#no witty remarks today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 8 months

Text

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

4K notes · View notes

talesofesther · 4 months

Text

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

2K notes · View notes

teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

Note

omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.

☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”

☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.

☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.

☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”

☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.

☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”

☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.

☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”

☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.

☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.

☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.

☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.

☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.

☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.

☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.

☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.

☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”

☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”

☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.

☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.

☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”

☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.

☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.

☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.

☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.

☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.

☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”

☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.

☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.

☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.

☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.

☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.

☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.

☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.

☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.

☆ NSFW

☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.

☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.

☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.

☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”

☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.

☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.

☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.

☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.

☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”

☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.

☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.

☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.

☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)

Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!

Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋

Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

1K notes · View notes

katebishopsbow · 7 months

Text

HEAT EXHAUSTION • OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader

summary: the heat was unbearable in the qatar gp, and after completing 57 dreadful laps you ended up fainting on broadcast television. knowing that the media was going to exploit your little incident and turn this into an issue of why women do not belong in motorsports, you were engulfed by guilt and self-hatred, and oscar was there to comfort you.

tags: enemies to lovers (kind of), angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of misogyny

word count: 2.6k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“That’s P3 and the third podium of the season. Great work out there today.”

Coming into the Qatar Grand Prix - with the sweltering heat and the suffocating humidity of the desert - you had already known it was bound to be a difficult race, but nothing could have prepared you for how grueling it actually was.

Feeling as if your entire body was engulfed in flames as you sat in the cockpit, sweat dripping down your face while your body overworked itself to withstand the g-forces at every high-speed turn. It was utterly torturous, and with each passing second during the race you felt like you were getting closer and closer to collapsing.

When you finally completed all 57 of those dreadful laps, you just barely managed to pull yourself out of the car with your wobbly arms and trembling legs. Your entire race suit and fireproofs were soaked in sweat, and each breath you took was like inhaling fiery hot air. Your chest hurt from the deep breaths you were struggling to take, every muscle and joint screamed in pain, and your brain felt completely fried by the scorching heat.

Glancing around the circuit, the world suddenly seemed to be made of squiggly lines and distorted shapes, and you had to lean on your car for support as you desperately attempted to recompose yourself. You absolutely could not faint right now, you told yourself. Not when all your fellow drivers were beside you, and especially not when the media would be scrutinizing your every move, dying to see you make a mistake so that they could exploit your vulnerability and convince the world that women were too weak to be in motorsports.

So you forced yourself to straighten up, kept your head high – at least as high as you could with how lightheaded you were feeling – and tried your hardest to put on a victorious smile. In your peripheral vision, you could see a figure slowly approaching you, and your smile immediately disappeared when you turned to see the one and only Oscar Piastri.

The man was just as drenched in sweat as you were, sandy hair all messy and disheveled from his helmet as he said to you, “Congratulations on getting P3, y/n.” You scanned his expression skeptically, finding his sudden friendliness rather unusual considering the fact that all the previous exchanges between you two were always snarky remarks and backhanded compliments. You were about to answer him with a quick “thank you” before he cut you off and continued on with a smirk, “Too bad you still finished below me.”

Ah – there was the Oscar you knew and the lame, dry-humored insults you were used to. The smug grin that tugged on his lips made you wish you could just punch it straight off his handsome face. No wait – he wasn’t handsome, this was simply your overheating brain speaking.

You normally would retort with a couple of witty insults and take a few jabs back at him, but with how nauseated you were as well as the pulsating ache wrecking through your brain, you just didn’t have the energy to deal with his antics right now. When you simply walked away from him in silence, Oscar’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, and he wondered if he had accidentally stepped over the line with his teasing and made you genuinely upset.

Lando, who was standing nearby and watching the whole interaction between you two, side-eyed his McLaren teammate as he failed to suppress his loud chuckle, “You finally pissed her off, mate?” Oscar shrugged his shoulders, putting on the most nonchalant expression he could manage and replied briskly, “Whatever, man.” He didn’t care if he pissed you off or made you upset. He didn’t care about you, period.

At least that’s what he tried to tell himself, anyway.

Upon walking away from the two papaya drivers, you stumbled to the table and grabbed yourself a bottle of iced water, finishing the whole thing in a couple of seconds. It did make you feel refreshed and slightly better, but then all you could feel were waves of nausea when the liquid settled into your stomach.

Panic surged through you, you felt worse by the second and nothing seemed to be making you feel better. The loud music and boisterous cheers of the celebrating spectators around you did nothing to help with your situation, and the deafening cacophony was making you feel severely overstimulated.

That’s when David Coulthard showed up with a microphone in his hand, ready to interview the podium sitters and get some insights on today’s race. You tried to subtly dodge the cheery man, hoping to hold off being on camera for as long as you could. To no avail, the man sauntered straight toward you with the biggest smile on his face and all of a sudden, a microphone was handed to you and you were being broadcast on the big screens.

“Congratulations on getting on the podium today! What’s it like getting your third podium in only your first season in F1? Do you feel excited, overwhelmed, or pressured to perform well? And what are your expectations for future races?” The bombarding questions were too much for your overworked body to handle, and the words falling from his lips sounded more like incoherent nonsense than actual words with meaning.

“I – I, uh,” you wracked your brain to come up with an answer, you really tried, but nothing came out of your mouth apart from the constant stuttering. “Umm, you okay there?” David asked with a worried smile, clearly noticing your distressed state – bless his heart – but his question only managed to attract people’s attention to the two of you. As if things couldn’t get any worse, you could feel so many pairs of eyes on you. All the other drivers, journalists, crew members, spectators, everybody was staring at you.

Oscar’s eyes never left you since the second you had walked away from him quietly. He never seemed to be able to take his eyes off you anyway, albeit he would never admit it out loud. And it didn’t take long for him to notice that something was clearly wrong with you. From your indifference to his teasing, your fatigued body stumbling around the pit, to the way your face gradually became paler and paler underneath the flashing lights of the camera.

There was an unfathomable feeling gnawing at his chest as he studied you cautiously, one he couldn’t pinpoint, but this unpleasant feeling propelled him to walk towards you two and interrupt the post-race interview.

“I’m really… thankful for…” your slurred words came to a halt when Oscar leaned into your microphone and said with an apologetic smile, “I think she needs some rest now, perhaps we can continue this later.” David nodded understandingly, knowing just how physically demanding F1 races could be. But right before the cameraman could pan the shot to the next driver, your vision became consumed by black spots and your body felt like it was sinking into quicksand.

You tried staying upright, but you failed to fight the darkness that engulfed you and the next second your limp body was collapsing into the embrace of the boy next to you. Right before you slipped into unconsciousness, you could hear the worried callings of your name and a pair of strangely comforting arms wrapping themselves around you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, trying to blink away the disorientation as you glanced up at the blinding ceiling lights. Every fiber of your being still ached with exhaustion, but the previously unbearable throbbing in your head seemed to fade into a dull pain instead. “Look who’s finally awake.” You turned toward the voice and your tired eyes landed on your fellow driver, sitting beside your bed in his papaya race suit. “Why are you even here, Oscar?” you sighed exasperatedly, and your headache was already starting to return when you slowly recalled what had happened to you on broadcasted television.

The Australian driver shrugged again, feigning nonchalance while he mumbled something under his breath. You didn’t bother asking him what he had said because your mind was already preoccupied with something else – something that could potentially jeopardize your career in F1 and women’s positions in motorsports.

You were so angry, so disappointed in yourself for fainting in front of the crowd while a camera was pointing directly at your face. You could already imagine all the patronizing headlines about you tomorrow, chastising you and taunting you for fainting after the race.

“F1 female driver fainting – Is it the weather conditions or a sign of women’s physical limitations in motorsports?”

“Y/n L/n passes out after Qatar GP: Do women have what it takes to handle the harsh conditions of being an F1 driver?”

It didn’t matter if the heat was torturous or the humidity was unbearable, it didn’t matter even if you finished P3, because all the world could see was that you, a female driver, fainted. The only conclusion they would be able to draw from this incident was that you did not have what it takes to be in F1. You were too weak, too physically incapable, and you never deserved your seat nor the opportunity your team had given you despite the effort and sacrifices you had made to be here.

Before you even noticed it, your eyes were beginning to sting from the unshed tears of frustration, self-deprecation, and guilt. “I should have known better… If only I had stayed awake for a little longer or fainted in a hidden corner somewhere.”

Oscar’s head snapped up instantly, shocked at the sheer vulnerability lacing through your shaky voice. You were never one to show much emotions as a racer, always keeping a cold exterior in all circumstances, so when he saw your glassy eyes he found himself speechless. He had no clue what to say or how to react, and so he just sat there with the most clueless look on his face.

His face was so meme-worthy that you almost wanted to laugh at him if it wasn’t for how shitty the current situation was. The ever-so-stoic and level-headed Oscar Piastri was at a loss for words because you were crying in front of him. But the humor was quick to fade and replaced by the self-blame and guilt for disappointing your supporters and your team, and the damned tears were biting at your eyes again.

You hurriedly covered your eyes with your palm, rubbing at your eyelids as if doing so could somehow force the tears back into your eyes instead of having to cry like an idiot in front of Oscar. You felt so stupid, so embarrassed, so pathetic – and all of a sudden all your thoughts became blank because you could feel a hand wrapping around your wrist.

Oscar’s fingers were delicate, his gentle feather-like touch causing the slightest flurry of tingle to blossom on your skin when he slowly pulled your hand away from your face. “Don’t rub your eyes. They’ll get swollen,” he whispered ever so softly and released his grip on your wrist, only to reach for your cheek and wipe away a stray tear that cascaded down.

The way your heart quickened its pace at his slightest touch is a secret you will never mention to anyone, one you will take to your grave. The clueless, confused expression on his face had long disappeared, and his eyes were instead clouded with a mixture of emotions you struggled to decipher.

Perhaps the heat had really messed your head up, because suddenly you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch and give into his comforting warmth. There was something about the way Oscar was gazing into you, watching you with such sincerity and tenderness that it made your resolve break, and you couldn’t help but allow yourself to open up to him for the first time ever.

“You don’t understand… they’d give me so much shit for this. They’ll take every chance they get to make me seem weak and undeserving of my place here. I worked so hard to be in my position now, to perform well in races and get on podiums, but my effort will never be good enough for the world.”

Oscar knew what you had meant. It was a cruel sport where people could only remember your last race and every little mistake could cost you your career. Every driver is under constant pressure and scrutiny, especially for women fighting for their places in a male-dominated field.

“Perhaps I’ll never be able to understand your struggles, but if there’s one thing that I know, it’s that you deserve to be here more than anyone,” he said to you with so much certainty that it made all those awful thoughts in your head fade away momentarily, and you watched him in silence as you awaited for him to continue.

“I know that you trained harder than any drivers on the grid to get your seat here. You keep a smile on your face despite people’s constant doubt and judgment about you, and you fight hard to prove them wrong. You carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders, but you don’t have to be perfect to be deserving of the things you have.”

You wondered if Oscar somehow was gifted with mind-reading abilities because there was no way he could have said all that you had needed to hear so badly without reading your mind.

The constant pressure to be perfect, to excel in each and every way, or else you would be seen as inadequate for the sport. All the sleepless nights you spent reliving your mistakes again and again, wondering what you could have done differently to avoid it because you knew the media was going to have a field day with your errors. And the smiles you forced on your face despite facing the criticism of others as you pretended to be unaffected by their words, but then you go back to your hotel room in tears because a part of you was beginning to believe in their words – you would never be good enough no matter how hard you tried.

“You are worthy of the things you worked hard for,” Oscar whispered hushedly, just loud enough for you to hear and for you to remember. He was unsure where all those words came from – all he knew was that he looked into your crestfallen eyes and just spoke his mind, pouring his entire heart out while wishing he would never have to see you cry again.

It was the first time you had seen Oscar acting like this, without his annoyingly funny teases and inside jokes that only you two seemed to understand. It was the first time Oscar had seen you like this, not putting up that tough facade that only Oscar seemed to be able to look through. You two were simply being you, no lies, no fronts, just you. The silence that hung between you and Oscar was strangely comforting – no words needed to be said.

Oscar would never admit it out loud how much he had wanted to kiss you at the moment, and you would never admit out loud how much you had wanted him to kiss you. He pretended that he wasn’t looking at you with such fondness, and you pretended not to notice the adoration swimming in his eyes. He acted like his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest when you reached for his hand, and you acted like your head wasn’t fuzzy with tingles when he silently intertwined your fingers together.

“Don’t get all sappy with me now, Piastri.” “Oh please, you know I would never.”

#f1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 #formula 1

2K notes · View notes

snoowpee · 2 months

Text

all mine - s.jy

Pairing ⇾ bestfriend!jake x bestfriend!reader

Genre ⇾ smut, a little bit of fluff

Warnings ⇾ unprotected sex (you know you don’t want kids!), making out, slight food play, marking, ass slapping, pussy slapping, name calling (whore), dirty talking, fingering, mentions of nudes & masturbation, oral (f. receiving), face riding, filming, hair pulling, jerking off, riding, possessiveness, choking. I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!

Summary ⇾ being best friends with jake is all fun and games until you get jealous with how sociable he is with other girls.

Word count ⇾ 4.4k words

Playlist ⇾ Summer Walker (feat. Jhené Aiko) - I’ll Kill You.

Science class is boring the hell out of you. You watched the clock on the wall, counting down how many more minutes of suffering you had to endure. Great! fifteen minutes left. I’m going to lose it, if this class doesn’t end soon. You grumbled. Putting your head down on top of your folded arms.

You turned to face the male seated beside you, when you felt a hand grazed the left side of your waist. “The work isn’t gonna do itself,” Jake quietly whispered, not wanting to disrupt the class, he smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. You discreetly flipped him off. Jake bit his lips to prevent a grin, but failed to do so.

“Do you have soccer practice afterschool?” You asked, changing the subject to suppress the rising thoughts in your head.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded.

“Bummer, I was gonna ask you to re-teach me the whole lesson today,” Jake knew you meant a whole different thing by the way your eyes lit up.

“I can swing by your place after practice, how does that sound, princess?” Jake whispered, mouthing the pet-name, careful even in his hushed tone to not let anybody hear.

