve never got to tell you how I felt” Thomas spoke from behind me.“Y/N look at me” He ordered. I turned to face him, and he stepped down a stair, sitting beside me with his body turned fully towards me.

“I rather die than hurt you. I wish I never did. I don’t want to lose you Y/N” Thomas confessed. I stared at him completely breathless, my hair dripping wet with rainwater. Thomas placed his hands on either side of my face. My eyes closed as I fell into his caress. “Please Y/N” He begged. I started to cry softly, and he wrapped me into his arms. Hugging me with an urgent tightness. I’ve never felt so comforted by anyone like that. “Tell me what you want…be honest, me or John” He gave me an ultimatum. My cheeks flushed a vibrant red color as I left his embrace and stared into his inviting gaze.

“You really don’t know who I like do you…” I asked him.

“I really don’t Y/N…you’re driving me insane right now. Waltzing in with him” He spoke with frustration.

“Me? Like you didn’t drive me to insanity weeks ago? You’ll be fine” I laughed in his face as the rain fully poured down onto us.

“I need you” He spoke, his voice much deeper than it was before.

“And I need a mental vacation but we don’t always get our way Thomas Shelby” I sighed and placed my hands on the stairs, holding myself up.

“Why are you doing this? You just figure when one person finally moves on that you can just come back, and everything would be normal again? You don’t understand how miserable I was because of you. John had to get me out of bed just to be a person again. And you think you can come over once and propose an ultimatum and make everything fine. I’m sick of it Thomas Shelby” I confessed with anger making my blood boil.

“Y/N…I’m sorry. For everything. I didnt know what happened to you. I didn’t even think you cared. No one told me where you went and i had to lay low. I wrote millions of letters i never got to send. I promise I will make everything up to you. Just tell me who you want the most” He pleaded and shuffled closer to me.

“It’s never been John…from the start you were the only person I wanted” I admitted. Getting near his familiar ocean blue eyes was enough for me to become lightheaded. He placed a hand on my wet cheek once more, staring back into my soul like he saw right through me. Rain drops trickled down his forehead making his jaw look even more chiseled.

He carefully placed his thumb on my bottom lip and swiped over it softly. “I’d really like it if you were all mine…permanently” Thomas growled.

“I’ve only been waiting for months” I mumbled out before he leaned in close and kissed me roughly like he yearned for this moment for centuries. The rain came down so hard i couldn’t think straight. I kissed him back. Tasting a mix of my own salty tears and rain water diluting them. I locked my lips against Thomas’ with him repeating back the same way. We shared sloppy, compelling kisses that didn’t stop until we both had to come up for air. When we did, Thomas pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Y/N” He breathed.

“Me too.” I smiled. “Let’s go get warmed up. I have wine waiting inside” I offered.

“Sounds like a dream” Thomas spoke and stood up off of the stairs, grabbing my hand and pulling me up in one go. The night ended with us lying in bed without clothes, overly drunk and tangled in the sheets. His big arms holding me tight as we drifted off into a good night’s sleep.

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby #john shelby fanfic #john shelby x reader

[soulkeeper801]

Setbacks - Chou Tzuyu pt 1

Tzuyu x f!reader

Fluff, suggestive?

The girls find out they are the reason why Tzuyu isn't getting some with you

1.5k words

(italics are for flashbacks in this one!)

Part 1:

The laughter echoing the room surrounded nine girls who were excitedly telling stories that probably would have stayed in their minds if it weren’t for the alcohol in their veins.

“That’s when I knew she was the one,” Jihyo slurred, taking another sip of her beer can, “it was the way her tongue pressed against me that made me just…” she shuddered, gaining tipsy giggles from her friends who had their cheeks tinted pink. 

“I guess I’ll have to try that with Miyeon,” Sana chipped in shyly, getting cheers from the other girls. “I mean, the sex is good but we can always improve it, right?”

Nayeon nodded firmly before turning her head to the youngest of them all. 

“You haven’t said a word,” the older girl pointed out, her eyes squinting at their maknae’s evasive gaze.

“I bet Y/N is really good at it,” Chaeyoung nudged Tzuyu, trying to get her to tell all the nasty details of your love life, “she looks like the kind to be in control, don’t you love that Tzuyu?”

Tzuyu was shy. All the stories her unnies told a couple of minutes ago were hot, really hot. She didn’t know sex could be enjoyed in so many different ways. She wasn’t inexperienced, in fact, she had several ex lovers that taught them all she knew so far. 

However, you were her first girl. It was all new for her.

Since the first time you saw each other, your fate was sealed. The instant connection between the two of you couldn’t be denied, everyone saw it so it wasn’t a surprise when she finally came out to her members and eventually they helped her to get to you. 

You were kind, passionate, she loved the way you made her feel but…

“We haven’t done it yet”.

*

Tzuyu was embarrassed.

No, scratch that. Tzuyu was mortified.

Those words shouldn’t have left her mouth, shouldn’t even have left her mind. It was a split of a second that she lost control of her own actions due to the alcohol and the words simply slipped out.

Eight pairs of widened eyes directed at her, trying to process what their maknae said.

“But…” Chaeyoung carefully replied, “haven’t you gotten together almost four months ago?”

Tzuyu groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Five,” she whispered, feeling her face getting even redder than before.

No one said a word for several minutes, trying to avoid any more awkward moments for her. It was enough that she had told them you two have zero sex life in all those months of dating.

“Well,” Mina said, trying to avoid eye contact, “it’s okay if you wanna wait or if she wants to wait for the right moment, there’s no rush for such things. You can even decide it doesn’t have to happen and it would be totally fine”.

The other girls agreed immediately, nodding to Mina’s words and trying to encourage Tzuyu.

“But…” the youngest replied sadly, “I do want it to happen… I just…”

“You don’t know how?” Jihyo asked, carefully, trying not to cross any more boundaries. 

“I guess I kind of know how,” Tzuyu replied, “I just don’t know if she wants it too”.

A chorus of understanding replies were heard and it relieved a little of Tzuyu's worries.

“Haven’t you talked about it?” Mina asked.

And Tzuyu tried to remember when was the last time you tried to talk it out.

“This movie is weird,” Tzuyu said, lifting her head from your chest and locking her gaze with yours. Her body was sprawled out on the living room couch she shared with her members.

“It is,” you agreed, caressing her waist with the hand that was firmly gripping her side. Your fingertips passed softly over the side of her boob. 

Her breath hitched.

You felt her head find its place on the crook of your neck but this time her arms wrapped your waist as she pushed her hand under your shirt to caress your tummy.

“I’m going to find another movie,” you suggested while pressing a kiss on the top of her head. 

With one hand, you took the remote and kept scrolling through several titles, trying to get an idea of whatever those movies could be about. With the other, you pulled Tzuyu against your body and your fingertips kept drawing patterns on her skin.

She couldn’t help but let the desire run through her body, wishing you could finally and properly play with her now hardened nipples.

Tzuyu didn’t understand why it was so difficult with you. In her previous relationships, the guys she dated couldn’t even wait to feel her up. In less than two dates, they were already under her shirt, trying to open also her jeans button. 

“Wanna go to my room?” she simply asked.

Deep in her heart, she wished it would have come out as a sexy whisper, as a suggestive invitation to do whatever you wanted to do to her. Her mind was foggy with desire for you and the only thing she wanted at that moment was to have you between her legs.

Your gaze found hers trying to decipher what those beautiful eyes were trying to say.

And as soon as you were about to reply, the front door opened, revealing two loud girls with their shopping bags ready to show them what they had gotten from their last spree.

Tzuyu groaned.

“Sorry about that,” Jihyo said, remembering it was her and Nayeon a couple of months ago.

“So you were gonna do it before you got interrupted,” Chaeyoung reasoned, elbowing the youngest, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Were we?” Tzuyu asked, rhetorically. “I mean, I don’t know for sure if she wants it too, I’m just assuming she was going to say yes”.

“Come on,” Jeongyeon replied, “of course she wants it, you just have to see the signs!”

“But what are those signs?” Tzuyu asked again, “when I was with guys, I knew because I could physically see their… you know… but what am I supposed to see when I’m with her? How do I know she also wants it?” she grimaced, shoving her face into her hands once again.

“Haven’t you made out until you give each other that look?” Jihyo asked, trying to see if Tzuyu was missing anything.

“You look tired,” you said softly, noticing Tzuyu getting too comfortable on the floor of their practice room.

“I am,” she pouted, feeling your hands roaming her back, your fingers making pressure right behind her neck. She pushed her head to the side so you could keep going with the little massage you were providing her.

“You are tense,” you said, getting a slight nod from her. “I know what’s going to help you relax,” you proposed, not even giving her a second to react before pressing your lips against the skin of her neck.

A long sigh left her lips. You kissed the side of her neck up to her ear where you whispered sweet nothings as your arms wrapped around her waist.

She turned around and captured your lips with hers. You pressed your bodies together as she pushed you against the wall.

As soon as your back hit the glass, you took the chance to shove your tongue in her mouth, trying to bring her even closer. She let you have dominance and let a soft moan leave her lips.

Your hand made its way up to her chest, ghosting over her clothed boob, when she pushed her chest against you and you finally massaged her the way she was craving. You left a needy groan off your lips when you realized how hard her nipple was and lowered your kisses to her neck.

Tzuyu threw her head to the side to give you more access when your other hand made its way under her shirt. As soon as your fingertips touched her bare skin, your gazes found each other in silent permission. Tzuyu was filled with the desire of having your hands all over her body.

Her eyes were screaming yes, begging you to go ahead and make her feel good.

Until several footsteps were heard outside of the practice room as loud voices approached the door.

You two separated immediately.

“Oh my God!” Jeongyeon screamed, “Could you two stop getting on the way while Tzuyu is about to get some?!” she exasperatedly asked Jihyo and Nayeon, who were trying to suppress their laughs.

“How were we supposed to know?!” Jihyo replied, almost offended.

“It’s okay unnies,” Tzuyu said, almost defeatedly, “the time will come, but I guess it will take time”.

