#okay so the reason I hate dry heat

[bloompompom]

Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...

✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 

If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 

“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 

The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 

The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 

The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 

“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 

You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.

He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”

If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 

Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 

The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 

You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 

It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?

Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.

In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.

“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.

Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 

“That’s you, not me.” 

“Only because of you.”

Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.

“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.

Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”

“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.

She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 

Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 

After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 

But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 

He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 

So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 

“Hey.”

Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”

He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 

You bristled. “What do you want?”

He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”

“No, you can’t.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”

You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.

“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 

“Who said anything about olives?”

It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.

You sidestepped him to leave. 

Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”

Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 

“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”

You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 

“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”

On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.

What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 

Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.

Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 

“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 

“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”

The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.

“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”

As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 

“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.

You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.

You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 

The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 

You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 

After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 

Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.

What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 

Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.

Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.

Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 

Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 

Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 

You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.

You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 

Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?

Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 

It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”

You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”

You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.

“Something like that.”

If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 

Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 

“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”

Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 

You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”

You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 

“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”

He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 

You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 

“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”

He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”

You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”

“Still do,” you muttered. 

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 

No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 

A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”

Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.

You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 

The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 

At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 

“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.

When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 

Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 

Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.

You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 

Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 

When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 

He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.

Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 

He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.

His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 

Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 

Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.

You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 

His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 

“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”

Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.

“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.

“You asked.”

You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 

You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 

You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.

The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 

You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 

Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.

A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 

“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 

Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 

He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 

Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.

Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.

Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.

With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 

You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.

“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.

Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.

You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 

Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 

You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 

More. You needed more.

You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 

You grabbed his wrist. 

“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”

A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 

“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”

You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.

You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”

You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.

He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.

“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 

Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.

But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.

“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.

Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 

He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 

He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.

You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 

You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 

Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.

Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.

You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 

You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 

“I can’t hear you.”

He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 

You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 

“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 

You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.

Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.

Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”

The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 

“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”

The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 

Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”

Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.

“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”

“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 

Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.

His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 

If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.

You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.

Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”

“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.

You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”

There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.

“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 

There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”

“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”

You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”

You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.

as always, thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #aot x reader

[aajjks]

please please PLEASE! (m)

synopsis. He’s a determined man, and he knows a magical word, please.

warnings. ännöyïng köö, hë häs göt thë fättëst crüsh ön yöu, përsuätïön, bêggïng, tsündërë yn, evïl bräïnêd köö, cütê köö, mänïpülätïön, cöcky köö.

He is kinda cringe but yk yolo.

note. HEYYYY I already miss him so.. I wrote this in like 37 minutes.. kinda rough kind of cringe but you know… and based on the interactions and reactions, this will get this may become a little Drabble series. OK OK NOW ENJOY. AND PLEASE SEND ME SOME FEEDBACK OR ASKS THEY MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY.

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE YN!”

When are you ever going to agree?

Do you know that he cannot sleep because of you? Do you know that he’s not even able to eat without feeling sick to his stomach, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.

You are very evil. Jungkook thinks that you are very mean, insensitive! You are evily beautiful, frustratingly sexy and awfully perfect.

He HATES you.

“You evil woman! I hate you!” He’s crying, he’s devastatingly frustrated right now. He has been persuading you for a month. But you still haven’t agreed.

He looks up at you, you look bored. He’s on his knees, his hands resting on your thighs, he’s got tears in his eyes, “JUST ONE DATE!” He chokes out.

He’s looking at you constantly, but it doesn’t have an effect on you, you’re looking at your nails while he’s begging you. “I said no.” You shrug, he scoffs. What is your problem? He’s hot. He earns well. AND HE LIKES YOU A LOT.

So why won’t you give him a chance?

“JUST ONE DATEEE PLEASE.” he sounds really cringe and desperate. He’s a grown man. But he’s on his knees, begging you. “Ynnnnnnn!” Are you enjoying this? he’s sure.

He doesn’t mind entertaining you, but… he really wants you.

“Yn!” He whines, he’s even tired of crying and screaming. His throat feels dry now. He stares at you dumbfounded. You are one stubborn woman.

But he’s also very stubborn, and he knows you very well, your reason to not go on a date with him our date is very ridiculous in his opinion..