“Sounds good to me, Jakey,” you shrugged. He scoffed at the nickname while your mouth stretched into a smile.

The clock ticked a few more times until the bell finally rang, indicating that class was over. You and Jake both packed your stuff, heading in different directions after. Just have to get through English class. You grumbled again, wanting school to end, so that you could lay down on your bed.

English class wasn’t so bad for you, knowing that you had friends to keep you entertained during it. The whole day, you assumed that time seemed to pass by very slowly, but to your surprise, it flew during English class.

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you made your way to the school’s field, where Jake was at. As soon as you realized that the weather was pretty nice, you decided to watch his practice for a bit.

When you reached the field you saw Jake and his friends talking to a group of girls. You recognized that a few of the girls are from your History class, and some are friends with your friends.

As you sat on the bleachers, Heeseung and Sunghoon noticed your presence, excusing themselves politely before taking long strides towards you.

“We felt bad seeing you all by yourself, so we wanted to keep you company while Jake’s getting his cock wet.” Sunghoon snickered at Heeseung’s remark.

“Man, you gotta see how many of the girls are asking for his socials. Man’s famous,” Sunghoon said as he took a seat beside you, Heeseung following ensuite.

“It must be so tough to be friends with a whore,” Heeseung feigned sympathy. Before you could respond with a witty remark, a familiar voice spoke.

“You better not be hitting on my best friend!” Jake shouted from where he was standing. Heeseung and Sunghoon bursted out in fits of laughter.

“No way, he’s still calling you his best friend?” Sunghoon teased. “Damn, I wouldn’t be calling you that if I were him, especially after blowing your back,” Sunghoon gave you a knowing look, you shrugged.

“I don’t know, Park. I don’t kiss and tell,” you teasingly smiled at him.

“You two need to get this shit sorted out…” Heeseung butted in. “…cause from what I’m seeing, you two are basically best friends who are lowkey fucking each other, but sometimes you two act like you’re in a relationship, and it’s madly confusing. I don’t mean to pry, but trust me it’s that obvious.”

“You should tell your buddy,” you shrugged again. “I know what I want. I’m not too sure about your teammate, though.”

All three of you turned to look at the soccer coach, your talk being interrupted by hearing a whistle blow.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll figure it out…” Sunghoon stood up. “…or maybe he did already.” Sunghoon said before he and Heeseung both waved goodbye to you.

You watched as the whole soccer team gathered, in the form of a circle, to debrief the events that took place from their last game, which didn’t take too long.

When the coach ordered the team to warm up, your mouth watered at the sight of Jake’s hot, focused expression, eyes blazing with competitiveness.

Afterwards, the team was split into two groups, one group wore a green mesh pinnie while the other wore a blue mesh pinnie. You heard the whistle blow again, signaling the start of a practice game. It took awhile for the game to end but you couldn’t deny that it was a little bit entertaining.

Once boredom overcame your senses, you fished out your phone, texting Jake to let him know that you were leaving already. You made your way to where your car was parked and drove home, which didn’t take too long.

When you arrived at your place, you changed into comfy clothes, before deciding to take a nap.

You woke up to a blanket of darkness surrounding you. You reached for your phone to check the time, seven thirty, Jake was surely done with his practice by now. You unlocked your phone to entertain you while you wait for Jake to arrive.

You were scrolling through Twitter when you heard your bedroom door swing open, “Hey princess…” Jake’s voice was husky, he sighed audibly. “…practice was rough today.”

You paused, Jake had his back facing you, his upper body naked, with a towel around his waist, his black hair a little wet, probably from the shower he just had. He smelt just like you.

“Where were you?” you had to know if he took a shower at your place again. Jake turned around to face you, whilst your eyes wandered to admire his broad shoulders and his toned abdomen, all displayed in front of you. “I mean, when did you get here?” You cleared your throat.

“Like what you see?” Jake bit his lips while smiling.

You threw your phone to the side and walked up to him, you grabbed one of his shirts from his duffel bag, shoving the shirt to his face. Jake chuckled whilst leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face where your shoulder and neck meet. You squirm under his touch, feeling his wet bare skin against the fabric of your shirt, his breath hits the skin of your neck and you feel him pressed a kiss on the said area.

“I got here earlier, I didn’t want to wake you up, though. You looked so pretty sleeping,” Jake’s hands traveled down to grope your ass, he playfully slapped it, rubbing it in a circular motion after. “Did you get a new body wash?” Jake kissed your jaw, you hummed in response. “I like it, it smells good.”

“Yeah? You better not finish the whole bottle before I try it,” you teased, kissing Jake’s damp hair while he giggled.

“I’ll try not to,” Jake sighed, inhaling your scent after, your hands busy playing with his wet hair.

“I want ice cream,” you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Get dressed, Jakey,” you pinched one of his cheeks.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets,” Jake saluted, pulling himself away from you to grab his clothes. He gave you a look whilst you stood there.

“What?” you asked confused.

“Are you gonna watch me get dressed?” Jake asked.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you shrugged.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess,” He let out a breath, you snickered.

“I’m just kidding,” you sickeningly smiled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Before Jake can remove the towel around his waist, you turn around and lay on your stomach, busying yourself with your phone. After a while, you felt Jake slapped your ass, catching you off guard.

“Let’s go,” Jake hooked his arms around your waist, lifting you up with ease.

“I’m driving!” You said attempting to reach for Jake’s car keys, his arms around your waist preventing you to do so.

“No, you’re not,” Jake pecked your lips as you pouted, glaring at him. “C’mon, let’s go,” Jake intertwined his hand with yours, leading the way to his car. You tried getting in the driver’s seat before Jake, but he locked the car before you could open the door. “What a stubborn girl,” Jake shakes his head, smiling at your pissed expression.

“Please…” you drag out the word, putting your hands together, while you exaggerate your pout. Jake thought you were the cutest.

“Tough luck, princess,” Jake opened the car door to the passenger seat, motioning for you to get in. You sighed in defeat, rolling your eyes at a smiling Jake before you got in.

Jake got in the car, turning on the engine right after, he drove to the direction of the nearest fast food chain that serves ice cream, pulling up to the drive thru to order for you.

“Can I get one regular oreo ice cream? Yeah, thanks,” Jake drove ahead, the car halting a few moments after.

Jake rolled down the car window, tapping his card on the machine, he rolled up the window handing you the cup of ice cream.

“Thanks Jakey!” You beamed upon eating a scoop.

“Nah babe, I want a kiss,” he smiled playfully as he pulled out of the parking lot, his right hand fell on top of your left thigh. You leaned in, pecking his lips.

“Satisfied?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Nah,” he steered the steering wheel with one hand, the car stopped at a stoplight and he looked at you with a teasing smile. He bit his lip trying to suppress it, but failed. You wanted to slap the eat-shiting grin he had on, losing it when his tongue darted out to lick the corners of his lips.

“You don’t wanna get on my nerves right now, Sim.” He lightly laughed at your ‘threat’ while you busy yourself with scooping the ice cream, feeding it to him after.

“Where do you wanna go, princess?” Jake asked, squeezing your thigh, eyes focused on the road.

You ponder for a while, “Any ideas?” you asked him.

“We can stop by the park? Go straight to your place, maybe watch a movie? If you’re up to drink we can go get liquor? I don’t really know, princess. It depends on what you want to do.” Jake’s eyes go back and forth between you and the road.

“Let’s stop by the supermarket,” you mumbled, mouth full of ice cream. Jake nodded, driving to the direction of the nearest supermarket.

Jake spots a vacant spot, parking the car, when you’ve reached the parking lot of your destination.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing onto Jake’s lap. “What are you up to, princess,” Jake chuckled as you straddled him.

“Nothing,” you mischievously smiled at him.

You pressed a kiss on his lips, pulling away before he gets the chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. “Not so fast, Jakey,” you proceed to eat the remaining ice cream.

“You’re such a tease…” Jake cheekily smiled, “…Do you really want to go to the supermarket?” Jake’s hand caressed your skin underneath your shirt. You shivered due to his cold fingers. Jake found your reaction amusing.

“Well you weren’t gonna pullover when I told you to! What was I supposed to say?!” You reasoned out, Jake snickered. “Can I please drive?” you begged.

“Why do you wanna drive so bad?” Jake rests his head against your shoulder.

“There’s no special reason, I just wanna drive,” you played with his fluffy hair.

“Sorry, princess. Answers still no,” Jake said, you pulled on his hair so you could look him in the eye.

“I will ride your face, if you let me drive,” you deadpanned.

“Tempting, but nope,” Jake pecked your lips, your tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Pulling away from him to scoop the ice cream, feeding it to him. Once he had the ice cream in his mouth, you kissed him again, with your tongue exploring his mouth. You can taste the sweetness of the oreo ice cream against his tongue, as the mixture of his drool and the melted ice cream dribbles out from the corners of his mouth.

You placed the cup on the cupholder, your arms wrapping around Jake’s neck to pull him closer, while Jake does the same but with your waist. You both fight for dominance for a while, Jake losing as you grind down on him. You pulled away to lick the dripping drool on the corners of his mouth, Jake groaned as you pressed down on him harder.

“You’re so messy, princess,” Jake bites your collarbones.

“That’s how you like it,” you whispered into his ear.

“Alright, you’re driving,” Jake finally caved in, he sighed as you squealed. “But no over-speeding!” Jake pinched your cheeks.

“I don’t do that!” you defended yourself. Jake gave you a look. “That was one time, Jakey!”

“Sure, princess. What about the other day? Or the day after we went to that party? Last week? When you picked me and Jay up from the mall? Or when you drove us to school that one day?”

“You’re way hotter when you have your mouth shut, you know?” you made a face, Jake looked at you unamused. “Ok, you made your point. I won’t do it again!” you rolled your eyes. “Now, move!” Jake dramatically sighed again.

After Jake moved to the passenger seat, you drove all the way back to your place.

It was safe to say that you made it alive, miraculously without speeding.

You turned on the tv in your bedroom, sitting down on Jake’s lap, while he lay down with his head against the headboard while he had his right arm wrapped around you. As you try to pick a movie to watch, Jake was busy texting his friends, lightly laughing from time to time.

“Hey, man,” Jake laughed. Is he serious right now? you glanced at him but he was too busy to even notice.

“Yeah, I heard. No? Wait, what? You’re kidding?” Jake continued talking through the phone.

You can hear Sunghoon’s faint voice, explaining stuff you didn’t care about. You stood up and peered at Jake. He didn’t even notice. Let’s see if he could keep this up. With that, you discarded your shorts, leaving your purple laced panties on, one of Jake’s favorites.

You climbed back on top of him but instead of sitting yourself on top of his lap, you moved up so that you’re sitting on his chest, making sure to arch your back so he got a view of your ass. This time Jake did notice you, his hand caressing and groping your ass despite talking to Sunghoon. You jut out your ass so that it’s all up in his face, shuffling around to find a more comfortable position.

Once you found yourself comfortable, you had your head rested on your folded arms on top of Jake’s abdomen, your legs folded on either side of Jake, with your ass way too close to Jake’s face much to his liking.

You pull on the strings of his sweats, continuing to look for a movie to watch. You felt Jake pull you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss on your inner thigh, you groaned as he bit your asscheek after.

Jake bit his lower lip, trying to focus on what Sunghoon was saying. He was well aware that you're pining for his attention but he couldn’t hang up on Sunghoon since he was saying such interesting things.

Jake pushed his thumb between your clothed folds, feeling the wet patch on the fabric grow, you whimpered in response to his touches. You moaned when he pulled your panties upwards, creating a friction in between your folds, stimulating your clit with the fabric rubbing against it. Jake does this for a while, leaving some bites on the flesh of your ass as he did so. At his actions, you let out soft moans loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for Sunghoon to hear on the other line.

You audibly gasped when you felt Jake rubbed your clothed clit, jerking your ass back to feel more of him. You hear him chuckle, not sure if it’s because of what Sunghoon said or your reaction. Jake pinches your clit, pulling it and twisting, leaving you breathless. He slaps your ass, gripping the soft flesh to spread your ass apart.

“Hey, man, listen. As much as I love hearing how Jay got himself into some deep shit, I have a really important task at hand,” Jake pushed your panties to the side, he sighed when he saw a glob of arousal drip down from your hole to your folds.

“Yeah, is your best friend being needy right now?” You hear Sunghoon say on the other line.

“Fuck off,” Jake simply said, you heard Sunghoon laughed before a beeping noise indicated that the call was over.

Jake threw his phone to the side, he pulled you impossibly closer to him before speaking. “I can’t even talk to my friends without you feeling the need to pull shit like this?” Jake slapped your cunt, a fresh glob of arousal dripping out of your hole from the action. “My cute little whore, running around impatiently wanting to get fucked,” you mewled when Jake shoved his thumb in and out of you. “Don’t I fuck you enough? You want me to always fill you up with my dick?”

“I don’t know, Jakey. You tell me…” you breathlessly spoke, “…Do you always have to look for new bitches to fuck? Knowing you jerk off to the thoughts of me wrapped around you? Knowing how good my mouth feels wrapped around you?” you hear Jake groan, his cock stirring up in his sweats, visibly getting hard.

“Fuck,” Jake bit his lips, replacing his thumb with his index and middle finger.

“You always have to call me late at night, when you’re so horny and desperate to get off? When, you have to send me pictures of your dick, begging me to do something about it? All those videos of you jerking off and putting on a show for me?” You reached for Jake’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of you.

You leaned all the way back until you felt Jake’s plushed lips against your folds. You moaned when Jake licked your folds, tongue dipping in your hole a couple of times before licking your clit after.

“You don’t think I know how you moan my name when you’re all alone humping your pillow? Or how desperate you sound when you whine out my name when you touch yourself?” you grind down on Jake’s tongue, his nose hitting your clit.

“You’re so hot, princess,” Jake said against your cunt, words muffled, he hugged your waist, shoving his lips against your folds.

“Right there, Jakey,” you moaned, toes curling with how good Jake was eating you out. You turn your head to the side, seeing how Jake was holding onto your waist and how he had his head buried in between your legs. The sight looked so hot. You reached for your phone, clicking on the record button before zooming in on the mirror showing the view of Jake hugging your waist while he ate you out. “Say hi, Jakey,” you bit your lips when Jake slapped your ass.