“You two clearly want each other,” Nayeon said, feeling a little guilty she was also getting in the middle even if it wasn’t her intention, “you just haven’t had the chance to go for it”.

Tzuyu shrugged.

“We’ll get you the right time and place, Tzu,” Jihyo offered, getting a hopeful look from her maknae. “Just say the word and we’ll arrange everything for you two and we promise not to interrupt anymore”.

The other girls nodded in agreement, expecting Tzuyu’s answer.

Tzuyu smiled shyly. It wasn’t their fault, yet they were once again going over their own extents to make her happy.

She felt grateful.

“I'd love that,” she simply replied, smiling excitedly.

--

Part 2

#tzuyu x f!reader #tzuyu x reader #twice x reader #twice x f!reader #tzuyu fluff #tzuyu suggestive #twice fluff #twice suggestive #twice imagine #twice scenario #tzuyu imagine #tzuyu scenario #soulkeeper801

[lvrcpid]

disciples.

your eyes fluttered open as the sun peered through the entrance of the mauri. your body ached in all different spots, the feeling almost dreadful.

“you’re awake, how are you feeling?” a voice called from behind you. it was tonowari. wasn’t he the olo’eyktan? why was he here with you?

noticing your confusion, the metkayina man smiled down at you and lifted you up slowly, minding your head in his hold.

“my wife and daughter went out to gather more herbs for your medicine, i offered to watch you until you woke up.” a small smile spread across your face as your looked up at him “thank you..” you spoke softly as he stood up and gave you a curt nod.

“here child, you need to eat” he brought over a bowl of soup for you. you took the bowl and set it down, your appetite not really setting in just yet. tonowari noticed this and sat down in front of you, taking your hands into yours.

“what’s on your mind child? you seem troubled” you hesitated for a while, you didn’t know if to trust him or not. you haven’t had a stable male figure for basically your entire life, you didn’t know how to open up to anyone.

“well i uh..” you stopped yourself, catching your breath before sighing. you had only met tonowari a few times, and those times were genuinely horrifying, he was a big scary man, you didn’t know he could be this kind hearted.

“well it’s my family..” you started, staring down at the bowl , refraining from eye contact. “i was under there for 4 days before they realized i was gone..they probably would’ve gone longer if we’re being honest” you began to choke up. the thought of their betrayal running circles in your mind.

“it’s been like that my whole life..when neteyam was born it was fine for a while, of course he was a baby he needed more attention .. then came lo’ak..then kiri..” you sighed and looked up at him, his eyes softened as he listened to your troubles, the man took pity on you. you were just a child. no child should go through this

“my parents were more worried about them..my brother was to train to be the next olo’eyktan and kiri to be tsakarem..my parents didn’t believe that i was good enough to do any of the important stuff, they wanted me to stay the hunter of the family..so they gave them all of the attention.”

you pulled a small beaded string from your hair and showed it to the man in front of you. “the last time something was added to my songcord was when i was 3, i had to add things myself..like when i completed my right of passage..alone..or when i caught my first fish..alone” you sighed, reminiscing over your childhood, how blank and bleak it seemed.

tonowari listened to it all. all of your troubles, all of your struggles. he was fuming. you were such a beautiful soul, so innocent and curious, how could your own family treat you like this.

you both didn’t notice ronal and tsireya return. the pair both shared a pitiful glance before carefully sitting at your side. ao’nung was standing there the entire time, he hadn’t left for the morning just yet. at first he didn’t like you, you were some forest freak who came intruding on their land, but after hearing your life story, the male felt for you, he felt bad for you.

he sat next to tsireya as they all began comforting you. the feeling was uncomfortable to say the least, but you weirdly felt safe with them, like that lonely void was being filled little by little.

after the conversation, ao’nung came and sat next to you, offering his hand “i know my mom said you shouldn’t leave just yet..but you need some fresh air, i know it can get stuffy in here sometimes”

you hesitated. didn’t he JUST try to fight you not even last week, now he’s being a sweetheart? you thought for a minute, hesitantly taking his hand as he raised you up, walking with you outside.

“hey uh..im sorry about last week and..your entire family, nobody deserves that..even if you are a forest freak” he smiled at you. you rolled your eyes at his last comment but smiled anyways, appreciating the apology.

“hey nung!- woah (y/n)?! where have you been?!” you turned your head to see neteyams friend rotxo, he had been there the day you all had arrived to awa’atlu.

“you know..died..came back to life you know, the regular” you joked. “come on not funny (y/n)” he said. your face went serious “oh no im not joking see?” you pointed to your chest and he almost fainted. “man you’re such a wimp” ao’nung laughed and pushed his friend back up on his feet.

soon eclipse fell onto awa’atlu, the sounds of the ocean waves and forest critters filled the air. you were back in tsahìk mauri with ronal checking up on you.

“you know you don’t have to go back home..you’re more than welcome to stay here with us” ronal spoke, breaking the silence.

“no im okay..i don’t wanna intrude into your family” you spoke, your bones still sore. “nonsense child..it is clear your family has..forsaken you..” ronal trailed off, attempting to be careful with her words. “you are only a child..you need a place to stay..now im not asking..i am telling..” she finished, standing up and looking down at you.

“ao’nung and tonowari will retrieve your things tomorrow..from now on you are staying with us..as a family..i need to keep an eye on you child..” she bent back down and cupped her 4 fingered hand on your cheek.

you felt her warm hands turn into an embrace. you weren’t sure if it was because she was the tsahìk or what but her embrace felt motherly, something you hadn’t experienced. she smelled of flowers and the ocean. a welcoming smell. you held back tears as you softly returned the embrace, mumbling out a quick thank you before breaking the hug. you didn’t want to go back home, you didn’t want to be with that family anymore.

they have the other kids, they’ll be fine without me. i’m pretty sure they don’t even care

when tsireya and aonung heard the news , they were over joyed! ao’nung was finally glad to not be the oldest anymore and he seemingly enjoyed your presence after the day. tsireya was over the moon, she finally had someone who she felt comfortable enough around to tell anything. ronal and tonowari were just as happy, your smiling face after seeing your tearful expression with your family made them happy. they silently promised to eachother they were going to give you the best life you could have.

you finally had a family. a place you were accepted and loved. no matter the conditions.

when news broke to the sullys, they were truly distraught. you felt bad as you stood in their mauri, head hung low as tonowari stood tall behind you.

“you can’t just take our child!” neytiri yelled, walking towards you and attempting to pull you into her embrace. you shook her off and sighed “they aren’t taking me mom..i’m going willingly” the family fell silent.

jake furrowed his eyebrows before moving to a now sobbing neytiri as she attempted to open her arms to you. you moved back harshly as you turned away from her.

“(y/n) you can’t just leave! we’re your family!” lo’ak shouted, stomping up to you and grabbing your hand. you quickly shoved him away and hissed at him. lo’aks face dropped. you never hissed at him before.

“(y/n) come on just think this through..we’re sorry okay? just don’t leave..we need you..” neteyam slid over to your slowly, refraining from touching you seeing as though that was the last thing you needed.

“neteyam stop-“ you felt a body attach itself to your leg. you looked down and began tearing up. it was tuk. she was sobbing. “(y/n) please don’t go! i’ll be good i’m sorry just please don’t go!!” she clung to you like glue.

kiri couldn’t stand to look at you, knowing she would cry at the scene.

lo’ak was now stomping over to his dad and looking back at neteyam “dad do something!!” his voice cracked , almost crying.

jake looked at you with pleading eyes, almost saying “please don’t do this to us”. you stared down at tuk, tears glossing your eyes as you softly moved tuk from your leg and stormed out of the mauri, mumbling a quick “im sorry” under your breath.

ao’nung walked inside and gave his father a look before beginning to grab your things , jake having to hold neytiri back as ao’nung began to grab your things and move them out.

“dude come on..mom! dad! do something!!” lo’ak was now sobbing as he attempted to plead with his parents. but there was nothing anyone could do, you were gone, out of their grasp.

ronal was outside of the mauri and had heard everything, taking your now sobbing figure into her embrace, rubbing your back as you sobbed into her shoulder. she felt bad for you. she knew you wanted to leave, but knew it would pain you to do so.

neteyam had been crying before a wave of anger washed over him. they were your family, how could you just up and leave them like that.

he pushed past ao’nung before storming to where you and ronal were, yelling out “we’re your family!! sullys stick together remember!! this is selfish!!” he yelled purely from anger and hurt.

his words trigged something in you. selfish. you? selfish.

your sobbing began to die down as you turned to neteyam, storming up to him and grabbing his braids, tossing him back into the mauri.

“you wanna talk family? let’s talk family shall we?”

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tags 🏷️ : @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550 @blueberryfailureclinic @jordan-network @newjeansbonnie @stickyfictioninwriting @fanboyluvr @zatarias-pandora @jjkclub @elvyshiarieko @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @adaiasafira @scarletrosesposts @spicycloudsalad @vane28282 @nuttyrebelflower

#Spotify #avatar #avatar x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #kiri x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader

[avocado-writing]

little mage - part 2

notes: this ended up so long. but yall wanted to be patient for porn so here we are lol. sequel to this

words: 5.4k

rating: E

pairing: astarion x reader (no pronouns used, reader has a vulva)

The camp in Wyrm’s Crossing is alive with joy. 

Orin the Red has been killed, the party is one Netherstone closer to getting the tadpoles out of their heads, and everyone’s using it as an excuse for a booze-up. The campfire is roasting a pork loin for the main course and you’ve all gathered around it to enjoy each other’s company before dinner. Tav has their lute out and is playing a raunchy song, much to the group’s delight, and their clear voice fills the night with music and laughter.

Across the crackling embers, they catch your eye and give you a wink. You find yourself grinning. You can see why Gale is so totally smitten with them, their upbeat attitude is magnetic. No wonder they became the impromptu leader of this little group, you could quite easily see yourself following them into battle too.