He rolls his eyes. You are about to say it.

“No kook. You’re my best friend.”

Of course he’s your best friend, that is the problem.

“BUT I LIKE YOU.” He argues back, biting his lower lip, he doesn’t know how to get you to agree. Even though he knows you very well… he’s not sure.

But one thing is for sure, he won’t stop annoying you until you agree.

You don’t reply, still looking at your manicured nails. They take his attention as well, distracting him. They are a pretty color of brown, with a gray sparkly French tip.

He loves your hands so much.

“FINE.” Jungkook pouts. “because of you, I’m gonna die alone.” of course guilt tripping has to work. You’ll have to agree now.

He has been your best friend for the longest time ever, and he knows that you cannot see him sad. He’s liked you for as long as he can remember.

And you know that very well.

“Yn… you make me very sad.” He turns his eyes away from you. And he feels your gaze shifting to his face. He can feel the heat of your gaze suddenly.

He smirks.

He feels kind of evil, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

“Y-You know I’ve liked you for the longest time! A-AND IT CAN BE KIND OF WEIRD TO DATE YOUR BEST FRIEND, BUT… just one chance.” He speaks in a very low sad tone.

Crossing his hands across his chest. And then he hears you sigh. “You are a very evil man, kook.” His ears perk up, you are definitely about to agree.

His hard work is finally starting to pay off. Maybe begging you for the last couple of weeks… was worth it after all. He’s got a goofy smile on his face, you can’t see it because he’s turned his face away from you.

“Ugh… don’t give me the silent treatment… I can hear your pout.” he is sure you’re rolling your eyes right now. The thing is that you both know each other very very well.

That’s why you are perfect for each other.

Go on… go on go on!!!

“Okay fine. UGH DON’T MAKE ME REGRET IT.” You say, finally giving in.

And at the speed of light, he turns his head, almost breaking his neck. Jungkook is looking at you with wide eyes. His mouth is agape.

Did he hear you right?

“SAY THAT AGAIN!” Standing up, he giggles. Clapping his hands like a toddler. He knows he’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, but a man’s got to celebrate.

“OH MY GOD YN Thank you I promise you won’t regret it and you will want to date me every single lifetime of yours.” He smirks, his changing from desperate to cocky in 00.0 seconds.

He winks at you while you give him the middle finger.

“You are going to want me so bad after this. I WON.” He Throws his hand into the air, doing a dramatic pose.

“Now I’ve gotta go!!! GO TO PREPARE FOR THE DATE. It has to be perfect. Bye bye ynnnnnn!!!! I love you.” He blows you a flying kiss before yeeting out of your home.

You just hope you won’t regret this.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jeongguk smut #bangtan smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jeon jungkook x you #bts fluff #bangtan x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfiction #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

[eumivrse]

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento’s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

#yikes #why am i feeling guilty lolol #mentally preparing myself when it gets animated #might not be accurate to the plot but tbh idc #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #nanami angst #kento nanami #nanami kento angst

[eggyrocks]

hi! #71 (second list) with suna rintarou pls? thank you!

this one i am very very excited abt

500 followers special: #71 “Kiss me, quick!”

suna x gn reader, fake dating trope, parties, drinking, not smut but kinda slutty, suna is slightly possessive/possessive language is used, not proofread

written content masterlist

Suna's nursing a bottle of beer. He's leaned up against the living room wall at a stranger's house and he looks just as bored as he always does. "This is stupid."

They're in the middle of emptying a shot glass down their throat when he speaks, and once they straighten out, throat still burning, they say, voice thick with a slick coating of alcohol, "Well, you already agreed, so no backing out now."

On the opposite side of the room, stands their ex. Tall and handsome and a complete fucking dickhead. Just the sight of them makes their teeth grind together. The sound of their laughter ringing across the room is worse.

Suna notices this. He notices the way the tense up, lip furled up in disgust and frozen into place like a hissing cat. He takes a swig of his beer before he speaks. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to make him jealous if you hate him so much.”