You fully sat up to sit directly on Jake’s face, both of his hands gripping your waist, you reached back to gripped his fluffy hair, pushing him closer to your cunt. You point the camera down, showing Jake under you, licking your folds and sucking on your cunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, Jakey…” the grip around your waist tightened.

Your moans got louder when you neared your climax, seeing white as you spilled all over Jake. He helped you draw out your climax by licking you clean, pulling off of him when oversensitivity reached your senses.

Jake looked like he came out of your biggest wet dream, his swollen lips and chin shiny from the mix of his saliva and your release, fluffy hair all messy.

“Take your clothes off for me,” you film Jake following your orders without protest. He took off his shirt, throwing it to the side, he did the same with his sweats and underwear, leaving himself bare. “Show me how you touch yourself, Jakey.”

Jake looked at you then at the camera, he gripped the base of his cock, slit leaking beads of precum. He spat on the tip of his cock, whining when he stroked himself, smearing his saliva all over to lubricate his cock.

“Who do you think of when you’re all alone, Jakey?” You asked, Jake bucked his hips up when his hand gained speed, he moaned out your name loudly.

“F-Fuck…” Jake noisily whined, “Y-You’re… you’re a-all I think about!” Jake struggled to speak coherently, his hand moving impossibly fast.

It didn’t take too long for Jake to cum, already worked up after eating you out. As he reaches the peak of his climax, white ropes of his cum shoot out of his tip, creating a mess everywhere. Jake gasped for air, trying to regulate his breathing. You stopped filming, dropping your phone to your side to climb onto Jake’s lap. He hugged your waist again, leaning his head back on the head board, closing his eyes.

Jake hissed when you bit the skin of his neck, leaving a bite mark that will surely bruise. Satisfied with what you’ve done, you continued leaving bite marks on the expanse of his neck, playing with his hair as you did so.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jake asked, exhaustion evident on his face.

You take a hold of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line it up with your hole before sinking down, you and Jake moaning in unison at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. You let yourself adjust to Jake’s size before you moved up and down on his lap at a fast pace. Skin slapping, lewd moans, and crude language echoed throughout your bedroom.

“Nothing, I’m just claiming what’s mine,” you said, stuttering out each word. Jake’s hands rolled your shirt up, squeezing both of your tits.

You moaned out his name when his thumbs played with your sensitive nipples. You pushed his hands away to roughly kiss him, in response Jake let you explore the cavern of his mouth with your tongue. You barely pulled away, letting him breathe for a moment, impatiently pressing your lips together to roughly make out.

Jake’s lips were swollen and shiny once you pulled away from him, leaving you satisfied. Jake gasped when he felt your right hand crept up to his neck, your fingers wrapped around his throat.

“Fuck…” Jake bit his lips, moaning out your name when you tighten your grip around his neck.

“Who do you belong to, Jakey?” you bounced on him faster, chasing your high.

“Y-You,” Jake felt lightheaded with his peak nearing. “‘m a-all yours.”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, understood?” Jake attempted to nod, your grip on him not loosening.

“Y-Yes! A-All yours,” Jake stuttered out.

Jake rubbed your clit at a speed, the knot in your stomach finally snapping as you creamed on Jake’s cock, triggering his orgasm not long after.

Jake leaned his back on the headboard behind him, catching his breath. You hugged Jake, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the exhaustion creep in. You almost drifted into sleep with the way Jake was playing with your hair, his other arm loosely wrapped around you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jake spoke, breaking the silence. He carried you to your bathroom, setting you down on your toilet to let you pee, he cleaned himself up while waiting for you to finish, lending you a hand when you needed anything.

After changing into new sets of clothes, you lie down in bed with Jake to cuddle. He hissed when you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close.

“What?” you asked Jake, confused, he didn’t answer, opting to point at his neck. You pulled down Jake’s hoodie to inspect his neck, splotches of marks adorned his neck, your handprint evident, bruising the skin. “Oh my god!” you sat up at the same time your eyes widened, Jake chuckled at your reaction. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry! I got carried away!”

“You’re good, princess,” Jake hugged you again, pulling you close as he kissed the skin of your neck. Your fingers find their way to play with his hair again. “Oh, I meant it by the way…” He rested his head on your shoulder, looking up to hold your gaze. “…I’m all yours.” Jake grinned.

“I know,” you said sporting the same expression the boy had in front of you. “You’re all mine.”

“I’m sorry for making you jealous, princess.” Jake pouted. “But I can’t guarantee that it won't happen again,” Jake teased, pointing at his neck.

“You little shit!” you flicked Jake’s neck in annoyance, making him scream at the sudden pain.

“I’m sorry! I was just kidding!” Jake hugged you tighter.

You woke up the next morning with a note from Jake, apologizing that he had to leave for practice early in the morning, not forgetting to promise a hang out with his girl after. It was safe to say that you went back to bed with a smile on your face after reading the note.

Jake felt bad for leaving you, but it was either that or deathly exercises assigned to him by his coach.

When he arrived at the change room, he spotted his friends by their designated lockers. Jay already changed into his jersey, Heeseung groggily changing, and Sunghoon stretching.

“About time you arrived,” Sunghoon said. “We were just talking about Jay’s dumbass. What took you so long to get here?”

“I had to stop by my place to get my shit,” Jake simply said. “Hey man,” Jake dapped Jay up. “So, what did your dad say?”

“I don’t know, man. He said he’s gonna get my car fixed, but guess what? This dude’s gonna intern at his company,” Jay pointed to himself, looking unamused.

“Yikes, you poor soul.” Jake said, pulling up his hoodie to change his clothes. His friends collectively gasped.

“Dude, you’re not gonna go out looking like that,” Sunghoon said, shocked.

“Yeah, no. Coach is gonna think you got into a fight or something,” Heeseung said mouth agape.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Jay pointed at Jake’s neck.

“Oh, this?” Jake arrogantly smirked. “My girlfriend happened.”

#enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jake smut #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake x reader smut #jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction

938 notes · View notes

starstruckmiraclekitty · 6 months

Note

Just got this idea and it made me cry ok so for 141+König where the reader suddenly walks up to him and just kisses and holds him while crying cause they love him so much and they panicked at the thought of losing him maybe sth happened and they got scared or maybe they were just thinking about it idk FUCK I love them so much can't bear the thought of anything happening to them 😭💔

141 + Königs Reactions To You Crying For/Over Them

Warnings: swearing, crying, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, angst

Simon Ghost Riley-

You hadn’t been able to find Simon all day. You chalked it up to the both of you being busy on base, but usually you’d always caught a glimpse of him throughout the day.

You had a gnawing feeling at your chest, but weren’t able to act upon it until later that night. You found Simon on the rooftop of base, staring up at the night sky as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“I thought you quit smoking.” You teased, slowly walking up to him.

When Simon didn’t give his usual witty remark in reply, you knew something was wrong. His eyes remained glued to the stars, and you could see that his eyes were red.

“Simon, are you okay?” You asked, your hand resting on top of his in a comforting gesture. “Talk to me.”

Simon tore his eyes away from the sky, and flicked his cigarette over the railing. “It’s the anniversary today.”

“Anniversary?” You asked, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s been 6 years since they died.” Simon said, his voice hoarse from crying.

“Your family?” You asked, giving his hand another squeeze. In the years you’d been together, Simon had only talked about his family a few times, and you were never one to press the subject. Simon was a reserved man, and you’d don’t want to push your luck with that.

But Simon told you everything that night. Every little detail of his life when he was a child. The kind of man his father was. How his family was murdered and that the only thing he could do for them was to get revenge. No detail was spared, and once he was done speaking, Simon found a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d finally let someone in.

He took a breath, and looked up at you to find you sobbing. You didn’t know what to do, other than throw yourself into Simon’s arms, gripping around his waist at tight as you possibly could.

“Simon, I am so, so sorry you’ve gone through that. I don’t know.. I don’t know what to say other than I’m here for you. I will always be here for you.” You cried into his chest. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I know, kid.” He said, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. “I know.”

John MacTavish-

You awoke in a cold sweat, breathing rapidly as you blinked away hot tears. You’d just had the worst nightmare. You were out on a mission, when Johnny was killed right in front of you. The dream felt so real, and your heart was aching at the very real possibility that you could lose him on a mission.

You looked next to you, and found Johnny’s side of the bed cold and empty. It was clear he hadn’t been in bed for some time.

You threw the covers off of you, throwing one of Johnny’s hoodies on before making your way toward the gym- somewhere you knew he would be at this hour.

You breathed a shaky sigh of relief as you laid eyes on Johnny. He’d worked up quite the sweat, and it was clear he’d been here for some time.

Your legs reacted before your brain could catch up, and you found yourself grabbing Johnny by the collar of his shirt and roughly placing your lips on his.

You pulled back, breathless as you looked up as Johnny with tears in your eyes. He immediately frowned, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart. Are you alright?” His hands rubbed at your arms soothingly.

“I- I had a dream. You were gone and there was nothing I could do.” You sobbed, rubbing away at your tears as your eyes drifted to the floor. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Johnny pulled you close to him, his arms holding you tight against his chest as he pressed kisses along your temple. “I’m here, Bonnie. It was just a dream. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I couldn’t sleep.”

“It felt so real.” You said, pulling away. “I.. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost you. I just.. I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Then don’t. Because I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep coming back to you, okay?” Johnny asked, lifting your chin up so that your eyes met his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled in return, rubbing your teary eyes against his shirt causing Johnny to chuckle softly. “Let us get back to bed, yeah?”

“I’m not even tired anymore.” You mumbled, not pulling your face from Johnnys chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing a beds good for more than just sleeping, eh?” Johnny threw you a cheeky smile, before lifting you in his arms. “Gotta show my babe I’m not going anywhere.”

John Price-

Everything happened so fast. One minute, John was by your side as a hail of bullets rained down on the two of you in the field. The next, John was halfway across the field, oblivious to the enemy behind him. It was a blur, the man raised his gun, and proceeded to shoot John in the chest.

“John!” You shrieked, watching as the man you love fell to the ground. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest as your brain started to malfunction. Nothing else around you in that moment mattered. He couldn’t die, not like this. He couldn’t leave you.

You sprinted across the field, ignoring the shouts of the other soilders around you, your eyes welling with tears as John’s frame came into view.

You skidded to your knees, your hands immediately reaching for John’s face.

“John!” You whimpered, your eyes skimming down the length of his body.

“Baby, hey. It’s okay. The vest caught it. It just knocked the wind out of me.” John reached out to grab your hands, trying to calm you down, to no avail.

Your hands continued to frantically pull at his vest, you needed to see he was truly unharmed with your own eyes. “No! No you got shot!”

John grasped your hands in his gently, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You blinked away tears, your bottom lip wobbling as you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I thought I lost you.”

“I hope you know it’s going to take a lot more than a stray bullet to keep me from you.” John said, before capturing your lips in his. “I promise you I’m okay, alright?”

You nodded, pulling away to help John to his feet. With one final firm kiss, the two of you finished out the mission, neither one of you straying too far from the other.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You twiddled your thumbs anxiously, your eyes darting back to the front door of the base every few minutes, praying Kyle would walk through the door.

141 was expected back three days ago, and according to Laswell they’d gone radio silent the day they were supposed to come back.

You choked back a sob, burying your face into your arms. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if Kyle never came back. He was your everything.

You slowed your breathing, trying to regain your composure when the click of the front door caught your attention. Your head jumped up, your heart immediately skipping a beat as Kyle and the rest of the 141 walked through the front door, looking a little worse for wear.

Without a second of hesitation, your legs moved faster than they ever had in your life as you slammed yourself into Kyle, your arms encompassing his waist in a firm grip.

Your relationship wasn’t common knowledge, so Kyle was quite surprised when you made such a public display of affection, but it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest. His squeezed you in return, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here, babe. It’s okay.”

“They kept saying you weren’t coming back. That you were all dead.” You cried softly, burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest. “I was so scared.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. Everything’s going to be okay.” He promised, holding you tighter. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you remained inseparable for the remainder of the day, neither one of you taking your eyes off each other.

König-

It was no secret that König wasn’t the most popular person on base. Between his height, the frightening mask he wore, and his timid nature, he wasn’t known for making many friends.

It’d come as a shock to the majority of the people on base when it was announced that you and König were a couple.

You’d heard the whispers of course, just as König did. The rude comments thrown about him behind his back, unbeknownst to you, had König’s self esteem plummeting.

You didn’t find out until late one night when you found your boyfriend alone in the weapons locker, looking the most upset you’d ever seen him.

“Babe? You weren’t at dinner, is everything okay?” You asked, pausing a few paces in front of him. You’d never seen him like this and you were unsure of how to react.

“I’m a freak, Maus.” König spoke, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him. “No matter what I do, no matter how good I am out on the field, no matter how well I follow orders… I’ll always be the outcast.”

Your heart shattered at his words, hot tears forming in your eyes as you stepped closer to him. “König, that’s not true.”

König finally looked up at you, a solemn expression on his face- something you never wanted to see on your lover again. “It is. I know you’ve heard what they say. I’m a monster. I’m weird. I look more like the villain than the hero. It’s all things I’ve told myself before.”

“Look at me.” You said, crouching before him. You quickly wiped away the stray tears that began to fall as you spoke. “You are not any of those things. Those people are fools. They haven’t gotten to know the man underneath the mask. On the field, you’re the battering ram. A powerhouse. The perfect weapon. But off the field? You’re the best fucking person I know.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close to you as you rubbed his back soothingly. “I love you so much König. If I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how great of a person you are.”

“I don’t deserve you Maus.” He murmured, squeezing you tighter. “But I thank god every day you’re in my life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ahh not super happy with this turned out- I’m not sure if I captured this request the best🥺

Excited to keep putting out the next few requests. Thank you again everyone for all your support❤️

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig mw2 #soap imagine #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #price imagine #price x reader

2K notes · View notes

dustofthedailylife · 1 month

Text

You were not supposed to hear that...yet

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh.

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.”

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness.

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together.

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance.

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you.