As Karlach drunkenly sweeps the bard up into her arms with a whoop, you let yourself look around the campsite. Lae’zel and Shadowheart are bickering about something inane, but not with the ferocity they once did - it seems more like banter now than anything. Well, as close to banter as a githyanki can get. Halsin and Jaheira are reminiscing about the ‘old days’, and, next to the High Harper, Minsc is loudly telling a tale of his wild past to Wyll who looks equal parts interested and bewildered.

It is lovely to be part of this little family. You’ve never felt more like you belonged somewhere, amidst this group of colourful oddballs.

And finally your eyes settle on the furthest member of the group.

Astarion rarely lets himself be caught up in the middle of things. He sits at the edge of the circle, quietly swirling a glass of wine which you know he doesn’t really want to be drinking, but does so in order to look like he’s busy. He watches the rest of you laugh and joke and be merry in a way which he can’t quite bring himself to be. 

You wish you could get him to smile. He looks lighter when he does. 

A few days have passed since the… incident in the alleyway, and it’s been enough for the heat to die down both in camp and between your legs. You can look at him without throbbing, now. The two of you haven’t really spoken much outside of quiet morning pleasantries when grabbing a coffee, and those interactions are always around the others. You’ve felt the heat of his eyes bore into you though, and desperately tried to keep yourself from meeting his gaze.

To be honest, you’re glad that you’ve been so busy recently, and that business is keeping you away from Astarion. There simply hasn’t been time to explore things further with him, and you’re not sure you want to.

Well, no. That’s a lie. You do want to, desperately, but you’re worried. Astarion strikes you as being like belladonna: beautiful, but deadly if you let yourself touch.

He is, after all, a two-hundred year old vampire, with all of the baggage that comes with it. And you’re just a little mage.

“Well, seems like someone’s a million miles a–”

You shriek and drop the chicken leg you’re holding to the camp floor. Gale holds up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“My apologies. It was far from my intention to surprise you, especially at the cost of your first course.”

You sigh and grab the chicken, using a quick Prestidigitation to clear off the dirt as Gale takes a seat next to you.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere, which it shouldn’t have been. I know how important it is for a wizard to keep their wits about them.”

He smiles at that. He always does when you remember one of his lessons. He nods to the chicken bone you’re stripping the meat from.

“You’re getting better at that.”

“Eating floor food?”

“Well, that too perhaps, but I was referring to your grasp on magic. It’s much improved since our last lesson.” He looks a little downcast for a moment. “I’m sorry. We haven’t been focussing as much on your studies as I’d have liked - but, well, I’m sure you can understand that I’ve been somewhat waylaid due to an unwelcome guest.”

“Gale!” you say, faux-shocked, “That’s a horrible way to refer to Tav!”

He looks appalled, then realises you’re joking and grins in relief. You give him a friendly elbow.

“I understand. You didn’t ask for any of this, and we can only take each day as it comes. If anything is a reason to put teaching on a back burner, it’s the threat of being turned into an illithid.” There’s a pause. “And Tav is good for you, you know. You smile more now.”

You see his ears go a bit red, even in the low light of the fire.

“Thank you. I’m inclined to agree. They’re so thoroughly… good,” he decides, reduced to wordlessness in his ardour. He turns to you, and his posture shifts a little. Oh no. He is going to try and be Serious.

“And you know, it isn’t wrong to want to find companionship. If there was someone who you…”

Nope, no. You have to stop this. You can’t talk about your love life (or lack thereof) with Gale, it would be like having The Talk with your big brother. The idea makes you panicked and nauseous.

“Besides, Gale,” you say, quickly, interrupting him and steering the conversation back to magic, “what I just cast was a cantrip, I’ve been able to do those since I could tie my shoes.”

Gale seems relieved that you’re on more solid ground, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile.

“Is that so? Well, please, show me something spellbinding. As it were.”

He sits back and waits for you to show off. You run through your prepared spells in your head and settle on one which feels right: carefully, making sure that nobody will get hurt, you reach out and cast a careful Pyrotechnics on the campfire.

Fireworks shoot into the air, exploding into the night sky with colourful whizzes and bangs. The party all looks up and gasps in surprise and delight at the impromptu little display. You carefully shape the spell so as to keep it vertical, change the colours with a wiggle of your fingers, pulling invisible strings of weave until you feel it naturally come to an end. There’s a beat of silence before the campfire erupts in a cheer, Gale grinning proudly next to you.

“Look at you!” he says, slapping you on the back in triumph, “I’m certain that we’ll have an archwizard on our hands in no time.”

You know he’s exaggerating, but your tutor’s praise does make you beam anyway. In between compliments and Minsc’s pleading for a repeat performance, your eyes drift to the outside of the circle.

To Astarion.

And he’s watching. Of course he is. There’s something unreadable in his expression, something which makes you feel hot under the collar.

Oh, gods. This is a mistake.

You’re suddenly aware of how much the centre of attention you are. Everyone’s eyes are on you, boring into you, watching for the next thing you’ll do. 

Astarion’s eyes are on you.

No. You don’t like it. The limelight takes to Tav, not you. You’re a bloody apprentice wizard, not a fabulous bard. The heat rises until it’s eclipsing your face and gods you need to get out of here, now, choking out some half-baked excuse and getting to your feet. 

“Are you–?” begins Gale, but you wave him off and quickly scamper away, heart beating in your throat.

Unseen, Astarion slips after you.

The longer you walk, the quicker you go, the more you calm down. Soon you can feel your panic get under control; yet questions swirl around your mind. What were you thinking, doing something so public? You berate yourself for your childishness only to know the answer is there in plain sight.

You wanted Astarion to look at you. To notice you. Oh gods, you are such a little fool. He’d never be properly impressed with you, ever, and to get wound up about it is–

“Well, someone made quite a scene back there.”

You jump. His voice is like an ice cube being run down your spine, chilling and exciting you all at once. In the forest clearing you’ve found yourself in, you turn to face the pale elf, watching as he leans up against a tree, jealous at how easy he can be in this situation.

“I hope you aren’t too put off by the fact that I followed you as you scurried off… though, judging by the way you were looking at me over the campfire, I don’t think you mind the company.”

Then it occurs to you, oh gods, you’re alone with him again, aren’t you? Far from the camp, just the two of you, and with nobody to watch he can do whatever he wants, you can do whatever you want, and…

“You’re overthinking.”

His words cut like a knife through the thick air between you, and then he’s closing the gap, getting close enough to feel your shaky breaths on his skin, red eyes gleaming. His white shirt seems to be particularly unlaced today, revealing broad plains of perfect alabaster. 

You want to touch him. You can’t move under his gaze.

“I am,” you manage to confess, voice barely more than a whisper. Astarion chuckles, and you want to hear that sound over and over and over again.

His fingers brush your arm and you gasp. His vulpine smile grows wider, looking at you from under hooded eyes.

“Would you like me to help you stop thinking?”

You nod all too eagerly, and he loves it.

His mouth is just as wonderful on yours as you remember. He tastes nice, too, of vanilla this time - you wonder if he sweetens his breath before he seeks you out. You let him lead the kiss. He has far more experience with this, after all, and it shows: the way your tongues entwine makes you moan in anticipation, the soft clack of his teeth on yours a melody unto itself. When he begins to walk you backwards you immediately follow. It’s a waltz, of a kind, something intimate and sensual, and you reel with ecstasy when you feel your back hit the rough bark of a tree.

Yes. Yes, anything. Anything that he wants to do with you, you’ll offer it all up. You’re drunk on him already, head swimming, only after more Astarion, and then you feel his hand press up against your stomach and start to gently sneak in under your waistband, and he is so so close to touching where you need him most, and –

With far more self-control than you ever realised you had, your hands reach out and grab his forearm in a vice-grip.

“No, no. Astarion. Stop.”

He does, immediately, backing away so that he can scan your face. Your chest may be heaving and body thrumming with desire but you’re not so lost in the thrill of it that you can’t see he’s genuinely concerned. His eyes are wide, searching, trying to work out what he’s done wrong. It’s the first time you’ve seen him be unsure of himself - at least in front of you.

“Did I… do you not want…?”

“No, I do. I do, but… gods, look…” this is so embarrassing but you need to say it or it will be buried forever, and any real chance of connection will be lost, “... if this is just sex for you then I don’t want it, Astarion.”

He looks absolutely bowled over by that. His eyes flit across your face as he attempts to read you; he must think you’re trying to trick him. How far that is from the truth.

You carry on. 

“I know… I know you think it might be something you have to do to win me over, or to make me like you. But it isn’t, because I already do like you! I really like you, Astarion. And while, gods know, I want you to take me here on this forest floor, I don’t want this to be some little fling. I want to go out to bookshops with you, and drink coffee, and judge people as they walk by us.” Despite everything he gives a flicker of a smile at that. “I want to hold your hand while we walk places. I want to sit in the park and look at clouds with you. I want to go to sleep next to you, gods damn it, every night if you’ll let me. I want to be there if you need someone on your side. I want… I want all of you, every messy, wild piece of it. So if this is just something physical? I can’t. It would break my heart.”

Astarion lets that little confession settle. He looks utterly gobsmacked, no matter how well he tries to make it seem otherwise. You can tell he’s thinking. That his mind is going a mile a minute trying to work out if you’re being serious, and second-guessing himself when he comes to the conclusion that you are.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

The moment hangs in the air, pregnant with possibility, and eventually he reaches in to kiss you. But it is not all tongues and teeth and hunger this time. It’s sweet. Affectionate. And you love it even more than the ones that came before it.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, little mage?” he asks, voice as light as a feather, caressing like velvet. Another kiss before he pulls back, returning to his typical bravado, sighing as if this is all so much, but with a sincere smile on his face which he can’t quite seem to wipe, “Alright, tomorrow, then. We’ll go out for tea. I know a little place I think you’ll like - chamomile is your favourite, isn’t it?”

Your eyes go wide as you nod. It is. And he just knew that.

“It’s a date,” he grins, and your heart skips a beat.

He’s as good as his word. 