They’re fidgety, smoothing out the front of their jeans with sweaty palms and trying not to look over in their ex’s direction. They give Suna a too-sweet-to-be-real smile. “Because. I don’t want to make him jealous so he wants me again. I want to make his jealous so it hurts his fucking feelings.”

He scoffs, and gives him a half-hearted eye roll, but offers nothing as a rebuttal, except another gulp of his beer as they lean against the wall beside him, closer than they usually would.

They blink up at him. "Is he looking? Can you tell?"

"Nope," he answers easily without having to turn his head. Suna'll know. He's felt those stares on the back of his head plenty of times before while they were dating.

It's obvious to Suna why it has to be him, out of all their friends. Because their shit ex (whose name he can't remember and never bothered to learn) never liked him, never trusted him, caused arguments over him. Their ex was obsessed with him, convinced that Suna wanted what was his.

And so what if he was right.

They groan, bottom lip out in a pout. "He was staring at me nonstop like twenty minutes ago."

"Cause you look good in that outfit," he says. "Probably planning on trying to get you back."

"Fat fuckin' chance," they chuckle.

They want to look over, want to see if he's looking yet, because they know he will be, eventually. Nervous energy has them bouncing on their heels. "Just relax," Suna tells them, leaning in closer, placing his free hand over the curve of their neck. The contact makes goosebumps erupt over their skin. "He's glanced over a couple times," he says, much softer now, "I'll tell you when he's looking."

Suna's close now, much closer than they're used to, intense eyes not leaving their face. The proximity makes their throat feel dry, and the nerves that bundle in their gut multiple.

His touch is light, and, for some reason, it makes their skin burn. His fingers on their neck and the intensity of his stare, for just a fraction of a second, makes them forget exactly what they're here at this stupid party to do.

Suna grins when he says, "He's looking now."

And it snaps them back into reality. "Fuck okay, kiss me, quick!" they command, trying to keep the panic they feel in their chest from leaking into their voice.

They can already feel the heat from Suna's breath fan across their face from how close he is, but when he lets his eyes flutter shut, they are frozen in place, eyes still wide open.

He leans in slowly, not at all rushing like they asked him to. His nose bumps into theirs, lightly knock their head back, giving him easier access to their lips. The lowest part of their gut clenches, and suddenly the noise in the room feels like a distant buzz.

Suna's eyes are still closed. His hand creeps up their neck to spread his fingers out among the roots of their hair. "You want me to?" he asks.

And they're not sure what exactly it is that Suna's asking. But they know that, no matter what the question really means, the answer is yes. They give him a nod in confirmation, not trusting their voice.

He is so agonizingly close it makes every inch of their skin radiate heat. "Not good enough," he whispers, just for them to hear. "Say it out loud for me, so I know you mean it."

They swallow. "I want you to kiss me," they manage without stuttering.

Suna's in no rush. He chuckles, eyes opening up for a second to take in their blown out pupils and slightly parted lips. And it's only after he takes a moment to savor that sight that he tightly grips at the roots of their hair, pulling their head back slightly, and leans in to kiss them.

Suna does not kiss them in a way that's meant to make someone else jealous. He kisses them in a way that's meant to mark his territory. In a way that lets everyone around them now, this person is his, no one else's.

It makes their head dizzy, like they've run out of blood, and now they're too weak in the knees to stand upright on their own, so they have to grip tightly onto the front of Suna's shirt, just so they don't collapse.

And maybe this was part of their ulterior motive, an outcome that they were silently hoping for when they asked Suna for help and begged him just to play along. But they were not expected it to be anything like this.

Suna pulls away, eliciting a small whine from them that makes him smirk. "Do you think it worked?" he asks, hand still tangled in the back of their hair.

They blink up at him, chest heaving and slightly breathless. "Did what work?"

an: hope u enjoy <3333

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro imagine #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #500 follower special

[towriteloveontheirarms]

We were just talking (JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader)

synopsis: JJ and you have seemingly hated each other for years, but what if it all escalates? And what if you get caught?

warnings: fluff, smut, making out, fingering, p in v sex, allusions to dry humping, getting caught, kinda enemies to lovers ig, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

“I dare you to sit in JJ’s lap for the rest of the night.” Kiara slowly speaks out the bet you your dare which is met by an immediate sigh from both you and JJ.