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin alhaitham #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin brainrot #genshin headcanons #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 gi

998 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 6 days

Text

Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios

A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.

Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days

[First story] [More parodies original works]

Case 1: Third contender

Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.

“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.

“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”

You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.

“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”

“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.

“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”

You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.

“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”

A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.

Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”

“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”

What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?

Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.

“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”

The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.

“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”

You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.

“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.

“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”

The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.

The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.

"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"

You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.

"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.

“You belong to us.”

(No slick folds were harmed in the process)

Case 2: Picture frame

The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.

Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.

“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”

The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.

"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"

"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."

Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.

Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:

First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.

Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.

Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.

The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.

“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.

“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are, it’s just…”

You stop in your tracks.

“When did you get this?”

“Today. Do you like it?”

“It’s…nice.”

You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.

It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.

“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”

“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Who? Ah, right.”

Case 3: Hidden Ending

You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.

Not anymore.

You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.

You have been cucked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”

Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.

“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.

#yandere #yandere gamer boyfriend #gamer boyfriend versus tentacle monster #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere meme #yandere parody #yandere imagines #yandere concept

604 notes · View notes

jymwahuwu · 7 months

Text

When I was picking up starfish for Neuvillette, I was illuminated by a light outside the Fortress of Meropide and automatically taken back to prison💀💔 So I'm thinking about the story of the reader trying to escape by diving and being caught by Wriothesley🥴

CW: yandere, abuse of power, non-con, escape failed, non-consensual spanking

Just today. You can escape, now or never.

You've bribed one of the guards, using all the credit coupons you earned from working in the cafeteria. He quietly brings you a set of diving equipment from outside and briefly teaches you how to use it. He's on duty today. On this day, this day only, you can take advantage of the laxity and loopholes in the guards to escape. For the past few days, you had been submissive and radiant in front of Wriothesley, warming his cock for hours. He promised to give you a day off. You can walk around the Fortress of Meropide and chat with people, or you can just sleep and read, write, munch delicious breads and desserts. It's up to you.

And you use it to escape from prison.

You were sent to the Fortress of Meropide for some ridiculous crime… or maybe even something you didn't do at all. It only took three days from the accusation to the conviction. The members of gardes somehow searched your home for "evidence of guilt". The testimonies of the witnesses all subtly accused you, as if a strange net fell from the firmament. You tried to argue and analyze the irrationality of these logics, but tears and logic… were all useless. This ordinary trial, devoid of drama, ended quickly. They escort you to an underwater prison, where you are exiled in full view of the public.

"Mmm, raise your head and let me see you."

Your eyes widened, recognizing him, a customer you met when you worked part-time in the teahouse. He helped you deal with a customer who was harassing you. Dressed in work clothes, you introduced him to new refreshments, giggling at his witty remarks. He always comes on the same afternoon, orders tea and dessert, and sits quietly, waiting to talk to you.

Once, he asked you whether the sun was so bright outside the water, and whether the people at the top of the water were the same as you. You were confused by his question at that moment.

A confession changes something. Such a peaceful life continued until one day, he hinted whether he would be lucky enough to go on a date with you, but… you had not thought about establishing any romantic relationship with the guest. Unexpectedly, the customer just nodded, kissed the back of your hand and left.

(Underwater. Inexplicable charges and sentences.) The mind is buzzing, and those clues and emotions are flooding into you. You have some understanding of what's going on-

"…It's you. It's you who is framing me…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled - with confidence and teasing. "But falsely accusing me will only make your crime worse."

You bit your lip, shaking, tears falling.

Your cell is somehow quite close to Wriothesley's office. He summons you to his office at any time, puts you on his lap, or presses on you at night. You want to resist. Once, you yelled at him in the cafeteria. Wriothesley just held your waist with one hand, took off your underwear, and slapped your exposed and swollen butt. Other prisoners were frightened.

You arrived at the appointed location, and the guard nodded to you. You prepare to put on your diving gear, but your thoughts spread like tree roots - When will Wriothesley realize you're missing? What will he do? Where can you go...Mondstadt? Sumeru is closer, but there are Matras there. They may be working with Fontaine...Wriothesley...He...

However, these are not worth mentioning in the face of freedom. You can't hide your current smile, the joy of freedom dances on the tip of your tongue, urging you to take steps forward. Beautiful sunshine. Market. The sound of people talking. The steam from the machine when brewing tea. Detective novels and newspapers. You will be able to have these again, even if you can't appear openly anymore, but it doesn't matter, anything is better than an underwater prison and a large factory.

Anywhere is better than here…

The moment you were about to dive-

a pair of arms grabbed you.

You started screaming almost immediately, broke into a cold sweat from fear, and struggled like a fish out of water without even looking at who the person behind you was. You just want to dive into the sea, but those arms are unexpectedly strong - just like when he pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips countless times. No room for rejection.

"Hey-hey, calm down, okay? Stop." He takes off your diving equipment. What Wriothesley said was like you were losing your temper, not that he was using a trick to force you to stay with him. You turned around and met his gray pupils, crying. The man still smiled and patted your head, "there there…" But as soon as he finished speaking, you found that the guard you bribed was being subdued and pinned to the ground.

"Take him away. Inform Neuvillette." He said coldly.

The guards received the order, saluted, and then forcibly escorted him away.

"…W-when did you know?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to sniffle and whimper. You just want to ask this, to know how much you've been predicted. Does he laugh inside when he sees you being so well-behaved…? Wriothesley paused for a moment, as if he was considering how to reply, not wanting to hurt your pride. "…Is it important?"

"I want to know."

"I told you, I know everything that's going on here, the difference is whether I want to take action or not." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll use the belt later, by the way."

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x fem reader

1K notes · View notes

definitelysel · 5 months

Text

MELUSINES ON THE MISSION

pairing: neuvilette x reader

synopsis: he takes you to Merusea Village for his birthday as a friend, leaves the village with you as his significant other. All thanks to some wingwomen- no melusines.

contains : reader is a baker by profession, fluff, wingwomen melusines, whipped, lovesick neuvilette, mutual pining, corny, neuvillette can deal with anything expect romantic feelings and gestures, spoilers for 4.2 story quest, references to his birthday letter.

a/n : happy birthday to best boi neuvi. he is deffo a lovesick dude and you can't change my mind.

sequel of this fic , but can be read as a stand alone.

Neuvillette stared at the calender, eyebrows knitted together, pen twirling in his slender fingers.

"Should it be in spring? No that would be inconvenient...same holds true for autumn." He grumbled.

"My Dear Ludex, What's got you so tensed?" Furina chimed in, taking a glance at calender.

"I am trying to settle on a day to serve the purpose of being my birthday." Neuvillette sighed. If only he remembered the actual date. Furina took the pen from his hand and randomly circled a date without sparing a glance.

"18th of December? Why so?"

"My dear Ludex, this is such a trivial matter! Don't waste your energy on this. We must save it for the thrills of the court!" She patted his shoulder and walked off.

18th Decemeber.

That was today.

Neuvillette recalled while signing some documents he had received this morning. He finished up his work and turned around to arrange all the files and declutter the cabinets.

When he glanced back, he saw a small gift on the edge of this table. A smile crept up onto his face as he peeked a bit further to see the head of a melusine sticking out.

"You can stop hiding." He mused as the melusine slowly revealed themselves. Slowly but surely more melusines emerged out of their hiding spots.

"Happy Birthday Monsieur Neuvillette!" They all cheered as Neuvillette had a hearty laugh. The strict and straightforward Chief Justice had a soft spot for the adorable creatures and went to lengths to assure their safety.

"Thank you all. I appreciate your kind gesture." He smiled and picked up the small gift delicately and unwrapped the present. His ears could pick up the melusines muttered amongst themselves.

"...ask him."

"No you ask him!"

"Ask me what?" Neuvillette looked up to see the pleading faces of the Melusines. Yup, they were most definitely trying to persuade him into agreeing to something and Neuvillette knew he couldn't refuse.

"Will you come to Merusea Village this time?" They asked but it sounded more of a demand than a question.

Neuvillette paused. Of course they would ask that. He hadn't visited last year due to the chaos in Fontaine and the death of Focalors. He couldn't bring himself to celebrate his birthday after her death. This time, he agreed on it.

"Sure. I will make sure to extricate myself of my duties and come to Merusea Village." He reassured the Melusines, who bounced up and down in excitement before scurrying out of his office.

Neuvillette sat down and began making preparations so that he could depart worry-free to Merusea Village without any problems arising.

He found his thoughts drifting towards you. A promise he had made you a month ago.

"My schedule is full for the following month. However, I will be sure to pay you a visit after that." He recalled his words to you. Neuvillette had now made up his mind. He was going to take you with him to Merusea Village for his birthday and let all the melusines meet you.

He couldn't help but long for that queasy feeling with stirred in his chest everytime he was in your proximity. He would feel jittery and his palms would feel clammy and sweaty everytime he saw your beaming smile and witty remarks that never ceased to amaze him.

Well that was easier said than done.

"Would like to accompany me to Merusea Village?" He said before facepalming. "No that would be too straightforward...I might sound authoritative and I don't wish to given off that impression..." Neuvillette had been pacing back and forth in front of the bakery and had been rehearsing the past 15 minutes.

He remained apathetic towards the people who would gasp and mutter at the sight of the Chief Justice's unannounced appearance. "Hello, it is my birthday today and I would like you to accompany me to Merusea Village." Neuvillette said before groaning in annoyance.

"No..if I were to straight away declare that it is my birthday then, it would sound self-centered of me." He muttered, his hand on his chin. "Ah, Yes. Greetings, it has been a long time since we last met. According to our public pronouncements, it is my birthday today and since I take out time each year to visit Merusea Village, I would love for you to accompany m–

"It's your birthday?" You gasped, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. You could see him tense up before turning around and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh erm- yes." He fake coughed to compose himself again. "You should've told me, Monsieur! I would've prepared you a special cake!" You suggested. It would've made up for a good and genuine gift.

"No need for it. I was wondering if you would accompany me–"

"To some place you visit every year on your birthday? Sure! I was just finishing closing up the shop for the weekend, so yes I can accompany you!" You chimed at him. Spending time with Neuvillette, that too on his birthday!? Now that was opportunity you weren't letting go.

You weren't going to admit that you had taken interest in him and wanted to get opportunities to get to know him better but since he was a busy man, this was a perfect opportunity!

"Then let's leave, shall we?" He offered his gloved hand to you. You reached out to take it but he retracted his hand back and instead gestured in the direction you had to walk towards.

You could see his ears turn pink as he started to walk away. You were about to hold his hand? Then why did he back away?? Right someone as high and mighty as the Chief Justice won't settle for a ordinary baker–

You shook your thoughts away and followed him.

"Monseiur Neuvillette is here!" The Melusines erupted into cheers and circled around him. You could see him smile and pat their heads. Neuvillette's smile had swept your heart off its feet. Your heart swoll at the sight of him smiling, heartily laughing at the swarm of Melusines. Dare you say, you were trying to stop your face from turning red.

"Everyone, meet [Name]. They are my friend and I presumed you would all love to meet them." He gestured towards you as the little melusine heads turned towards you, judgingly.

"Um- hello." You awkwardly smiled. The Melusines seemed to have marked you off their suspicion list considering they had now dragged you away to indulge in their silly activities.

Chasing other melusines, laughing with them, sitting around the bonfire, making flower crowns, it seems like you had a whole new world. You took the crown to Neuvillette. "Monseiur Neuvillette! Look!" You ran up to him as he turned towards you, with a smile lingering on his face.

"Is that a flower crown?" He mused, inspecting the bundle of flowers. You nodded and reached up to put it on his head. However, as you were putting it on his head, you both found yourselves gazing at eachother, fondly.

His eyes said so much despite his face showing so little. You two were unaware of the conversation between the melusines in the background.

"Oui oui! Monsieur Neuvillette definitely likes her!"

"Oui! You are so right, he looks at her in a certain way!"

"Should we help him?"

"Yes!" They all agreed.

"Monseiur Neuvillette! [Name]!" All of them yelled. You and Neuvillette snap out of it and turn your faces away, both of your cheeks flushing a shade of red.

"You guys should stay for a bit longer!" The Melusines tugged on your clothes and his robe. Eyes widen like puppies. Now how could you refuse to those cute faces.

"Sure! I would love too. It is the weekend anyways." You nodded and Neuvillette also agreed.

Now the plan was in full swing.

Neuvillette went inside the accommodation the melusines had prepared. He walked over to the desk and spotted a neatly kept letter.

Dear Neuvillette,

I wish to tell you that you are really pretty and I find you interesting. I can't seem to find the courage to express it though.

Sincerely,

[Name]

His face flushed red as he did a double take, flipping the letter to assess its legitimacy. The Melusines peeped through the small window, seeing his reaction.

"He is blushing!" One whispered.

"Huh? I never thought those cheesy and corny sentences would actually make him all flushed." Another marveled

"I tried my best okay? It's hard to act like that girl considering we just met her." The third nudged the other.

"You think sending them fake letters is going to work?" The fourth asked.

"Duh!" The first 3 yelled at him.

You, on the hand, were reading the letter given to you over and over again.

Dear [Name],

You seem to have captured my thoughts. I find myself thinking about you every passing moment. However, I don't mind this feeling.

Sincerely,

Neuvillette.

You giggled like a high-schooler with a big fat crush on a ficitional guy. Who knew the Chief Justice was so lovey-dovey! How endearing.

"The plan worked!" The first melusine beamed.

"Both of them hopeless." 2nd one sighed.

"Hopelessly in love!" 3rd one snickered.

"Let's wait and watch." The 4th reminded.

The next day, you both were busy with groups of Melusines, chatting and playing yet both of you kept catching glances at eachother and looked away in embarrassment.

The Melusines rejoiced in their plan of fake letters to both of you, working. This kept on going. Both of you would find a letter in your room each time you came to freshen up or rest.

You and Neuvillette found yourselves blushing and feeling clammy at the letters, unaware of the true sender of these letters, until...

Meet me by the lake, 9pm.

As planned, both of you reached the lake, looking around to find the other. When you caught sight of Neuvillette, your breath was taken away. His white hair framed his fair perfectly and his eyes shined in the moonlight.

"Hello.." you started.

"Hello to you too." He replied. Well this is awkward.