The next day you head to a little café in one of the quieter areas of the lower city, one with quaint outside tables under large gingham parasols, and the two of you sharing a pot of tea while people-watching. He grins at every bitchy comment you make about someone’s dress sense, and when your feet brush up playfully together underneath the table your heart jumps as if you’re a schoolchild again. 

When you finish your cups he indulges you as you go shopping, linking his little finger in yours and letting you pull him along as you go through your new favourite bookstore. He complains but you can tell he doesn’t mean it, not really. He carries your things for you while you let your hands run over the spines of newly-printed tomes, occasionally picking one out and adding it to the pile in his arms. When you’re done, you take the long way back to camp, just to be alone together for a little while longer. 

That night you sit with him by the campfire as you eat, lost in quiet conversation, and you absolutely ignore the way that Gale is grinning and trying to catch your eye because oh gods it’s embarrassing when he’s smug - and then, at night, he retires to your tent with you. You thrill as he wraps you in his arms, burying his face in the nape of your neck and drifting off to sleep. 

A few days go by and you suggest that, whilst you know Tav has let him feed from them for ease, you’d happily volunteer to take the position. He grins, and whispers something filthy which makes your face hot, and you start waking with a pleasant pain over your jugular from the next morning on. 

A few more days on from that, the two of you start kissing in front of the rest of the party. This earns a “yeah, baby!” from Karlach and a good-natured ribbing from the others. You’re insightful enough to know that he likes to show you off a bit, not out of any self-satisfied reason - or at least, not entirely - but because he is genuinely pleased to have you as his paramour. Sitting in his lap at dinner, holding his hand as you stroll through the city, these things become as easy as breathing. Every part of you sings for Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. 

One night, he confides his fear about sexual intimacy for you. You’re so glad you didn’t give into him those times before, and tell him you’re happy to wait as long as he needs. There is no rush for you. It breaks your heart how relieved he looks. 

Were this your regular day-to-day life, a romance would have blossomed slowly. But it is not your regular life. There is no chance to feel emotions other than intensely on the road you tread, to throw yourselves into one another and be known completely. 

When Cazador Szarr dies, you are there. You told Tav you were coming, despite everyone pleading you to stay behind - there was no way you would let Astarion face him without you, and you can tell that he’s secretly relieved to have you there. You sling spells from the back line and pick off his master’s minions, one eye on the vampire lord and the other on your partner. And when the fight is over, and he is offered the possibility of ascension - he looks to you straight away. 

A little shake of your head is all that’s needed to dissuade him from the idea entirely. 

That night he cries and you hold him, so so tightly. So tightly in fact that you’re scared you’re going to hurt him. But he says nothing, he just presses his face into the place where your shoulder meets your neck and weeps, long and loud and raw and intimate. You stroke his hair and wait until he’s exhausted, then lay him down to sleep wrapped in your arms. 

He looks like the weight of the world has been lifted from him the next morning. 

When he takes you to his gravestone the two of you sit, hand-in-hand, understanding how much you have come to mean to each other. It is a sweet and intense love you have fostered, so far from the vampire who would have taken you in that alleyway on the way back from Sorcerous Sundries. 

Well, maybe not that far, because as you leave the cemetery he sweeps you up in a burning kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire. 

Oh. Tonight, then. You can do tonight. 

As you head back to the Elfsong, you get him to pause by the front desk, and he watches as you dish out the coin with shaking fingers to rent a suite for the night. You have no intention of going back to the party’s shared floor. When he realises what this means, Astarion is half elated and half trepidatious as the two of you ascend the stairs to your private room. 

“My sweet,” he says, eyes blazing salaciously but sincere in his words of comfort, “you know that we don’t have to…”

“I know. But I want to,” you tell him, utterly sure, “but only if you want to, as well. I know how you feel about… all this. If there’s even a single doubt in your mind, then—”

He kisses you so fiercely that the breath is stolen from your lungs. You don’t even realise he’s taken the keys from your hands until the door swings open and the two of you tumble back into the room, into bed. 

His mouth is hot and delicious, kissing every inch of your skin he can find. Little nips of fangs only serve to excite you. He is thorough in his exploration; lavishing attention only onto what is exposed, and it leaves you a mewling mess beneath him. 

“Astarion… please,” you beg. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he looks up at you from your chest, your sternum aching pleasantly from his ministrations. 

“Please what, little mage?”

Oh, he knows how it excites you when he calls you that. Without even thinking, your hips rut up into his. He smiles in hunger and delight. 

“Use your words, my love.”

“I need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

This seems to satisfy him, and he tugs at your shirt until it becomes untucked from your waistband, slowly lifting it until you take it off properly. Chest bared to him for the first time with the promise of lovemaking, he slowly reaches to take a nipple in his mouth and sucks. You moan and cant beneath his body, letting his teeth graze your areola, allowing his fangs tease the soft skin he finds. When his hand reaches up to touch your lips you let them fall open easily, letting him fuck your tongue with his fingers. 

“Good… you’re so pliant, aren’t you? Naughty little thing. Desperate for me.”

This talk is driving you wild. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. You throb, actually throb, and moan as he reaches for your trousers. It’s an easy shucking and oh gods he’s taken your underwear too and then you’re lying there, bare beneath his gaze. 

He looks you up and down. Your chest heaves. 

“Like what you see?” you want it to be playful, but instead it’s full of nerves. You really, really hope he does. If your body is anything less than desirable to him you’ll be shattered. 

He senses the worry in your words and, rather than continue his work on your chest, reaches over to kiss you, slow and sweet. It’s a kiss you know well, one you’ve given him a dozen times over: a kiss of reassurance. 

“You’re divine,” he whispers. A thrill runs up you. This man - this man, who could have been carved out of marble by the gods themselves - thinks you’re divine. A surge of courage runs through you and you sweep him in for another kiss, taking his hand in yours and guiding it down your body. 

When he first touches between your legs you think you might explode. His long, dexterous fingers slowly spread you open, running along the soft seam of your cunt. You find yourself reduced to jelly, a quivering mess as he explores you for the first time. His touch is gentle, reverent, careful; his fingers find your sweetest spot and rub there for a moment until you see stars light up behind your eyes.

It’s good. So good. When he presses those fingers inside you gasp a little but he is attentive to what he does. There is no urgency as he slips in one, then two, slowly pumping you as you hope he plans to with his cock later. Your legs spread and he settles between them better, lavishing your skin with kisses and your ego with praise. 

“So lovely… so wet. I’m going to make this good for you. I’m going to empty your head of every piece of magic you know, you gorgeous thing, and replace it only with the feeling of this.”

At that he crooks his fingers upwards and you squeak as he hits a spot that sends electricity along every nerve in your body. 

“Astarion—!”

“Yes, that’s it.” He drops a kiss to your shoulder and continues his work, fucking you with his fingers. He slips in a third when he feels you’re ready enough, and when his thumb presses into your clit you know you’re hurtling towards the first orgasm someone else has ever given you. 

It’s magnificent. It’s syrupy and sweet and shocking, crashing over your body like a wild tide and dragging you out to sea with it. You come all over his hand and ride it out, pressing your cunt down into his palm and rutting up against it like a dog in heat. Astarion smiles, and though it’s lustful and heavy-lidded you can see the genuine affection for you there too, a true happiness that you’d give yourself to him like this. 

When the feeling has passed he kisses you before slowly removing his fingers and pressing them into his mouth. Your eyes go wide. 

“Astarion!” you squeak. He gives a blasé shrug. 

“I wanted to taste you. Can you really blame me? You look delicious.”

Face hot again you do the only thing you can think of: thump him playfully with one of the decorative cushions on the bed. He looks actually shocked at that before he bursts into genuine joyful laughter, and you do too - and it’s good. It’s so, so good. You’re in bed with the man you love and laughing because it’s silly and you feel safe and adored. And it occurs to you: yes, you do love him. You want to keep him happy and safe and in your arms for as long as he’ll let you, which is hopefully forever. 

“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” you point out. He looks down to where he’s still fully dressed, cock pressing achingly against the front of his trousers. 

“I suppose I am. Let’s remedy that.”

You help him remove his shirt, caressing the expanse of smooth chest he reveals, undo the laces of his bottoms and pull him free. His length stands hard and ready in front of you and it gives you a not insubstantial thrill that you’re the one who managed to do this to him. You!

You take him in your hand, carefully, and he groans. Smiling, you let your body take over - pumping him slowly and languidly, as easy a pace as he set with you. He’s a decent size and thick, something you can see fitting quite comfortably inside you. 

Emboldened, you reach forward and lick a stripe up him. Astarion arches as if he’s been electrocuted, and his hands dig into your shoulders to halt you. 

“Oh… did I do something wrong…?” you ask, but when you meet his gaze you don’t find scorn or anger. You find such unbridled, carnal desire you’re overtaken with it. 

“No. Quite the opposite. If you do that I will end up finishing in your mouth. And while it’s a lovely thought - I want this to be about you.”

You release his cock and let it bob against his stomach, moving to give him another tender kiss. 

“It’s not about me. It’s about us.”

He smiles, softly. 

“Indeed it is, my love. Indeed it is.”

He manoeuvres you, carefully, so that you’re lying back on the bed, legs spread open for him as he takes himself in his hand and rubs it against your already orgasm-drenched cunt. 

“Will it hurt?” you ask, suddenly a little scared. This is happening. It’s happening. 

But Astarion is sweet. A kiss is dropped to your shoulder, tender and reassuring.

“If it does, tell me, and I’ll stop. I swear.”

You trust him. You lie back and fan your legs open a little further, letting him press the head of his cock against your entrance and start to slide it. 

It’s an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’re full for the first time, in a different way to his fingers; his cock is thicker and spreads you in a far more lucious way. You gasp as he enters into you, each little thrust of his hips easing him inside deeper, and though it does sting a little the pleasure that he brings is far more easy to concentrate on. 