"So um..do you truly believe I am- uh pretty as you mentioned in the letter?" Neuvillette asked, refusing to make eye contact. How fascinating that a man of status and authority is reduced to a flustered mush infront of the person he wishes to be with.

"Huh- what letter? I don't remember sending you a letter." You tilted your head in confusion. You received letters but you never wrote any reply back.

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Then who sent- oh. The melusines.." he sighed, pinching his nose. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience." He apologized.

"Oh.." you sounded disappointed. So it was a lie then? Neuvillette said any of those sweet words which you had read in the letters. You could feel your heart break and chest ache. How did you manage to fall into this rabbit hole of loving the Ludex of Fontaine only to have your hopes crushed.

"What did they write in the letters given to you?" He calmly asked after a brief moment of silence.

"They said that you kept thinking about me and how you liked me and didn't mind the feeling...it is fine though! I am glad it is a lie hahaha." You waved your hands dismissively.

"..it is true." He blurted out. In his mind, it was now or never.

"Huh?" You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"It is true. I am indeed infatuated with you." You could visibly see his face flush pink. After your brain computed the information, you also turned red.

"I- I feel the same-..I always thought that I was too plain and simple for your liking.." you awkwardly muttered.

"No. It may be inappropriate of me to say this but..I believe that you are just perfect. You are perfect the very way you are, [Name]." The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue, though his flustered face told another story.

You hugged him without a warning, nuzzling your face into his chest. The hug felt warm, like the ocean hugging you with their waves as the sun dawned its warmth on your skin. Neuvillette wrapped his arms around you. You could hear his heart thundering against his chest.

"You like me that much huh?" You wriggled your eyebrows, with a teasing grin.

"Let's not bring that matter up." He huffed, trying to maintain his calm and composed composure. Oh he definitely was feeling giddy but why admit it?

"We will miss you!" The Melusines whined and fake cried, clinging to your legs as Neuvillette chuckled.

"Well, let's leave, shall we? It is a long walk back." He asked you, a soft smile on his face, his smile lines crinkling. Oh Archons! If only you had a Kamera on you.

"Mhm!" You nodded. He, again offered you his gloved hand, which you took into yours as you both started your journey back.

This time he didn't back away. Instead, he took your hand firmly in his and walked away, together, with you by his side.

a/n : happy birthday dear Neuvillette. Gosh i love this man so much, it's unhealthy. I can listen to him talk for hours about different tastes of water.

not proof read.

don't copy, plagiarize, repost.

©definitelysel

#genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fontaine #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #neuvillete x reader

1K notes · View notes

hells-greatest-writer · 2 months

Text

Self Love Is Hard.

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem Reader

CW: Angst, Negative Body Image, Fluff, Self-Harm Mention.

Synopsis: You would think that when the King of Hell himself chose you as his love, that any doubts you had about yourself would vanish... but one night the thoughts rear its ugly head once more. Word Count: 3,481

-------------------------------------------------

The night was unusually quiet in the hotel. Most mornings were left with redemption exercises that Charlie had planned with the staff and guests, while the night most people stuck together having fun. Usually, you would be with Lucifer in his workshop, reading in your chair while he worked on his little duck creations. Music would be playing on the radio that Alastor had given you that you begged Lucifer to let you keep. You usually looked forward to most nights knowing it would just be you and Lucifer together, though quiet, enjoying each other's company.

Tonight, though it was different, Lucifer was still in the Greed ring dealing with Mammon's temper tantrum over the loss of Fizzarolli, and Lucifer had to deal with the consequences of it. You knew Mammon's temper was one that Lucifer didn't want to deal with, but you had convinced him to go after Ozzie texted you about the ordeal.

Staring at your phone, you scrolled through the messages to Lucifer with a frown.

12:51pm: How is it going with Mammon?

No response

5:22pm: Alastor found a cat today, Charlie decided to keep it as a hotel pet!

No response

8:07pm: Any idea when you're going to be back tonight?

Seen

Lucifer hadn't been responding all day, and though you knew it was because he was dealing with his duties, you couldn't help but feel a bit saddened by it. Usually, he would respond with a witty comeback about how Mammon was an asshole or make a snide remark about Alastor. Instead, though you were met with the word 'Seen' at the end of your last message that was sent hours ago. It was now rounding to eleven thirty at night, and you had thought he would be back by now.

Most of his meetings didn't last this long, you know from past meetings, what if this time something had gone wrong? What if he got hurt in the Greed ring? Could he get hurt? That thought never crossed your mind as you never seen this man injured before. He was the most powerful being in all of Hell, could he truly be hurt? If he was... especially in Greed what would happen? You knew there was a place called Ransom, would they try to take him there? Sell him off to Charlie for a huge fee?!

All those thoughts ended quickly as your phone dinged to life indicating you got a message. Quickly, you sat up opening the message app seeing it was a message from Lucifer.

Luci-Love: Sorry duckling, Ozzie asked me to join him in Lust for a few drinks and to catch up. I'll be home later tonight.

You read the message, your frown deepening as you typed out a message and deleted it a few times. Your mind was beginning to race as to what he would be doing in Lust. You knew of the Succubuses that had tried to get with him last time you and him went to Lust together. It was for an anniversary dinner a few months back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"That woman over there won't stop ogling you." You huffed as you took a sip of your red wine glaring daggers to the woman staring at Lucifer. Ever since you two entered Lust, you could feel their stares at your boyfriend, feel the way their jealousy grew as Lucifer had pulled you closer to him. You weren't usually one to be jealous, but you couldn't help but feel that envy tug in your chest. The demons of Lust were quite beautiful, sexy even if you were honest, so the fact that they were making heart eyes to the man you were with annoyed you.

"And that man won't stop staring at me either, but you don't seem to mind that." Lucifer smirked puffing his chest out as he knew he was being stared at by so many. Why wouldn't they want to stare at the King of Hell, he was a sight to behold! Especially tonight with the way he was dressed. Instead of his usual royal garb of his white suit, he was in a deep red tuxedo with black trims. His usual white top hat, left at home for the evening, leaving his blond locks styled perfectly back.

You cocked an eyebrow to him as he looked at you with a slight smirk on his lips before you felt him take your hands from across the table you sat at. He gave them a gentle squeeze looking into your eyes. "But darling, my eyes are on only you." He hummed, pulling your hand up to his mouth giving your knuckles a gentle kiss.

The simple gesture helped to calm your jealous rage down for the moment, not wanting to ruin your anniversary with him. Though the nagging feeling in your chest didn't waver as the waitress flirted with Lucifer, and he seemed to flirt back. He later explained he was simply being nice and didn't hesitate to show you just who he devoted himself to that night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That nagging feeling was back in your chest as you remembered the Lust ring. A thought tickling the back of your head wondering how many demons were trying their hand at being with Lucifer since you weren't there. How many imps were throwing themselves at him? You knew that Lucifer was loyal, but you couldn't help the doubt that creeped in through the silence.

With a groan, you set your phone down rubbing your face with your hands. You could feel your mind slowly slipping as you imagined what the women who were fawning over Lucifer probably looked like. Gorgeous tall women no doubt with thin waists and bigger assets that would tempt the weak. You knew your body was nothing compared to theirs. You were barely even average in your eyes.

'What does Lucifer even see in me?' Your mind wandered as you moved off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor of your shared bedroom. You slipped your feet into Lucifer's duck slippers as you grabbed the robe off the headboard and wrapped it around yourself.

You slowly walked towards the bathroom wanting to splash some water on your face. Lose the thoughts that were beginning to eat away at you. Before meeting Lucifer, you struggled to love yourself. You couldn't see what he did, how he seemed to worship your body and love every inch of you. How he was always enamored by your apparent beauty that you struggled to see yourself.

Though through the past almost two years of being with him, he has made you feel beautiful. He reminded you daily how much he adored you and loved you. How you were the only woman he ever wanted to see.

'If that's true, then why wouldn't he just come home? Why go to Lust?' The thought filled your head as you walked into the bathroom flipping the light on. Your eyes went to the mirror and stared over yourself. Your hand tracing your cheeks that seemed too puffy, your fingers tracing your jaw that seemed to jut out too much. Your eyes watched your movements, seeming so dull as they looked lower. Even with the robe on, your eyes were able to pick out the stomach rolls.

Instinctively, you looked down at your stomach, and sucked it in the best you could. It wasn't enough. You could still see your stomach jutting out, mocking you. Your hands grabbed at the extra flesh that was there, squeezing at it as your vision blurred with tears. The women in Lust didn't have this pudge, they didn't have this extra weight around their waists. They didn't have to worry about how their bodies looked in clothes. They didn't have to worry about making sure their skin was fully covered to hide away the stretch marks like you did.

You wished you could just cut the extra flesh off, just grab the scissors that laid in the bathroom drawer and chop away the fat that you were so easily able to grab.

Your hands were shaking now as you looked back to the mirror in front of you, watching your tears roll off your round cheeks. Even your tears were hideous. How did other people cry and not look as awful as you did right now. The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more the tears seemed to blur your vision.

'Hideous beast, he pities you.' That same nagging voice mocked you in the back of your mind. That had to be it, Lucifer only felt pity for you... was only keeping you around till someone better came along or came back. Your mind drifting to Lilith now, the woman who left Lucifer all those years ago.

You had seen images of her, she was breathtaking. Tall, thin and gorgeous with long blonde hair. She radiated beauty. Lucifer and her had been married for eons before you two met, did he still miss her? Did he still find her more beautiful than you?

The phone buzzed from the other room indicating you had a new message which snapped you out of your thoughts, even for a moment. With a deep inhale, you left the bathroom, forgetting why you even went in there in the first place as you walked to the bed grabbing your phone. You were expecting it to be Lucifer, saying he would be home soon. Instead, though, it was just Charlie texting the hotel group chat with a new idea for tomorrow's lesson.

With a quick grunt, you threw your phone across the room watching it slam against the wall by a photo of you and Lucifer. It was a photo of the two of you sitting in a garden together, you are laying across his lap happily giggling at whatever he had been saying at the time. The look in both of your gazes was filled with nothing but love and admiration. The longer you stared at the photo though, the more you were nitpicking each imperfection you saw.

Your hair was too frizzy, your face was too round, the way you were squinting gave you what seemed to be crow lines.

As you stared, your eyes moved to the photo on the dresser. It was a smaller framed photo of Lucifer with Charlie and Lilith. He had offered to get rid of it, but you thought it was a sweet memento for him to have. At the time you at least thought so, but now as you walked up to it and lifted the photo you stared at the other woman in the frame. How did Lucifer go from someone like her, to someone like you? It didn't make sense to you.

As time passed, your mind continued down the dark path of self-hatred and you found yourself sitting on the bedroom floor, your robe long lost leaving you in just your pajama shorts and tank top. In front of you was a broken mirror, shattered after you punched your own reflection. It was obvious that you should clean your bleeding fist, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Maybe you should at least clean the broken mirror before Lucifer comes home. The idea of even moving, though it seemed too much to do, all that seemed to help was sitting on the plush carpet, hugging your legs as you stared at the broken reflection now.

The sound of whirring seemed to snap you out of your thoughts as your eyes looked up seeing the gold and red portal appearing in the room. Through the portal, you saw the purple blue sky of the Lust ring and heard people laughing and having fun. Then, coming into view was Lucifer wearing his usual white and red clothes, except his jacket hung around his arm, and his sleeves were rolled up. The buttons of his white and red pinstripe vest were undone as well, revealing the white undershirt he wore.

After a moment the portal closed, and the room returned to the darkness it had been for the past hour or so as you sulked in the corner.

"Darling, are you awake?" Lucifer asked as he set his coat down on the chair. He didn't notice you weren't in bed yet. He didn't see the broken mirror that you cursed yourself for not cleaning up. Nor did he see you in all your broken glory, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your eyes watched his movements as he moved to the bed only to notice you weren't there. "Darling?" His voice called out till his eyes finally found you.

In an instant, the lights to the bedroom snapped on as he looked at you, his vermilion eyes filling with fright. He took in the scene of the broken mirror in front of you, staring at the broken shards on the floor. His eyes then moved to your body that was trembling, hugging yourself with a bloodied fist. Then his eyes met yours, and the fright filled with a deep sadness as he finally noticed how miserable you looked.

"Oh darling..." He whispered as he walked over to you kneeling taking your hands into his. He examined the wound on your hand, noting the tiny shards of glass that glistened in the blood. He looked upset seeing the injury you had caused yourself, his mind wondering what made you do this.

For the first time in hours, you finally spoke, your voice cracking as you did from disuse "I-I'm sorry." You were sorry now, regretting how you felt, regretting all the thoughts you had knowing this was upsetting Lucifer now. You acted reckless, in your emotions, and now after a long day, Lucifer had to see you wallowing in your pity.

His eyes moved from your hands to your eyes as you spoke. One of his hands tenderly reaching out to cup your cheek to comfort you while the other still held your injured hand, cradling it in his own. "Let's get you cleaned up yeah?" He spoke so gently, as though if he was too loud, you'd break once more. He was obviously concerned about the injury, wanting to make sure it was dealt with before he found out what happened.

You didn't fight him as he helped you to your feet, all the energy you had at this point was focused on not crying once again at how soft he was being with you. You didn't fight as he took you into the bathroom, nor as he guided you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. The cold porcelain of the tub seems to help ground you from the spiraling thoughts in your mind.

Lucifer gently let your hand go as he began searching the cabinet for the first aid kit, muttering under his breath about how it seemed to have grown legs and moved. "Other... Cabinet" you told him, pointing with your good hand at the other cabinet door that he hadn't checked. He glanced over at you with a thankful smile before he grabbed the first aid kit from the other cupboard and sat beside you on the bathtub.

He was gentle as he picked the glass out with tweezers, and careful as he applied the antiseptic onto the wound cleaning it out. The silence of the whole procedure was eating away at you, worried about what he was thinking. He probably thought you were a mess; he probably was annoyed that he had to deal with your mistakes. The fear of him leaving you poking at your mind as tears began to prick at your eyes.

Once your hand was properly cleaned and wrapped, Lucifer brought your hand to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss. His deep red eyes staring into your own, and those thoughts faded immediately. He didn't look angry or annoyed like you were thinking, instead, his eyes were filled with love and care. Just like in the bedroom, he brought his other hand to your face, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eyes with his thumb gliding across your cheek.

"What's wrong Dove?" He spoke so softly still, calling you by your favorite nickname he had given you. "What happened to the mirror in the bedroom?"

Your gaze finally broke from his as you looked away, looking anywhere else than his eyes. How do you explain to someone who loves you so much, that you doubted that love? How do you explain to someone who reminds you of your beauty daily, that you hated your body? The words seemed to be stuck in your throat, but Lucifer waited, he didn't push as the silence festered between both of you.

The man before you simply kept his hand on your cheek providing a subtle comfort as his thumb continued to caress at your tears wiping them away with each swipe. You couldn't speak still, instead moving your hand to your cheek, holding his. His smile was sad, worried about what was eating away at your mind.

"Speak to me Dove... What is hurting you so badly?" He finally pressed the issue after you didn't answer his first questions. All he wanted to know was what was causing you so much grief, so much pain to have you shatter the floor length mirror in your shared bedroom.

When he left this morning, you were happy. You both had shared a tender moment wrapped in each other's arms before he left to go deal with Mammon. Now though, you were like a hallow shell of yourself, and from the damage from the mirror, Lucifer had an inkling of an idea as to why.

This wasn't the first time you spiraled in your relationship together. He has comforted you just as much as you had comforted him in the time you two were together. He knew firsthand just how bad your mind could be to yourself. The nights where he hugged your crying form for hours proved that. Though he has never seen you this bad before. Just how long had you been alone with your thoughts?

The silence seemed to just grow more between you two, before finally, the tension in your throat keeping you from talking seemed to loosen. With a shaky inhale of breath, you looked at his eyes which stared at yours still waiting for an answer.

"Why me?" You began, your hand leaving his that was still against your cheek and instead fidgeted in your lap as your eyes left his. "There are so many other women out there who are far better suited for you..." That tight knot was back gripping your throat once more making it hard to speak, but you pushed through. "S-so many more women wh-who are more beautiful. M-more appealing, More-"

Your voice was cut off as Lucifer's lips pressed against yours gently silencing you immediately. After a moment he pulled back, his other hand now coming to hold your other cheek.

"My love, there is no one in either Heaven nor in Hell whose beauty can outweigh your own. Even if there was, you are the only woman I desire." He spoke slowly and quietly, staring deep into your own eyes. One of his hands moved and took yours, pressing it against his chest. "My heart beats for you, and for you alone." His other hand moved and took your injured hand tenderly, bringing it to his mouth kissing it once more.

These are words you have heard him say before, words uttered during past spirals. Words he would remind you of every chance he could, no matter how much you couldn't believe them yourself. You knew he was being genuine each time, his eyes holding no falsehoods, his voice never faltering as he spoke. It was the truth, and you never understood just why.

"You are the one I want to spend eternity with no matter the cost. The one who holds my heart in such tangles. I thought when I fell from Heaven, that would be the last time I ever fell. Then you stumbled into my life, and I fell even harder, and I do every single day. It's because you mean so much to me my little dove." He went on, taking the hand against his chest, and brought it up to his lips as well, kissing both of your hands.

The tears in your eyes now weren't from the pain you felt anymore, but from his words. Your partner was perfect in your eyes, always knowing the right things to say, the right movements to do. He knew the words that you needed to hear, and didn't hesitate to let you know every thought.

Without another word you leapt at him, wrapping your arms around his chest, knocking the two of you into the bathtub. The dam broke as he in turn wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. You wept in his arms, burying your face in his shoulder. Lucifer’s hand brushed through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to comfort you silently, letting you release the emotions you were dealing with. How foolish you had been to let your thoughts get the better of you. How foolish you were to doubt the love this man had for you. You knew deep down you didn’t deserve him, yet he would beg to differ and would deny those thoughts of yours. He would even counter that he didn’t deserve you. When he fell from Heaven, he didn’t think he would be deserving of such love as yours’s, yet you love him day in and day out by choice, and he didn't think he deserved it either. After some time had passed, you had finally calmed down in his arms. Lucifer's hand not leaving your head as he continued to caress your hair, placing a soft kiss on your temple. Your tears finally had dried up, or well dried more so on Lucifer's red and white vest. Lucifer took the time to sit you both up in the bathtub, having you sit on his lap with one more kiss to your forehead. "Let's not go punching mirrors anymore, okay? If you need an outlet for that rage, we can ask Satan for some pointers." He joked as he stood up lifting you with him in his arms, carrying you as though you were weightless. You couldn't help but choke out a laugh nodding as you laid your head against his shoulder. "I learned my lesson... Mirrors fucking hurt." You responded as he carried you into the bedroom. You both would be okay, even if some days are harder than the other, you both had each other to help soften the blow of those hatred filled thoughts. Even if self love was sometimes hard, you knew that even if you couldn't love yourself, Lucifer had enough love to give you in replace of it.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel oneshot #lucifer morningstar oneshot #lucifer angst #lucifer fluff #TW blood #TW Body image

471 notes · View notes

killsaki · 2 months

Text

aspirations ☆ your boss doesn’t understand why you let unimportant things hold you back when you can do better.

prohero!bakugou katsuki x f!sidekick!reader

3.8k words | old commission <3 | minors dni

cw / tw : cheating (not on reader), toxic relationship dynamics (not w/ bkg), fingering, blackmail, power dynamics.

this is… awkward.

bakugou katsuki feels awkward.

even in his pro-hero status, even with his usual lack of care for others and their affairs, standing at the door of his office, hearing you cry just outside of it... it’s the first time in a long time that he’s been made so… uncomfortable.

you’d come halfway across the country to work as a sidekick at the agency he ran with his old classmate, you were a promising upcoming hero who would surely do numbers once you got the right exposure and the right training. that’s the reason you picked up and moved so damn far from your hometown, from your life, from your boyfriend. at least that’s what you’ve babbled on about to bakugou while the two of you were on patrols.

you were under the impression you’d be working under deku at first and when you’d found out you were going to be working alongside dynamight you’d nearly pissed yourself and gone home, you admitted while slapping his shoulder with a laugh. something which you instantly apologized for and smoothed a hand over where you’d hit as if you’d caused the tank of a man any harm and needed to soothe the pain. you’d admit that he was far from the personality he portrayed for the media and that you’d come to enjoy being around him.

that’s why this was so weird for him. you were always so positive, a clumsy sort of happy. you were always shining, continuing conversations with him even as he shrugged you off, always laughing and tossing some kind of witty remark after he’d tell you to shut up. you were annoying at some point, but you’d pulled your weight during missions and you were a shoulder for him to lean on when he got injuries too severe to keep himself upright. you made the halls of the agency a friendlier place than they’d ever been, even with the kind and smiling hero working just on the other side of the building.

so, who could make someone like you weep like a child?

“you know i get paid in a few days, i can send it back to you.” you speak through a shaky breath and bakugou can’t help but lean closer to the thin wood that separates the two of you. “it’s not like that!” you hiccup, “you’re the one who asked if you could keep my car until i can help you get yours fixed.” the white in front of him blurs as he sorts through his thoughts, who could you possibly be having to explain yourself to? “toru, please. i just want to go to sleep, today was hard enough already.” the boyfriend. “so you really won’t pay for my uber because you’re mad about a picture of me and my boss? a picture of us doing our–”

bakugou doesn’t know why he does it, why he swings the door open and stares at you with such an annoyed expression. but he’s already doing it before he realizes and he regrets it when you jump, cutting yourself short.

“sorry,” you stare at him for a moment, taking in short breaths before you quickly wipe your face, and turn away from him. sniffling as the voice over the other end starts to become intelligible to the hero. “i just wanna get home, i’m just.. i’m sorry.”

there’s a short reply given and then, silence. it takes you a minute, and bakugou stands there waiting the entire time before you pull your phone away from your ear. the screen displaying your wallpaper, signaling that the other person had ended the call.

“i didn’t know you were still here.” you look up at one of the only fluorescent lights left on, blinking away the remnants of water in your eyes.

he sighs, checking the time on his watch before looking back up at you who has yet to spare him another glance. the trains had stopped running long ago, he didn’t need to check the time to tell him that. no, he was just checking to see how fucked up your boyfriend had to be to leave you walking on the streets at the hour, or in the hands of a stranger to get home. and it’s not that you weren’t capable on your own, more so that the guy didn’t understand how much danger it’d be if someone picked up on that pattern and took advantage of you being so tired from a full day's work. he wonders if even you have thought about that. or if that’s what you were thinking about now, as you stand in silence in a way that he’s never witnessed you do before

“i can give you a ride.” he offers and your eyes fall shut, a deep breath making your chest puff slightly and the blonde can’t help but pick up on your relief.

“i’d appreciate that.”

it’s a long, awkward walk out of the agency’s building to where he’s parked his car nearly a block away. the wind is blowing and he couldn’t imagine having to walk home himself like this.

“why don’t you park at the agency’s lot?” you ask arms wrapped around yourself. your voice is still soft but he doesn’t comment on it.

“safer for me not to, i change parking spots every few weeks.” he shrugs.

“you sure do think about everything, don't you, dynamight?” you tease, and it’s like you’re recovering bits of yourself that he can recognize.

“guess so.” he shrugs instead of lecturing you about how you should do the same, another thought too busy working it’s way from his mind to his mouth. “so why are you paying to fix his car while he uses yours?” bakugou lets his thoughts fall off his tongue, and answers your wandering mind that he did overhear most of your conversation.

“i have the job that pays more.” you reach for the seatbelt, buckling it before looking over the console and catching the red eyes that watch you so intently. “why? you looking for a cause to donate to?”

he sucks his teeth and buckles himself in, instructing you to put in your address on the car’s screen. you say something that makes yourself laugh as you lean in to do it, but it goes in one of his ears and out the other. it didn’t make any sense for you to be with someone who didn’t support you fully, someone who didn’t trust you. sure bakugou didn’t know all the details of your relationship– maybe you’d offered it up to him one day when he was too focused on how your eyes lit up to pay attention to what you'd been saying to him. but he wouldn’t know that now.

why would you of all people put up with that?

“are you gonna take me home or should i be fearing for my safety?” you raise your eyebrows to exaggerate a skeptical look, something that the blonde’s face twists up and makes you laugh. but the thought of your tears streaked face earlier appears back in his mind and he decides to let you off without a remark of his own.

“you could’ve just asked for a ride.” he glances over at you once he rolls up to a stop light and his heart feels like, just for a moment, that it stops. the sight of you under such soft red light, lips still swollen from the way you’d bitten them as you calmed yourself from crying, it does more to him than he’d like to admit. it takes everything in him to tear his gaze back to the road once the traffic signal turns green.

“if toru found out i was alone with you outside of work, let alone in your car,” you huff out an unamused laugh and it sounds awful in comparison to the sweet, hearty one he’s grown used to. “he would have a fit.”

“sounds like a real perfect guy.” bakugou doesn’t look at you as he follows the gps and turns the next corner, but he can feel your eyes on him. how they trace from the neons shining off his wristwatch up his toned arms that are littered in pink scars, can feel the heat of your stare when it’s guided to his chin where he wonders if you can see the stubble he didn’t care enough to shave away this morning.

“he’s alright.” you finally respond and it makes the prohero next to you feel ill. “my high school sweetheart and all… i’m sure it’s just a rough patch.”

“right.” it wasn’t his place to meddle into whatever you have going on in your personal life. but you were one to look at the brighter side of things, he wonders if that was something you’d always done or something you forced yourself into. “a rough patch.”

the time of arrival for the destination keeps creeping closer and bakugou doesn’t know why it’s bothering him so badly.

“thanks for the ride home, mr dynamight, sir.” you salute him and he just blinks, making you giggle as you gather your things from his car.

“bakugou,” he takes your cup from his console, despite the passing thought that the colors look nice against the ones of his car’s interior. “calling me bakugou outside the workplace is fine.”

you hesitate before taking the cup, and he hates the smile that creeps up on your face when you finally do grab it from him. why the hell would he say something unprofessional like that?

you skip off with a “goodnight, mr. bakugou, sir.” and head up to your front door without catching the sight of how dramatically he rolls his eyes, or the slight lift of his lips when he thinks about how your voice sounds addressing him as something other than his trademarked name.

and from there, it’s a slippery slope, he comes to realize.

one ride turns into twenty and soon enough he’s sitting in his office chair every night waiting for you to come to tell him that you’re ready to go home.

he finds the same kind of habit forms around your shared lunch break when the two of you are working in the office rather than on the field. you’d always walked past his office, but after a comment on one of those drives to your place, you’d started to welcome yourself into his office to compare lunches. and now he can't seem to bring himself to take a bite until you’ve wandered in and finished your bit.

like now, he sits with the same lunch he’s been eating since monday because he meal prepped this week, and he needs you to come in and tell him how boring it must be eating the same thing over and over. his fingertips pad impatiently at the wood of his desk, you're always in here by now.. now that he thinks about it, you hadn’t come to ask if his coffee was bitter after getting it for him this morning.

his phone buzzing in his slacks pulls him from the thought and throws him into another one.

deku: hey, i know you’re being kind to the sidekick and all… but didn’t you say her boyfriend would be mad if he knew you were giving her rides? you should think about how that would affect her working here.

the blonde sighs and he doesn’t even want to respond to the message. he’s already on edge after starving off his lunch, plus the fact you’re not being normal today, why is midoriya suddenly interested in how your professional relationship affects your at home life?

bakugou: would you rather some villain stalk her schedule and kidnap the sidekick that you requested to come out here?

he types out, and he’s right. he knows he’s right, he’s keeping you safe by picking you up and dropping you off from his car's undisclosed location.

deku: that’s not what i meant

bakugou taps the side of his phone as the three dots come and go as midoriya no doubt types up a paragraph that bakugou will most likely not read. where the hell are you?

bakugou: i’m just making sure she gets home alright.

he sends, hoping it’ll be enough to end the conversation. he locks his phone and places it on the table next to his meal, the meal that, after eyeing the door once more, he starts to dig into. it’s a few minutes before he gets the next notification, but when he reads it, he’s stuck staring at the chair you’re supposed to be in while he finishes eating.

deku: are you sure that’s all it is?