“Oh… oh…”  is all you can manage, and when you look up Astarion’s eyes are screwed shut in concentration, like he has to actively prevent himself from fucking you with the vigour he wants to. That’s promising. You hope the next night you spend like this will be far more wild, once you’re used to the feeling of him. 

Eventually he sinks all the way up to his base. He groans, cock throbbing inside you, totally sheathed. Together as one. His forehead presses down against yours, and he takes deep and slow inhales he doesn’t need - encouraging you to get your own breathing in sync with his, calm you down and adjust to it. 

Soon you’re used to the intrusion of him, and you nudge your hips up against his. He smiles. 

“And here I thought learning magic required patience. You seem to have none of it.”

“I’m patient when it comes to how to cast a bloody fireball, Astarion. If you don’t start moving now, I might explode.”

He chuckles again, genuine in his glee, and slowly begins to buck his hips. His cock stretches you wider, and his head grazes that sweet spot over and over. Oh, it is delicious. Your body is on fire for Astarion Ancunín and you never want to extinguish it; you want him to keep on fanning this flame forever. You will become a roaring inferno under his touch and nothing has ever seemed more appealing to you. 

“My love,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses as he thrusts, utterly enchanted by you, fangs tracing your throat as your racing heartbeat echoes in it. 

“My love,” he replies in kind, speeding up as he can feel how soaked you’re getting. You cup his face with your hands so that you can see him properly. Oh, Astarion. Your Astarion. The moon in your sky and every star around it. 

Your cunt aches, but not from discomfort but from pleasure. You can tell you’re going to come again soon, and want it to harmonise with his own release, have the two of you crescendo together. If the way his hips are beginning to move arrythmically, erratically, you can sense he’s not far from completion either. 

“Please… inside…” you manage, and oh gods he is gone. His hips stutter as he empties himself inside of you with a little moan, flooding your cunt with hot jets of his release and toppling you over the edge with him. You sink your fingernails into his back, over his scars — those damned scars, scars he’s never going to have to be afraid of again — and cry out your pleasure.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breaths. You need it, he literally doesn’t, but feels he probably ought to take a moment anyway to let you collect your thoughts. He rolls off and lies on the bed next to you, eyes roving up and down your panting, sweat-slicked body. 

You can tell there’s a tiny hint of nervousness in him. A bite of worry that you didn’t enjoy it. To quell his mind you reach over and bring him into a slow, long, tongue-twisting kiss. He noticeably relaxes under you. 

“That was… everything,” you confess. “More of that. Please.”

He laughs. 

“Oh gods, I’ve made a monster. You’re going to be insatiable now, aren’t you?”

You playfully bite the air above his face, baring your teeth like an animal, before grimacing as your newly-abused cunt twinges. You reach between your legs and find him dripping out of you sinfully, but also that your fingers come back coated a little in red. Proof of what just happened. 

Without warning Astarion grabs your wrist and presses your bloody fingers into his mouth, sucking on them with a groan. 

“Astarion!” you shriek with a shocked giggle, reaching to grab the pillow and give him another swipe with it - but he wrestles you back into the mattress, pinning you down playfully. He kisses you again, then, and you feel the affection rolling off of him. Adoration, there’s no other word. Devoted adoration. 

“I love you, my little mage. My heart,” he confesses, in the low light of the inn’s room, face dancing in the moonlight from where the two of you didn’t bother to join the curtains. The words sound odd coming from his throat. As if he’s had no reason to say them for a long, long time. 

You’re glad you were the spark he needed. 

“I love you too.”

Whatever comes next, you’re in it together. 

Dividers by firefly-graphics!

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling (lmk if you want to be added!) and those of you who seemed interested in the original lol: @the-littlest-bruja @ravenswritingroom @piperd06 @thedump1inhere @flustered-fawn @hopeful-n-sad

#astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #request

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | s.h x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: things take a turn the night of the wedding. what happens when you’re back in Hawkins and no longer have to pretend to be steve’s girlfriend?

content: arguing, drinking, kissing (yes you read that right), a few confessions (yes you read that right, too), she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing

word count: 3.7k

a/n: THINGS ARE HAPPENING! BUCKLE UP

_

The sound of clanging cutlery makes your head throb due to the cruel hangover you woke up with. You were currently eating breakfast with the Harrington’s and not to sound rude, but it was the last place you wanted to be right now. 

After the events of last night, you couldn’t get even a blink of sleep. It was already bad enough you told Steve that he shouldn’t kiss you because you wouldn’t be able to sleep, but him agreeing made it even worse. 

It makes no sense to you. 

He must be playing some sort of cruel game, right? He’s probably just stringing you along trying to make you fall for him and when if you do, bam, you’re left heartbroken. 

Steve Harrington can suck it. There’s positively no way you’re falling for him. 

“You alright?” he whispers to you when he notices you moving the food around your plate instead of eating it. “m’fine” you shrug. “Just don’t have an appetite’’ you explain. “Eat something. We have a long day ahead of us” 

“Why do you care?” you snap and his eyes widen. Luckily, his family was too immersed in their  own conversations to pay attention to either of you. “Let’s not do this here, okay? Yell at me when we get back to the house if you want”

“What’s the point? You never listen anyways” you huff. 

This morning was a tad awkward between you and Steve. When you tried to talk about it and clear the air, he just grunted and wanted to brush it under the rug like he always does. Safe to say you were frustrated with him. 

“Whatever, y/n. Just promise you’ll stop acting like this when we’re at the wedding”

“Only if you promise to stop being such a dick”

“Fine”

“Fine”

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t fine. 

_ 

When you had gotten back to the house, neither of you spoke a word to each other. You took a much needed nap while Steve left the house. He didn’t tell you where he was going and frankly, you didn’t care to know. 

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. You cared a teeny tiny amount. 

These past few days have felt so back and forth. Every time you think you’re making progress to the possibility of being friends, there’s a small hiccup and you’re back to square one. You feel like you’ve gotten a glimpse of Steve that you haven’t gotten in a long time, but then the glimpse is overshadowed by him going back to acting like an ass at the drop of a hat. 

Your rumination is interrupted by the sound of the front door closing, alerting you that Steve is back. You go back to doing your makeup until Steve knocks on the bathroom door. “Come in” you answer and he opens the door. 

“We’re leaving in an hour” he states “Then why aren’t you ready yet? You were gone for two hours” 

“I went to my parents to call Robin” he answers. “We have a phone here” you counter. “Thanks, sherlock, but I didn’t really want you snooping in on my conversation” 

“I have no interest in what you have to say considering you have no interest in listening to me” you sigh heavily. “Is this about last night? Can’t you get over that?” You angrily set your mascara down and turn to look at him. “No, it isn’t just about last night. It’s about the entire time I’ve known you, Steve! You are such an asshole to me and I’ve done nothing to you and yes, I wanted to kiss you, but you wanted to kiss me too and it’s driving me fucking mad because you want to act like this whole weekend hasn’t even happened!” you exclaim and hold back a sob. You’d always been so utterly confused about his hatred towards you and this trip has made it even worse. He gives you no explanations, no communication, just avoidance. 

“I have to get ready” is all he says before exiting the room and you groan in frustration. All you want, all you need, is for him to talk to you. It’s like trying to get through a brick wall. Impossible and not worth it. 

You’d never been more grateful for a weekend to almost be over.

_

The wedding ceremony had been uncomfortable, to say the least. You and Steve were squished together in a church pew, leaving no room for distance between the two of you. It was hard to focus on the beautiful event taking place in front of you when Steve’s thigh was pressed up against yours and he had to put his arm on the back of the bench and you had to lean into him for appearances. 

The reception was going better though, partially because of the open bar. You’re currently stood there waiting on your third drink when the bride herself comes up to you. “What did Steve do now?” she asks you. “What do you mean?” you play dumb. “You two have been so lovey dovey this whole weekend and now you haven’t spoken a word to each other tonight. Spill”

“I don’t want to burden you. It’s your wedding night!”

“Consider it a wedding present. Tell me everything!”

That was easier said than done. You couldn’t exactly explain that this entire relationship is fake and Steve has been sending you mixed signals, absolutely doing your head in. “Just a silly fight, I suppose. Nothing serious” you reply. “Alright, I won’t bother you for juicy details, but tonight is all about love and that boy loves you. He’s outside. Go find him, okay?” 

Before you go and find him, you make sure to get him a drink to break the ice. As frustrated as you were with him, you weren’t going to sulk at someone's wedding over it.

“Hey” you mutter when you find him alone outside. “Peace offering” you say as you hand him a drink and he accepts, chugging it rather quickly. 

“Look, I’m sorry ab-”

“No, I’m sorry.” he interrupts “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve it”

“Thank you, but you’ve been really off all day. Is something else wrong?’’ you question and he sighs “My dad keeps harping on me about my job, my apartment, and basically everything else. Says you’re too good for me. I don’t even deserve my fake girlfriend” he chuckles, humorlessly.

“Steve” you whisper, stepping closer to him and putting your hand on his arm “I know we’ve had our differences, but you should be proud of yourself. You could’ve easily had everything handed to you, but you decided to do everything on your own. I think that’s very brave of you”

“You think I’m brave?” his eyes meet yours and you swear there’s a sparkle in his golden irises. “yeah, i do, but don’t let that get to your head, alright?” you joke and he smiles for the first time today. “too late” he smiles. “So we’re okay now? ya know, until you start acting like a dick again” you joke. “Yeah, we’re okay. until you do something annoying again”

You both chuckle and you can’t deny this moment feels nice. Steve seems different, apart from the few arguments you’ve had over the weekend, it feels like there’s a possibility for an acquaintance. Maybe even friends, but you don’t wanna get ahead of yourself. 

“Hey, lovebirds. Get in here, everyone’s lookin for ya” one of the groomsmen says when he finds you and Steve outside. “we’ll be there in a sec” Steve tells him before he disappears. 

“ready?” he asks and you nod, both quickly finishing your drinks before facing the crowd inside. Steve takes your hand and leads you back into the reception. 