—

the two of you have grown close. that much is obvious to everyone who witnesses you by his side. he wouldn’t call himself fond of you, but he knows it’d be a lie to say he hates your presence, or that he doesn’t mind the absence of it. what he doesn’t understand is why the feeling in his chest is so intense when you walk in for your routine ride home with a blank expression and a single piece of paper in your hand.

“what is this?” he accepts it as you offer, and he’s half expecting it to be some stupid printed-out meme, or maybe even you showing off an email about a magazine cover that you landed. but instead, it’s formally addressed to him as–

“my letter of resignation.”

to say bakugou is confused is an understatement.

“i enjoyed working by your side. it was an experience i am sure will forever remain unmatched in my career.” your voice is shaking. the blonde tries to focus on the words in ink in front of him but nothing seems to register even as he eyes them over and over. “i’m very thankful for the time i was allowed to spend here, please don’t think otherwise. i’ll be sure to thank mr. deku as well for giving me the opportunity since–”

“why are you leaving?” his words come harsh, his face twisted up in a way he’s never shown to you and he’s not surprised when even then you don’t finch much.

“i need to go back home.” is all you let out, looking everywhere but at him.

he sits on it for a moment, that feeling in his chest starts to swell as he realizes the motives behind your actions today, behind this damn resignation letter.

“don’t you wanna be a big name pro?” he discard the paper on his desk as he pushes himself out of his chair to approach you. “so why are you throwing away your best chance— your only real chance at that for some small-town boyfriend?”

your eyes go wide as they tear from the back of his computer monitor to look into his own. the look of offense on your face is prominent but it’s nothing in comparison to the offense bakugou feels.

“it’s so much more than just my boyfriend.” you scoff, eyebrows knitting together. “what would you know?! you’re just my boss, you have no idea what my relationship is like.”

he’s never seen you mad before, you look… good.

“i know you’re sending money back home to cover his expenses. i know you’re paying for everything you have here all on your own.” he steps towards you with each sentence, making you take a step back in time with his strides. “i know he doesn’t check to see if you make it home safe, i know you’ve slept on the floor because you can’t afford furniture and food.”

you might not have told him much about your boyfriend, but he does know that he doesn’t deserve you... not the way that bakugou does.

“i never told you any of that..” your hand feels for the arm of the couch you’ve been backed into.

“you’re obvious.” he shrugs and it’s now that you start to breathe in short pants, your eyes dart to the door— unlocked but closed. then to his chest— he’s big, much bigger than you, stronger than you. “the last thing i would do is hurt you.” he tilts his head and your breathing clams, if only a little.

“sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking.” you whisper, you bring a hand to your forehead as you fall to sit on the arm of the couch. “today has just been... it’s been too much.”

bakugou nods. he hasn’t seen you cry since the first time he cared to listen to you speak. he doesn’t want to see that again, but he’d be bitter if the chance of it was taken away from him altogether.

“but you’ll stay.”

“i– i can’t stay. i’ll lose toru, i’ll lose the house,” you start gesturing around at nothing, voice sounding hollow. “i can’t stay bakugou.”

“if you go there’ll be nothing waiting for you.” he shrugs, grabbing your hands when they freeze. “i have toru’s information already. i’ll send him one of the many pictures you’d decided to take on my phone, while you were in my car.” the words taste awful off bakugou’s tongue but he doesn’t stop speaking them.

“why would you?” he can’t bring himself to look at your expression anymore.

“i wouldn’t even need to say anything then, i think that’d be enough.” you make a choked sound and he’s sure there are tears in your eyes. “so you’ll stay here.”

“that’s not fair.” your hands fall limp in his hold and he finally looks at you, the tears stream down your face and bakugou doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore.

“your boyfriend’s in the way of your dream.” he swallows, convincing both you and himself but his sure tone never falters. “you can’t do anything for yourself if you go back to him. you can’t accomplish anything unless you’re here,” you blink away the tears, big eyes staring up at him. “unless you’re with me.”

you take in a shaky breath through trembling lips but nod all the same. you lean forward to rest against bakugou’s hard abdomen, your hands falling from his hold as you move. he has to stop himself from letting out a smug chuckle at the way you instantly come to him for comfort, to think you’d almost slipped through his hands.

“i’m tired of thinking about this.” you hiccup and throw yourself back on the cushions with one arm thrown over your eyes. parts of yourself that bakugou could recognize returning once again, only the way your head rolls to your shoulder and the look in your eyes as you peek up at him is something he’s never seen from you before. “help me?”

what you’d been alluding to is made clear when you reach out a hand for him, one that he doesn’t hesitate to take. he doesn’t even bother to speak any other word before he’s pressing his lips into your own, strong arms maneuvering you on the uncomfortable faux leather so quick it makes a loud noise as your skin rubs against it. he nearly moans at the way your arms wrap around his neck, the way they tangle into and tug at his hair while he slots himself between your legs.

the instant you press your hips up against him, he realizes how wrong he’s been. bakugou does favor you, he favors everything about you. he favors the way you talk shit to him, the way you laugh, the way you roll your eyes, how differently you act in interviews versus in his office, and he favors more than anything how you feel pressed up against him.

he all but tears your shirt off of you, and then your pants, both thrown to a grave somewhere on the rugged floor. his hands are rough as they glide down your body. his pads press in between your collarbones down between your breast, round your ribs, and down to squeeze at your hips.

“hurry up,” you whine, bringing your heel up to push at the waistband of his pants.

“always rushin’ me.” he sucks his teeth, but his voice is soft as he speaks.

he shivers at the sounds you make from his fingers gliding along the seat of your panties, barely damp, likely from your nerves— but bakugou can fix that. kisses are pressed to your neck, something much sweeter than anyone would expect, aside from of course you. you, the sweet little thing who saw past the hard shell everyone else encased him in, though he didn’t do much to prevent it.

his thumb finds its way to your clit, pressing circles on it through the fabric and your head falls back against the cushions, small gasps and whines following his every movement. it’s not until you start to push against him that he finally pulls your underwear to the side.

your sounds easily double in volume when he finally makes contact with your heat directly, a few more wet shapes rubbed into your clit before his fingers trail down to your entrance and you pull him by his hair from your neck, forcing him into a kiss while he presses a single thick digit into you. he rolls his wrist, hoping to stretch you a bit more before adding another, but your desperate hands wind into his shirt and he can’t help but give in.

he adds another and scissors them inside you, prodding to find that spot that had your lips parting, mind and body have given up on being able to kiss him as the pleasure takes over you. you’re dripping down his hand by the time you start babbling nonsense, and it’s all he can do to fuck his fingers into you despite the way you claw at his back, how your legs squeeze around him, and your pussy clamps down on him.

and when his name tumbles out somewhere along your nonsense as you cream down into his palm, for the first time in a long time, bakugou feels warm inside, something beyond the heat between his legs.

he lets you hold him while your breathing settles, even keeps his fingers inside you as you come back down to earth. he wants so bad to fuck you right now, to have you cry his name again and again as you make a mess on his cock this time... but he also wants to never let you move from under him, to keep himself wrapped around you at all times.

“i don’t wanna sleep on the floor anymore,” you whisper, and the blonde wonders how your boyfriend would feel if he knew that forcing you to turn in a resignation would lead to you being putty in his hands.

“come sleep at my place.”

you nod against him and, slowly, he helps to clean and dress you before you let him drag you off the couch.

“you’re always so helpful, baku’.” you rub your eyes as you lean against him, mindlessly following him to the car you’d been mistaken to get months ago.

but bakugou will later reiterate his intention were just truly just to help. just like when it came to officially end your relationship with toru, which would happen tonight after bakugou sends the loser a picture of you fast asleep in the same bed as pro hero dynamight—right where you should be.

#bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #my hero x reader #my hero smut #boku no hero smut #boku no hero x reader

621 notes · View notes

limarieb · 2 months

Text

i come around (when you least expect me)

Pairing(s): emo!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/parties, high school au, Wanda lowkey kinda mean but i SWEAR its lowkey, non-graphic scenes of kissing/making out (no smut... yet...?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: sorry for my lack of posting, but i promised it would come soon(ish)! here's that 100 follower special i promised — oh, and thank youuuu all for the follows and support... i love you all <3 (title from 'heartbeat' by childish gambino) ... also, requests/asks are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Pain. Throbbing, aching pain. The discomfort from your current hangover surrounded every inch of your mind, physically and metaphorically. Well, almost every inch... because memories from last night were finally reaching the surface now that you have awoken, conscious and, unfortunately, sober.

The sweet lips on yours.

The feeling of skin, hot and sweaty, against your own.

The perfect dichotomy of soft hands on your body as they gripped at your skin roughly, almost primal in nature.

And they all belonged to your best friend's twin sister.

You started to get ready for the day — whoever talked you into attending a party the day before the school year began should be arrested and fined for such a disservice.

Thankfully, you planned enough ahead to bring clothes to the twins' house for today. The outfit you had chosen was relatively casual: the worn-down, navy blue sweater that had been your father's during his college years and the comfiest pair of jeans you could find.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, you finally felt the extent of how poorly your stomach felt due to the heavy drinking from the previous night. You opted for something easy, pulling the first box of cereal that your fingertips touched out of the cabinet. You never liked cereal too much, but anything went during difficult times like these.

As you poured yourself a bowl of the bland cereal, footsteps sounded throughout the house. They were coming closer and closer to your location. You assumed it had been Pietro.

You were... close — it was her.

When you looked up from the bowl to see who the person was, you were displeased to find the girl standing there, simply observing you with a smirk on her face. It reminded you of the villainous expressions from the television: conniving and mischievous.

"Stop staring at me like that," you sneered, trying to keep your volume low enough that Pietro would not hear you but loud enough that she would sense the harsh seriousness of your tone.

Wanda maintained her gaze, simply tilting her head as if to challenge you, "Like what?"

"Like you know what I taste like."

The faux innocence in her expression slightly faltered. Her eyebrows rose, the shock from your words evident on her face. As Wanda opened her mouth to form another witty remark, the sound of a door opening made the two of you go effectively silent. Wanda looked toward the direction of the sound, awaiting his entrance in a way that demonstrated her indifference toward last night's events. You, on the other hand, completely averted your gaze from both of the twins due to the shame that coursed through your veins.

The rational part of your brain begged for you to tell Pietro about what happened last night; it would resolve the guilt that clawed at you with each passing minute, lifting the weight off of your shoulders entirely. Yet, each time that you began to plan the exact words of your apology, any ideas you had conjured seemed to fall short. It was not as if you could search the internet for a script concerning "how to tell your best friend that you mistakenly (but not so mistakenly that you stopped it) hooked up with his emo, bitchy twin sister at a party."

Your eyes swiftly returned to Wanda, watching her inch closer to where you stood by the counter. She reached her arm behind you, leaning in close enough that your breath mingled with hers. If asked, you would completely and utterly deny that part of your mind was anticipating the vibrant feeling of her lips on yours again; however, the fleeting glance at her lips revealed otherwise.

Wanda noticed. Of course, you would fall into her trap, and she noticed. She smirked in response to your reaction before leaning away and taking a few steps back. A banana was in the hand that had been behind you. Scoffing at yourself, you cannot believe that you let her tease you again.

"See you at school, Y/N," she declared with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down once more before waltzing out of the front door.

You took a deep breath, attempting to recuperate your mind for the day ahead of you. As soon as Wanda had left, Pietro walked into the kitchen, ignorant of what had just occurred.

Standing still as if in a daze, you could only sense Pietro race around the kitchen, grabbing various items he needed for the day ahead. After a few minutes, he slowed to a stop after closing the door to the fridge. He must have sensed your unusual stillness, then he asked, “You okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shakily nodded. “All good,” you forced yourself to stutter out. Not even you believed your words, but it seems as if Pietro was too busy in his own world to truly notice the lack of honesty in your reply. “I’m all good. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

The two of you scurried out the door in the hopes that you had not missed the bus. It was a bad habit that you both had been trying to break for years now but remained relatively unsuccessful.

As the two of you approached the classic, yellow school bus that sat on the corner of the street, Pietro raced ahead in order to save you the extra minute of running. He gracefully entered the bus, climbing its stairs with ease; meanwhile, you were audibly out of breath and tried to ignore the glances the bus driver gave to the two of you.

Pietro, like most mornings, found himself sitting with some of his friends from the cross country team, leaving you to fend for yourself. You quickly scanned the bus for an empty row so you could sit by yourself, but you quickly realized that was a luxury you could not afford after such a late arrival. While you could not find an empty row, you were about to find a single empty seat towards the back of the bus.

You shuffled your feet to the empty seat but stopped as soon as you noticed its other inhabitant: Wanda.

Bile suddenly formed in your throat at the thought of having to spend more time with her — more specifically, without her brother, your friend, and coincidentally the only person to keep her dangerous, spontaneous nature in check, present. You approached her, simply attempting to take the bus ride silently and one minute at a time. You swore to yourself internally that you would not respond to her, irrespective of whatever she may say or do.

The bus slowly pulled away from the stop and started its route toward the high school. For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going unusually fine. Wanda sat silently beside you, wired earphones trailing from her phone to her ears. As her gaze remained fixed toward the window, you wonder if she had even noticed that a person had now occupied the seat next to her, let alone that person being you.

You naively took her initial lack of response as a victory. With a sigh of relief, you allowed your body to relax in the seat and closed your eyes for the remainder of the ride.

Then, you felt something.

The brush of something on your thigh.

You opened your eyes to scope the scene, making sure you had not imagined the sensation; however, it seemed to be just that: nothing. The only thing positioned in your lap was your backpack filled with your books for the upcoming year. You closed your eyes and began to drift away once again. Maybe you were going crazy, you pondered. (Maybe you could blame your irrational behavior last night on such insanity. Would the insanity defense work for things like that, too?)

Then, you felt it again.

Without much hesitation, your eyes shot open once more. Only this time, you were met with the sight of a hand, decorated with several rings and chipped, black nail polish, situated comfortably, almost possessively, on your upper thigh. You peered toward Wanda's face, which was still facing the opposite direction, attempting to gauge her reaction. Yet, you saw nothing; her expression was rather unchanged, leaving you more confused than anything.