Once you’re back inside, you feel a gentle tug on your dress. When you turn around and look down, you’re met with a friendly, familiar face. “hi, penelope! you look so pretty!” you exclaim and she twirls to show you her dress. “you look like a princess! will you dance with me?” she asks. “I’d be honored!” 

“I’m gonna go get us a couple more drinks, okay?” Steve tells you before you’re escorted to the dance floor with your new best friend. 

While Steve waits to order at the bar, he watches you and penny absolutely steal the show. You’re holding hands while twirling around the dance floor and laughing. He notices everyone admiring you, much like he is right now. 

“She sure is lovely, Steve” his mom says when she approaches him. “she is, isn’t she?” he replies and he means it. You have this way about you that makes everyone swoon over you. At first, he found it annoying, but now he might say he finds it endearing. He’s starting to understand why everyone likes you so much. 

As ‘open arms’ by Journey starts to play, he watches your eyes light up and you say ‘I love this song!’. He decides the drinks can wait. 

“Care if I steal my girl for a dance, penny?” he asks, fully expecting her to say no. “fine, but only one dance, mister” she points her finger at him and you both laugh. “I’ll hand her off to you in no time. I swear” he promises before she walks back over to her parents. 

“So, I hear you like this totally cheesy song. Can’t say I’m surprised” he teases and you playfully roll your eyes. “And you wanna dance with me to this totally cheesy song” you rebuttal. “touche” he chuckles. 

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands fall to your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I believe I was promised a drink” 

“Got distracted, plus I don’t need you getting sloppy and stepping on my toes”

“Sloppy?! If anything, my dance moves are even more impeccable when I’m drunk. Did you not see my moves earlier?”

“Oh, I did, unfortunately. You’re really great with Penny, by the way. Must be because you dance the same.” he torments you. “Okay, I’m ignoring that. She’s a great kid, though. Hard to believe you share genes” 

“How would we share jeans? She’s a toddler” 

“Steve” you deadpan, waiting for him to get that you meant genes, not jeans. “Oh” he nods his head once he understands and you both laugh. 

“Do you think that maybe after all of this we could be friends, maybe?” you ask, shyly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, maybe” he answers before continuing “you aren’t completely awful and besides us fighting every other hour, I’ve had fun with you.”

“I’ve had fun with you too, but if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it” you jokingly respond and he agrees. “I don’t entirely hate being around you” he whispers. “I don’t either”

Steve’s eyes flick down to your lips and linger longer than you expected. “stop looking at my lips!” you quietly exclaim. “I'm not! Your lipstick is smeared!” he defends.“I’m not wearing lipstick, Steve” you clarify and his cheeks turn pink. 

“You’re blushing! you were totally looking at my lips!”

“I was not. If I get you a drink will you stop berating me?” he bargains. “Hm, I don’t know. Get me a drink anyways and let's find out.” 

Steve keeps his hand on the small on your back the entire time you stand at the bar. You lean your head on his shoulder, claiming that it’s only because you’re sleepy, but deep down you feel the need to be as close to him as possible. 

“Wanna go back outside? It’s kinda hot in here” Steve asks once you get your drinks. You nod and follow him, lacing your hands together, mostly for support as you're tired and you feel like your feet might actually fall off from your heels. 

You and Steve don’t bother finding any chairs, opting to sit in the grass instead. 

“It’s so beautiful out here” you sigh dreamily as you look at the stars in the sky. Steve turns to look at you while you admire the view “yeah. it really is”

A night breeze causes you to shiver, so Steve takes off his blazer and places it over your shoulders. “Thanks, Stevie” you smile at him and he hates how the way your nose scrunches as you smile makes him feel like a damn teenager with the butterflies he gets. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, looking back at the sky not really wanting to look at him when you ask what’s on your mind. “go for it”

“Why did you hate me? I mean, I hope it’s past tense because you said we can be friends now, but I’m just curious” you nervously pluck grass out of the ground, still avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t hate you” “Steve, that’s a lie and we both know it. Be honest, I can take it”

Seconds pass before he speaks again, letting out a big sigh before doing so. “You’re too perfect”

“What?” you scoff. “You’re just so…unreal. With the way you laugh, the way you’re nice to everybody, and the way you could wear a trash bag and still be unbelievably beautiful. It just makes me so mad because I can never have you” he confessions and you’re stunned, to say the least. 

You don’t say anything for a good minute and a half, unable to think of anything to say. Steve wishes he had a time machine so he could go back and say literally anything else. He takes your silence as rejection.

“why can’t you have me?” you whisper “it’s stupid” he grumbles. “tell me. please”

“Robin told me that I wasn’t ready for a girl like you and truth be told, I don’t think I ever will be” he tells you. You scoot closer to him, locking your eyes with his. “you can have me tonight, Steve, while we’re away from home. No robin, no hawkins, just you and me and not a care in the world”

“Can we really do that just for one night?” he wonders, eyes scanning over your face to see if there’s any detection of you just messing around with him. “that depends…do you wanna kiss me?”

“yes”

Neither of you waste any time. His lips hungrily chase yours and you sigh into the kiss as you both lay down on your sides in the grass. Your hand grasps the back of his neck to keep him in place, making sure this moment lasts as long as possible. Warmth spreads throughout your body and you feel like your heart might beat out of your chest. 

One of Steve’s hands tangles in your hair while the other rests on your waist. It’s so quiet outside that all you can hear are the sounds of your kiss and you can’t be too sure, but so far you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. 

Steve is the first to pull away, but not too far. He rests his forehead on yours and he keeps his eyes closed. “Can we go back to our place?” he asks and you let out an ‘mhm’ before you both stand up, going back inside to quickly say your goodbyes. 

_

Steve presses kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips every five seconds in the back of the cab and all the way to the front door. He knows he won’t be able to do this once you go back to your lives in Hawkins, so he uses this opportunity as best as he can. 

For tonight, you’re his girl and he can kiss you silly if he wants to. 

“Stevie, can I sleep in your sweatshirt? it gets cold at night”

“Here. I’ll get out of your hair” he says before leaving the room so you can get changed. His sweatshirt smells like him and you smile as you put it on. 

You change in record time so Steve can come back in. You know this is a terrible idea. You shouldn’t want to kiss him this badly, you shouldn’t hope you sleep in his arms tonight, but you do because you don’t know if you’ll ever get the chance to once you’re home. 

“I’m done!’’ you shout and Steve returns, also changed into comfy clothes. You both climb into bed after turning off the lights. His arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into him so your head lies on his chest. 

You’re both utterly exhausted, but don’t go to bed before sharing more giggly kisses. You each dread when the sunrises, meaning your time together is up. 

It was nice while it lasted. Even if it was only for a few hours. 

_

In the morning, there’s no regrets or arguing, like what both of you expected. Instead, there was a feeling of misery. If Steve knew he could’ve had you for this whole weekend, he wouldn’t have wasted a second. 

How is he supposed to act once you’re back in Hawkins? Does he go back to being an asshole or does he stick by his promise of being your friend? Is it even possible for him to be your friend at this point?

You don’t speak much throughout the morning, apart from when you’re at his parents’ to say goodbyes. “I can’t wait to see you again, dear” his mom had told you and you felt an odd feeling in your chest at her words. 

Steve loads up all of your things in the car for you and you mutter a ‘thanks’ before getting in the passenger seat. 

“Ready?” Steve asks when he gets in the car. “yep. let’s go home” you exhale a deep breath. 

You fall asleep almost as soon as you’re on the road and Steve sighs in relief. He doesn’t think he could take the silence. 

_

The ride home goes by fairly quickly. You wake once you feel his car come to a halt outside your house. 

“I’ll get your bags for you” he offers and you shake your head “no it’s o-”

“y/n, let me get your bags. It’ll be my final job as your fake boyfriend” he jokes and you let out a fake chuckle. Why does the thought of this being over hurt so much?

“Well, guess we’re broken up now, huh? Longest three and a half days of my life” you jest. “Right back at ya. Pleasure doing business with you” he holds his hand out and you shake it like you just got finished with a business meeting. “Until next time” 

“Until next time” he repeats your words and heads back to his car. 

You watch him drive away through your living room window, hoping he’ll turn around to give you one last kiss, but he doesn’t. It’s probably for the best anyways. 

_

It had been two weeks since returning to Hawkins and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling he had. It was the heart wrenching feeling you have when you miss someone, and he didn’t want to miss you, but he did. Severely.

Somehow, his apartment had felt lonelier. His bed felt colder as he grew accustomed to sharing a bed with you for only three nights, despite the gap that was left between you and him the first two nights. 

He hasn’t seen you since he dropped you off two weeks ago and there’s nothing else to say except that he misses you. 

He misses your laugh, he misses your banter, and he misses the way he felt when he kissed you that Saturday night. Like it was something you should’ve been doing this whole time. 

The clock on his bedside table reads 12:48 and he decides he can’t take this anymore. He can’t go through another sleepless night feeling like this.

He throws his blankets off his body and gets dressed, putting on the first thing he could find and running out the front door. 

He didn’t care anymore. 

He didn’t care about what Robin would say, or that you and Eddie used to be a thing, or that this could end in complete fucking disaster. 

All he cared about was what he wanted and that was you.

_

A series of knocks at your door wasn’t what you expected at one in the morning. 

Obviously, the first thing that came to mind was a murderer, but when you looked through your peephole, you saw a very frantic Steve.

“Steve? Are you okay?” his eyes were wide, his hair was a mess, and he was clearly jittery. 

“No, actually, I’m losing my mind. I mean, you tell me I can have you for one night and you thought that I could go back to normal after that?”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No, listen. I can’t go back to normal. I have wanted you for as long as I’ve known you and then we finally fucking kiss and I have to pretend like it wasn’t the best thing that’s happened to me a really long goddamn time. I want you and I can’t act like I don’t’’

You practically throw yourself at him, quickly crashing your lips together and pulling him inside. you’d been waiting so long for this.

“We can't tell any of our friends about this” kiss. “Agreed” kiss. “I mean this could totally blow up in our faces, there's no reason to tell them, right” you state, pulling away from his lips.“Uh-huh, right. Now shut up and kiss me again” 

You stand in your living for at least ten minutes, kissing him like it’s the only thing you’ll ever do again until exhaustion hits you both.

“do you wanna stay tonight? I don’t want you out driving this late”

“I wouldn’t be able to leave anyways” 

It feels weird at first to be cuddling Steve. Just a few weeks ago you swore up and down he hated you, and now you’re both curled up in your bed, clinging to each other like your life depends on it. It doesn’t feel wrong, though. It feels natural. Like, you’ve figured everything out. Well, almost everything. 

What else did you need to figure out? How the hell you were going to keep this from your friends.

_

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129 @moonofthedevil @tinakham @kennedy-brooke @enco12e @sierrahhh @meet-me-backstage @whoringtonmunswhore

(a few blogs i was unable to tag :( i’m not sure if that’s an issue on my end or not but i’ll try to figure it out!)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve harrington stranger things

[callsigndragon]

Christmas Gift | Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Teacher!Wife!Reader

Summary: Bob gets the most special christmas gift ever.

Word count: 1215

Warnings: fluff. BOB. Bob should be a warning. BUT I'M SAYING BOB IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. baby on board

Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74 @smells-like-perfect-senses

(if you want to be in the 'All TGM' tag list, send me an ask!)

A/N: Is this an attempt to stop y'all from suing me? yes. Hope you like it!

“How is the wife doing, Bob?” Hangman asks while walking to the parking lot. 

“I don’t know. She woke up sick this morning. Perhaps the sushi we had last night was spoiled,” Bob answers, checking his phone to see if there was any message from you, but you haven’t talked to him all day. 

“Oh, damn. If you need us to raincheck the Secret Santa party, call me.” He says while patting Bob’s back.

“I’ll ask her when I get home and I’ll text you” 

“Sure. Say hi to Bobette for me” 

Bob nods, walking to the car and dialing his wife’s number. 

“Robby?” 

"Hey, Mrs. Floyd. How are you feeling?” He asks, opening the car door and sitting inside. “If you’re still sick I can take you to the doctor” 

'Honey, I'm fine. I think it was the sushi,” you reply quickly, trying to stop his worry. “I was just about to jump in the shower and get ready for the party” 

“And you were gonna shower without me? Miss, do I need to remind you that we need to save the planet and use water wisely?” He can almost hear your smile from the other end of the line. 

“You have fifteen minutes to come home,” you challenge him, and Bob smirks. 

“Make it ten” 

One shower and a few hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd are walking hand in hand towards Hangman and Coyote’s house. A few weeks ago, both of them brought up the idea of celebrating Christmas with the squad. Of course, that included you as an honorary member of the squad through marriage. There were rumors of an upcoming mission that will happen during the holidays, so Coyote thought that they could celebrate some Secret Santa and exchange gifts two weeks before Christmas instead of doing it on Christmas Eve. 

Today is the day. 

You have been a bit worried about your gift for the past few weeks, not knowing what you should give them. But then, a few days ago, the answer came to you unexpectedly. 

Coyote opens the door, smiling at the sight. “Look at you, my favorite married couple.” He hugs you tight. “If you two ever get a divorce I’ll stop believing in love” 

“Javy, why are you talking about divorces?” Phoenix asks from behind him. She pushes the pilot away and pulls you close to hug you tightly. “Look at you, you’re beautiful! Are you using a new highlighter or something?"

You look at her with a puzzled expression. “Uh… no? Why?” 

“You’re literally glowing.” she adds. 

“I just got out of the shower, Nat. I’m not even wearing much makeup” 

 “Unbelievable” she grabs your hand and leads you inside. 

You hug and say hi to all the aviators, not having seen them in a while. It’s been crazy with the final exams, the Christmas play at school, and tons of different things. You all sit down, Nat offering you some hot chocolate that you gladly accept. 

“So, are we giving the presents now?” Fanboy says, almost jumping in his seat from the excitement. 

“What are you, five?” laughs Rooster while stealing some Christmas cookies from the tray that Jake left on the coffee table. 

“Look, I’ve been waiting two weeks for this. I need my gift now.” Fanboy states, and all of you chuckle a bit at his antics. Fanboy truly loves Christmas. 

“Okay, go get the gifts, we’ll be here” Payback says, leaning back on the sofa. 

“But there’s a lot?” the wizzo retorts. 

“You wanted the gifts, go get them” 

“BUT-” 

“OH LORD I’LL GO WITH YOU” exclaims Phoenix getting up from her seat and going with him to Jake’s room where all the gifts have been carefully placed. 

When they come back, you feel a bit nervous. It’s a very significant gift. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought that. 

You watch as Rooster opens his gift first. Inside the box, there’s the most ugly Hawaiian shirt you’ve ever seen. 

“Wait, are those actual roosters?” you point to the birds in the shirt, and Rooster laughs out loud when he sees that yes, those are actual roosters.

“Oh my god, I know who gave me this” he looks directly at Nat. “Was it you?” 

“Look, I hate your shirts. But I know you love them, so I had to give you a very special one” she says, getting up to hug Bradley. 

Nat is now opening her gift. It’s a helmet for her motorcycle, with the same stickers as her aviator helmet. Bob bought a helmet the other day. Yes! You were right! Bob had Phoenix. 

“Oh. my. God. This is the best gift EVER” she tries it on, and immediately goes to hug Bob. “I don’t even have to ask. You know my helmet better than me” 

“I was worried for a second that it wouldn’t fit you” he smiles and pats the helmet. "It looks good on you." 

“Thank you so much, Bob. It's perfect," she says as she grabs a white box with red dots from the table. “I think this one’s yours, buddy.” 

 Bob grabs the box and sits next to you, opening it slowly. He has the most beautiful smile on his face. But it drops instantly when he sees what’s inside the box. 

“Bob? It’s an iPad, bud. That’s awesome!” Coyote announces, not understanding the wizzo’s reaction. 

“It’s mine. I bought it last year,” he explains, looking at you. “Y/n?” 

“Just open it,” you simply reply. 

When Bob unlocks the iPad, a video begins to play immediately. It’s an ultrasound. 

"Oh, my god,” Nat says, covering her mouth in surprise. 

Bob is still looking at the screen, looking at the 11-week-old baby that will soon keep the both of you awake during the night. “You’re pregnant?” 

You nod, tears filling your eyes. Bob drops the iPad in the box and hugs you so tight that it almost hurts. “Babe, too tight” 

He pulls away, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. It’s just… Oh my god. You’re gonna be a mom. I’m gonna be a dad! We’re gonna be parents,” he is rambling at this point, and it’s just so cute. 

“And we’re gonna be uncles!” exclaims Hangman. “Oh my god, I have experience. I can change diapers. And babysit. You better name him Jake.” 

“I don’t even know if they’re a girl or a boy,” you laugh. 

Bob kneels down in front of you, carefully moving his hands toward your belly. “We showered together; how come I didn’t notice?” 

“You can suck your belly in, even if you’re pregnant.” 

His hands caress your belly, and he lowers his head to leave a soft kiss. “Hi, Bob” 

“Did you just call them Bob?” 

"Yeah, it's their call sign, Baby On Board," he says, and you can't stop yourself from kissing him. 

“Hey! That’s what I call you! I should be the godfather.” Jake protests, ending in a heated debate between Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and himself, fighting for the godfather position. 

“This is the most wonderful Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten, darling. Thank you so much,” he whispers, kissing you softly, his hands never leaving your belly. 

#top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun bob floyd #top gun bob #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob fluff #robert 'bob' floyd #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd x reader #bob top gun #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.

“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.

“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”

“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.

“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”

“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

At that, you pause.

You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).

You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.

No. You don’t care.

It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.

You shouldn’t care.

But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.

“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”

“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”

“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”

“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”

“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”

“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”

Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.

You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.

You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.

You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.

Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.

“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”

Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.

“You need to leave.”

“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”

“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.

“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.

“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.

And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.

“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.

Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.

It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.

Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.

“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.

But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.

“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.

“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.

Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.

“I know.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.

“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.

And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.

With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.

But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.

You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.

You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.

And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.

You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.

Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=

At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.

Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. 

You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.

“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”

He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.

“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”

You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.

“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.

“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”

You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.

You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.

Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.

Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.

It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.

And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.

And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.

He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.

You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.

It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.

Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.

It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.

And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.

There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.

It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.

Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.

It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.

And then it crests.

Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.

Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.

You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.

If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.

There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.

Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.

This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.

You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.

Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.

And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”

And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.

And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.

When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.

There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.

With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.

He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.

But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.

“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”

“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.

“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters.

That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.

WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.

This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.

WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.

The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.

FUCK HIM.

“Fuck you.”

The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.

“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”

“I’m sor-”

“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”

Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.

“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”

“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.

It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.

You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.

“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”

“Aonung I-”

“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.

Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.

“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”

Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.

“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.

“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”

“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”

Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.

“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”

“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”

“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”

And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.

“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.

“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.

“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”

There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.

“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.

His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.

When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.

But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.

As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.

Quite the victory it was.

Your tìyora.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul - Thank you for being here and enjoying this story 💗 Also tagging @pandoraslxna @pandorxxx @hotdsworld @tojisun @xylianasblog @aperiraa @blue-slxt @theblueflower05 and @vivid-ink bc you are all my biggest inspirations and thank you for being such a big part of the avatar fandom 😘 Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃

#avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #aonung x reader #avatar the way of water #aonung x female reader #avatar smut #aonung fic #avatar #aonung fanfiction #aonung #aonung x sully!reader #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits

[ch-4-eri]

Set Up | Sirius Black, Remus Lupin. Pt.4

Pairings: Sirius X fem!reader Remus X fem!reader

Summary: in which you’re in love with Sirius, but he sets you up with his friend. (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of insecurity, slight hints at Remus’s lycanthropy (nothing too detailed) bad communication trope.

Note: I’m only making this worse and worse, I’m sorry?

You’ve been occupying yourself with the midterms that had just begun.