Before you could think about what to do about the situation, the bus drove over a mountainous bump on the road. You internally cursed the local government officials for the obstacle, for whether it occur by accident or intention, Wanda's hand flew directly into the apex between your thighs. Eyes widened in shock, your lips drift open as you gasp from the sensation.

It finally gave you the courage, however, to shove her hand away, but not without seeing the signature smirk she acquired in the process. Anger began to boil inside you. You repeated to yourself that it was because the brunette's touches were unexpected — not that she had been victorious. In the end, you just silently thanked yourself that you had chosen jeans, or else that could have ended much differently knowing the Sokovian.

Days turned into weeks, each bringing the routine of snide comments and less-than-playful banter between you and Wanda. You still had not found a way to enlighten Pietro about your issues with his sister (both the endless torment and... that night), given that (1) she was his twin sister and (2) she always seemed to be around. The cynical part of your brain believed that her unusual proximity was purposeful — she probably just wanted to see the fallout.

While the two of you had not gone further than your typical banter again over the past few weeks, though, you still felt incredibly agitated. (You chalked it up to anger because it definitely could not be the possibility of pent-up sexual frustration between the two of you.)

However, one day differed from the rest.

You noticed early in the day that Wanda was being extraordinarily quiet. Part of you was thankful, praying that her silence would continue until the end of the school day.

It was a Thursday in late October. Like most days, you followed Pietro to his home after school, venting to him about how you were excited it was Friday tomorrow because you were simply over all of the midterms being assigned and just wanted time to relax.

(You continued to ignore the underlying guilt that sat in the pit of your stomach from remaining silent about everything that happened with his sister weeks before; you attempted to ignore it even more by rationalizing your silence, stating it was "only one time" and a "mistake that would never even happen again.")

As you entered the house, Pietro immediately drops his bag on the floor and runs up to his room. You rolled your eyes at this typical, teenage-boy messiness, and opted to place your bag on the hooks that Agatha designated for such items.

Feet padding across the wooden floors, you wandered into your happy place of the home: the kitchen. You opened the fridge, looking for a small snack that could satiate your hunger until dinner. Finding nothing of interest, you closed the door. Your body jumps, though, at the figure that had been hiding behind it: Wanda.

The patience you once had had officially worn invisibly thin.

“What the fuck, Wanda? What do you want from me?” you asked exasperatedly, the energy you once had for such shenanigans having become completely depleted after a difficult week of school. "Listen, I don't know what I ever did to you for you to treat me like this, but I'm over it."

“Are you…” She started but quickly cut herself off. Her head tilted, trying to figure out if you really did not know the answer. You noticed the way her mouth opened and shut out of pure bewilderment; while you normally would make a comment about it in an attempt to tease her in return, you figured now was not the time. When Wanda found no evidence of lies in your expression, she continued to speak, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

You threw your head back, a chuckle escaping from the back of your throat, primarily due to the exhaustion caused by this long-awaited conversation. “No, Wanda, I don’t remember! If I had, don’t you think I would have apologized by now! Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I would have given you an “I’m sorry” so we could have avoided all of this? So that I would not have to deal with your bullshit for the past decade? So tell me, Wanda, what did I do to deserve this?”

“First day of school. Second grade. Recess," she spat out. Her words were so quiet but uttered with such venom.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random series of words, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with your lack of memories. While you could not remember what made her act this way, it had evidently stuck with her for years.

"It was my first day at this school," she began, her expression turning from red, hot anger into a stoic and collected nature. "Pietro and I had just moved to the States after losing our parents a few months before. Agatha was the only family member, albeit a distant family member, who was alive and willing to take us. So, we left everything behind and moved here."

You already knew the majority of this information, mostly after hearing it in brevity from Pietro. He had never truly talked about his time in Sokovia in depth, finding it distressing and uncomfortable to recall. You only discovered this one day when you both were 9, and you had followed him to his house after school for a play date. In a state of innocent curiosity, you asked him why he called (what you had assumed to be his mom) by her first name upon entering the house. He explained the basics, and that was the end of that. You understood and respected his quietness on the subject since then.

"Pietro has always been the better twin — better at school, better at sports, better at making friends. And, I'm just... me. So, he has always been better at the whole 'socializing' thing, even as an immigrant child with little knowledge of the States. Everybody seemed to like him, I guess. I, on the other hand, refused to talk... well, for the most part, at least. Anyway, on the first day of the second grade, my first day of school here, I was sitting on the edge of the concrete, picking at the grass."

She paused her speech, shifting her gaze to meet yours. "Then, this girl approached me. I thought, 'Wow, maybe I will have friends, maybe I will have friends and will finally be like Pietro.'” Wanda shook her head, shutting her eyes as if to remember each minute, each second, of that fateful day. Her accent was unconsciously growing thicker by the minute. “So, I greeted them, introduced myself like our mama had taught, and asked if they would like to play with me. You want to know what she did, Y/N?"

She opened her eyes, locking them with yours in a harsh stare. "'You talk funny,'" she hissed. "That's what the girl had said before running back to her group of friends. Truthfully, it's not even that deep of an insult, but it somehow spread like wildfire how the 'new girl' was abnormal, how she couldn’t even talk normally, how she was dirty with her dirty shoes and probably had fleas from her even dirtier home country, how no one could touch her or else they would be 'infected' by her."

“Why are you telling me this?” you stuttered out. “What does this have to do with you being a complete and utter bitch to me for the past ten years?”

Wanda huffed, “That girl was you, Y/N.”

Every breath you had suddenly left your chest. Your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond, “What?”

“You say I made your life a living hell? Bullshit. You ruined mine. You have everything I have ever wanted: friends, good grades… parents,” she said, her tone becoming soft with insecurity toward the end. “You even got my brother, my fucking twin brother! For fuck's sake! And yet, you still had to ruin my life."

"Wanda, I'm..." you began, but all of the words you have acquired in your seventeen years of life were failing you. "I'm sorry. I- I don't..."

This time, Wanda laughed, but it was not the depressed, low chuckle like before. No, this was something else entirely, a burst of maniacal laughter that indicated an unfound level of absurdity. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"'You don't' what, Y/N?" the brunette taunted.

You decided to be honest with her, "I don't know what to say."

"Of course not. 'Little Miss Perfect' never knows what to say when she finds out she's not so perfect after all."

Your sympathy gradually faded to the original anger you had been feeling. Your eyebrow involuntarily quirked, "Hold on, now... I never claimed to be 'perfect.'"

“Oh, please,” she replied, belittling your attempts to argue her predetermined notion of you. She began to mock you, “My name’s Y/N. I have the best grades in the entire school, all my friends love me, and, at night, my parents tuck me into bed and call me their little princess…”

Slowly but surely, your vision turned red. You stepped closer to Wanda, hoping the proximity would deter her from making additional snide comments about you.

“We all have our shit, Wanda,” you sneered. “You better quit now before I give you a reason to.”

She scoffed, “Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy I…”

Her words were cut short by the placement of your lips on hers.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why you decided that this was the best course of action; perhaps your brain was simply shut off by the rage coursing through your body. Yet, that confusion did not stop you from continuing. In fact, it did not hinder either of you from continuing.

The kiss was forceful, containing all of the emotions you both have felt since that fateful night. Her mouth pushed and pulled roughly against yours; you returned the energy just as much. There were no thoughts, no rationality, behind both of your actions — only pure lust and passion.

Your hands started at her jaw but slowly drifted upwards toward the roots of her brown, messy hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. Parting from your lips for the first time in what must have been minutes, she released a moan from the sensation and continued to drift southwards toward your neck. As her teeth scraped at your pulse point, you were finally brought back to the reality of the situation.

You used the hands that were still threaded within her hair to pull her away from your neck; although, neither of you immediately stepped away from the other. You took the opportunity of your closeness to note how swollen her lips had become, how hot she looked under the dimness of the kitchen lighting.

"What are we doing?" you mumbled into the open air, not exactly expecting a response from the Sokovian in front of you.

She remained quiet, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. Her tongue darted out briefly, licking over her own lips in (what you assume to be, at least) preparation for more.

So, you seized the opportunity of her quietness to continue, "I'm not... I'm not perfect, okay? My parents... it's complicated. Sure, they're alive and whatnot, but... they don't care. Honestly, half of the shit I do — the grades, even — I do it so that they might finally pay attention. So, like I said, we all have our own shit to deal with."

Her lips parted, eyes stilled and staring into yours.

"And, l am sorry that that comment fucked you up as a kid. If I had known, even as a kid, I would've not said anything like that. I know I can't reverse time but..."

This time, her lips effectively ended your speech; however, the kiss was much softer than earlier, showcasing a newfound appreciation and, perhaps, feelings.

"I know," she acknowledged in a whisper after pulling away. "I'm... I'm sorry, too, by the way. I shouldn't have acted like that — it was cruel. We can talk more about it, about our... issues, later, but um- I just want to start over. Just us."

You nodded in affirmation, a blush flooding your cheeks.

"Just us."

The two of you sealed the agreement with a soft peck.

The sound of a glass shattering on the floor captured the attention of both of you, ending the kiss with the redirection of your heads in order to discover the culprit.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Pietro stood surrounded by broken glass splattered across on the wooden floor.

With widened eyes, you said the first and only thing that came to mind: "Oh, shi—"

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

528 notes · View notes

n3ptoonz · 4 months

Note

Ok ok ok we got the boys getting walked in on soooo what if Earthrealm boys walked in on US?

i knew somebody would have this idea 😈 REVERSE REVERSE 🔄

these are gonna be blurbs instead of bullet points

explicit content under the cut; implied scent knk mention, sphinx can't stick to a theme to save her life

Scorpion

Kuai Liang was shocked at first, but quickly understood. He's gone a lot and knows that. He's not upset at all by this, what gets the job done in his absence is what he roots for, but he'd still rather be the one making you sound like that. Lowkey is impressed with how well you must've been going at it too. 'Have I ever made them sound like that...? Hold up-' he thinks. Once you see him and are like woahh when did you get here he's like "Curiosity got the best of me, I'd like to help if you'll have me." as if you weren't already jumping on him before he finished his sentence.

Sub-Zero

"You just couldn't wait, could you?" Bi-Han said, standing over you. You jumped at the sight of him looming over your almost fucked-out glow from your own hands and splayed out on the couch; just how the fuck was he so quiet?! As you nervously try to explain, thinking he's actually upset at you, he interrupted you again by grumbling and picking you up to properly escort you to your shared bedroom. He laid you down and got on top of you, pressing himself between your legs. "I'm not angry with you. I just wish you had waited." he said before letting himself hang free. "But I don't mind finishing the job."

Kenshi Takahashi

When Kenshi checked out where the noise was coming from, he caught you grinding against a lounge pillow with his shirt over your nose. Once your eyes opened and saw him standing in the doorway half shocked half into it, you kicked the pillow off the bed and sat up. "No, no, please, don't let me interrupt." he teased half jokingly. Honestly he could see himself encouraging the concept. He has many duties to attend to, so who would he be to tell you not to tend to yourself? He walked further into the room with a more serious look on his face, he really wanted to apologize he couldn't always be there, but since he was now there's nothing stopping him from helping his lover out.

Smoke

Tomas was red as a tomato. He planned to come over to your place and cook together to make up for lost time since he's often very busy. He had a key to your house so he naturally just walked in, set his stuff down, and went to go find you. "Hey, you ready to cook-" cue a Disney studio audience gasp. After like a full 60 seconds of him stuttering over his words he apologized many times before you stopped him. You offered for him to help you out, and now he was pushing down his own immediate boner, but a simple 'yes' sealed the deal for the both of you.

Johnny Cage

This sexy fucking prick. Unbeknownst to you Johnny just sat and watched from the door of your bedroom, truly fascinated by how needy you were for him. Before you could even reach a semblance of climax, here he waltzed in all smug, "11 times." he said. You gasped and threw the covers over yourself, asking what the hell he's on about now (you're used to him popping up unannounced). "You said my name 11 times, new record babe." He knew your next remark would either be witty or frustrated, so he spoke again. "Ah, ah, ah, let's make it 20."

Kung Lao

Kung Lao is also another sexy fucking prick, but a little worse. You have been walked in on before but not thwacking the noodle or flicking the bean, something less crazy like changing, and yet he still was a teaser. You recalled if he was coming over today and reached the conclusion that he would have no reason to, so you got to work. Silly silly you, Johnny and Lao are known for showing up out of nowhere, you knew that! So there you were doing your thing, and boom, Kung Lao pulled up and caught you by accident. He had no regrets though, all you saw looking at you was a smirk, clear idea on his face, and his signature dimples smiling back.

Raiden

Look guys idgaf what anybody feels or says, I can say he's baby while also knowing a lot, obviously. Raiden is a grown ass man with a dick and balls, but he's never walked in on someone before. Me personally I believe he'd be in shock, and he was. Why? Not only because he walked in on AND interrupted your own time, but you were whispering and moaning his name too. Like Smoke he'd be shifting where he stood trying to control his aching boner, but surely once you gave him the okay to enter your room, hell, even touch you? Game fucking on. He's still nervous but wouldn't let that stop him!

Liu Kang

Liu Kang may be a God, but obviously he cannot tell the future. He just created the world and tried to maintain peace as much as he could. He can predict things, and that included what you were doing while he wasn't there. He figured with how much he was gone it wouldn't be surprising if you took matters into your own hands, and he was right. He slowly rounded the corner to the sight of you using some kind of toy and muttering incoherent words that lead to his name somewhere in there, but it didn't bother him. In fact, when he made his presence known he offered to help including the toy if you wanted.

Geras

Lowkey I don't think Geras would know what to do. He doesn't interact with mortals much technically outside of Liu. So like, if you were waiting for him back at his chambers especially when he took so long to come back due to business, he'd be stuck in his tracks. He'd say there's no need to apologize but rather explain your desire to him so he could fulfill whatever void was left in his absence. I feel like he'd be reassuring too if you were embarrassed and happily make your wishes his command.

a/n: OKKAAAYYYYY i got this out FUCK writers block and periods and life IS A BITCH and ik i recycle the same stuff but like hey, it works🥱

460 notes · View notes