Getting your mind off Remus and Sirius for the meantime, you haven’t seen either of them for almost a week now after the morning Remus walked off without saying anything to you, and that was kind of a wake up call to you.

You didn’t want to force anything so you just gotta let it go, especially after your talk with Sirius.

This was happening because of your feelings for him, if it weren’t for Sirius and your desperate desire and fantasy to be with him, you wouldn’t have hurt Remus and he wouldn’t have had to avoid you this much. He deserves better, he really does, he had a heart of gold and if you were around him much longer, you’d rotten it.. and it’s too good for that.

Sirius was right when he said you didn’t know what you wanted, so might as well just not want anything.

You were sure you wouldn’t fall apart, or think much of it, but you really wanted to talk to Remus.. only you had to promise yourself you’d give him a break, some space from all this.. especially after how sick he looked the last time you saw him reading on the table, he looked really tired.

you were hoping it wasn’t your fault.

As you were seated into the couch in the library, biting on your pencil, your thoughts eating at you, your eyes went up to the door to find Remus walking in, his coughing was all you heard before he disappeared behind the shelves and you leaned back into the seat, he didn’t see you, and you were glad he didn’t, you don’t deserve him.

He’s better off, you knew that much.

You collected your things and walked out only to face Sirius on the door, knowing he’s here for his friend, not being much of a reader.

“Ah, sorry.” Sirius laughed awkwardly as he peeked through the door. “Is everything alright?” You narrowed your eyes at the boy, his gray eyes slightly tired too.

“Did you see him inside?”

“Yeah he just walked in.. I didn’t talk to him though if you’re worried about that.”

“Well, okay.” Sirius nodded at you, biting at his lip ring as you blinked a few times. “Is he okay?”

“Remus? Nope, he’s a little sick…flu.” Sirius continued and you nodded. “Oh, right.. well you should take him out of there to rest.” You said, your heart burning, wishing you were the one to take care of him but it’s not your place, never was, never will be.

You swore you wouldn’t come near him.

“I will, thanks babe.. I’ll be on my way. Talk later.” Sirius gave you a sweet smile before he squeezed your waist and made his way inside the library. Your shoulders sank as did your heart, shaking your head before making your way into your dorm room.

Was Sirius lying to you about the flu? Was it something else? It couldn’t be you.. can it? You never thought of yourself that important, you never was, to anyone, not even your family, are you ever enough to make someone sick? Do you get to think that? You shouldn’t, Remus liked you surely.. but not enough where he gets sick because you argued.

You decided to push it aside, he had his friends to take care of him, he doesn’t need you, he never needed you, just like you were fine before him, he’s fine even after you.

Why were you thinking so much of this? Your overthinking will be the end of you, you knew that much.

You ignored it all by studying, asking your roommates for help down at the common room because you weren’t exactly the potions master and you certainly wanted to do well, having your parents upset with you isn't exactly on your radar.

As you collected your books, ready to head back to your dorm for the night you spotted James and Sirius walking inside, engaging in a conversation that lacked laughter and their smug smirks. James caught your eyes before he elbowed Sirius and he looked at you, waving to you before you waved back.

He wasn’t smiling before he saw you, you knew Sirius isn’t exactly the emotional person and he hid it from you, but seeing it like that felt a little bit too shitty.

You got up with your books in one arm, standing in front of the red couch and in front of the two black haired best friends. “Hey, how’s Remus?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s fine, he’s asleep now.” Sirius responded as James nodded in agreement. “Oh really, that’s great.” You took a sigh of relief before you saw how suspicious they both seemed to look, it bothered you to say the least. They were either hiding something from you or they were just making fun of you.

“Sirius, are you lying to me?”

“What?”

“Are you lying? Is this Remus being sick elaboration just to get me away? Or is he really sick?

Sirius laughed then. “Babe, you do overthink a lot.”

“He is really sick, if you’re not so sure, go up to the dorm you’ll find him so deep in sleep that he’s snoring with a drool down his chest.” James responded as he chuckled.

“Fine, okay.” You went to walk away but Sirius quickly stopped you. “What are you doing?” You blinked at his action, blocking your way like that.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to bed.” You answered before he chuckled, awkwardly with his face red. “Oh right.. okay.” Sirius stepped aside which made you raise your eyebrows at the realisation. “I wasn’t going to check on him, just so you know.”

“Yeah.. well, good.” Sirius scratched his neck, his eyes barely looking into yours as you raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Babe, nothing.. nothing is wrong, you’re overthinking everything, just go to bed.” Sirius exasperated. “You can’t just dodge my questions by saying I overthink a lot, don’t I have a reason to? When you’re acting like this, I know he’s your friend and you care about him but I care about him too.”

“I know you do, it’s not that.. I just don’t want you guys to argue again because of me, I know it’s my fault all this happened.. I didn’t know you were into someone else and you weren't interested in him.” Sirius rambled, him admitting to a mistake wasn’t new, he was always honest with you but you didn’t expect it now. “Yeah.. it’s complicated.”

Sirius went and squeezed your arms as you looked into his eyes. “Things will be fine, Remus will get better and you’ll talk to him, yes?” Sirius smiled, his hands going to cup your face with his warm hands. “Yes.” You nodded, Sirius smiled even bigger at your agreement with what he said.

“Good, now go to bed, and put that mind to rest.. okay?” Sirius leaned in and kissed your forehead, letting go of your face as he took a step back, you couldn’t help but smile at how good this made you feel, just very different from every time he was physical with you, you expected swerving butterflies, your heart hammering.

But all you felt was just a nice gesture from a nice friend.

your mind was focused on Remus, your need to be there with him, it broke you. Your chest felt so heavy at the feeling of him being in pain because of you, or maybe not because of you. whatever it is, you wanted to be there for him.

“Goodnight.” You told Sirius as you made your way up to your dorm room, thinking of ways you could sneak into the boys room but it was a dumb idea anyway, someone could easily see you, and it was late, the boys were going to sleep any minute now.

It was the next morning as you hurried down to your test, skipping breakfast, not feeling like talking to anyone anymore, not if you weren’t talking to Remus.

The marauders were seated on the next line of yours, Remus being there, staring down at his paper, his freckled face barely moving as you stared at him before being asked to look into your own paper.

After a long two hours of writing things down, looking at Remus, it was too messy for your mind to take as you made your way out the classroom, your heart grew heavy as you were called by professor slughorn.

The classroom was empty now as he looked at you with sort of a pity looking on his old face as you waited for what he’s going to be saying. “I don’t normally do this, but I feel like I should do something about the fact that you’re completely falling behind, miss.” He continued as you sighed, knowing how much you sucked at potions.

“You think?”

“I do, so I have a solution, hopefully it works out for you.. you need a tutor, a good one, one I know would help you pass or else you won’t be graduating from here.” Your heart sank at his words. “Tutoring? Who?”

“Remus lupin, he’s a very good student, very talented, I already informed him before class started which means you can arrange it whenever that would work out for the both of you, but I should warn you, you can’t back out or say no, I’m pretty sure he’s your only hope, miss.” Professor Slughorn continued before you blinked so many times, your heart sank at the mention of his name more than the fact that you’re failing.

You couldn’t argue with that, how could you? You’re failing, failing.

“Alright, thank you professor.” You gave him a smile before walking out of the classroom, already dreading this so bad. Remus tutoring you? You wanted to stay away from him, now you needed his help or else not graduating.

You wanted to look for him, set up a date to get this over with but you felt so nervous, this was bad, it wasn’t supposed to happen, why now?

You found him seated on the gryffindor common room couch, a book in his hand as you just went for it, it’s not

Your orders at the end of the day, it was professor Slughorn's and he knew about it.

You walked over to him, clearing your throat as his brown eyes met yours before you were reminded of that night on his bed and your palms become sweaty and your heart racing as he quickly shut his book, he indeed still looked sick, but still so beautiful. “Hi, Remus.. uh, I just came back from potion’s class… you’re my tutor, for as long as I need it.” You found yourself rambling before he gave you a kind of smile and your heart fluttered, he wasn’t mad at you?

“Yeah, of course.. when do you like to start?” The boy asked, looking up at you. “Whenever it works for you.” You stuttered, confused and taken aback all at once, you didn’t expect him to still sound so interested in whatever you had to say, but he wasn’t Sirius, that you had to be reminded of every single time.

Remus thought for a second then stood up, towering over you. “I thought it’s whenever it works for you, you’re the one who needs my help, don’t you?” Remus asked, his eyes staring into yours so intensely. “I do.. how does tomorrow sound?” You quickly said, gulping.

“Tomorrow it is, I’ll see you then.” Remus gave you a tired smile before he went to walk away, but you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him, a little too impulsive for your liking, fuck.

“Are you alright?” You asked, not helping it. “Just a little roughed up.. thanks for asking.” Remus searched through your eyes as you smiled, your skin tingled as you were finally talking to him, you felt so much at the moment. “Yeah of course.. I’m here, if you need me.” You offered, as Remus flushed at your words, nodding.

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” He said before turning and going on his way.

you hated to see him walk out on you again but right at this moment, you felt like you could do anything for him.

Then you’re reminded that he’s obligated to help you, and you figured Remus liked to be nice to his teachers, this shouldn’t mean anything.

And it doesn’t.

Taglist: @ietss @dancinglikeaballerina @daddamato @jamespottersdaisy @tendous-pretty-hair @humongoussheepmusic @isabela30 @thepunisherfrankcastle @aree-you-sirius-rn @br66klynbaby @starslibrary @samberriejams @fluffybunnyu @littleshadow17 @maximash89 @jack1n @iovaki @variant-lokitty @80scinemvasworld @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @xreaderbooksreads @madison-rebel @nesi-nesi-art @univocalbaby @turvi

#sirius black x you #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x female reader #sirius black #remus x you #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 2

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3

‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.

Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.

It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!

Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.

It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.

Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”

Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.

“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.

“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.

You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.

You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.

---

Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.

“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.

“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.

 You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.

“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”

Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?

“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.

“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”

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