For some reason, JJ had decided to hate you, despite the other pogues loving you. You weren´t only John B´s younger sister, but theirs as well. A sentiment you returned with all the love you had in your heart. One thing about the two of you though, despite all the hate for each other, you weren´t gonna opt out on a dare.

“Oh man! Kie! Come on!” JJ said as you sat in his lap.

Kiara on the other hand only giggled as she sipped on her drink.

"Shut up, JJ. What are you afraid of? That you´ll get hard from me sitting on your lap?" You respond to his protests and sit down in his lap.

JJ looks down at you and glares at you, everyone else watching the two of you banter with knowing eyes as the game continued.

“No, I just… Never mind.” The blond sighs and leans back on the sofa, trying to touch you as little as possible.

"No, please by all means, say what you want to say. You´re with friends after all." You insist, shifting in his lap to get more comfortable, rubbing your ass against his core.

Behind you JJ grits his teeth and breathes in sharply as you do so.

“Okay, I think that´s enough.” He leans back even farther trying to push you off to the side without pushing you to the ground.

“No no no, the dare was the rest of the night.” Your friends remind him.

“Would you at least fucking sit still then?” JJ hisses into your ear.

"Sorry..." Your voice comes out breathier than hoped and is almost accompanied by a small whimper from the feeling of his length between your ass cheeks, that is only warded off by biting your lower lip.

The way he tries to push you away has his hardening length grind perfectly against you, making your heartrate accelerate and face burn ever so slightly. The eyes of the others burn into your body, adding to the very different heat of JJ´s touch as he finally just grabs your hips to keep you still in his lap. And though you usually pride yourself on being able to endure anything, this was not one of those things.

"I´m gonna go inside to get another beer?" You ask, as to not raise suspicion, but that was well too late already. I could tell by the amused glances flying your way as you stand up all but too hastily to be subtle. A murmur of affirmation runs through the small group. And then something that surprises you.

“I’ll come with you.” The blond who had just tried to get rid of your presence in his immediate proximity says.

It´s easier not to disagree with him and so you try to focus on ignoring the whispers of the others as you head inside to grab another sixpack of beer cans. However, you don´t even nearly get the chance to do so.

The door to the porch hasn´t even closed entirely, when one of JJ´s large hands grabs one of your wrists.

"JJ, w-what...?" You ask him just as breathlessly as before, though there is a tingling sensation that makes you crave more spreading from where his hand touches.

JJ pushes you against the wall, he can’t hide his obvious excitement from you as he leans in close to your ear.

“You wanna know why I didn’t want you to sit on my lap?” He whispers, though there is an undertone of uncertainty over the smartness of admitting the truth.

"Why?" Your heart beats higher at the realisation of how close his lips are. You can almost feel them on yours as you answer him in a low whisper.

“I can’t control myself around you.” JJ grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. I can’t think of you as my friend’s little sister.”

There is a pause between the two of you, his confession settling in as you just look up into his stupidly handsome eyes. You feel like drowning in the pools of blue. So focused on the tingling feeling that this now ignites in you, you close your eyes for barely a moment. Yet it is still long enough to be surprised by the first, wet kiss to hit the skin of your neck.

"Jayj..." You gasp, threading a hand into his wild hair, not caring that it knocks the cap he was wearing to the ground in the process, while the other holds onto his biceps.

“Do you like that?” He asks you, his eyes full of lust and excitement.

JJ smiles softly feeling you run your hands through his messy hair and moves his lips across your neck before kissing your collarbone. Then he pulls away slightly looking at you. Every new open-mouthed kiss he the blond had pressed to your flushed skin, had made your brain grow hazier steadily. So, you are left to nod desperately in answer, eagerly you lean up to finally capture his lips in a passionate kiss, for the first time. A sigh falls from your mouth into the affected touch, massaging his scalp with my fingernails. JJ leans his head back and lets out a low groan of enjoyment, willingly letting you pull him further into the house. Once you got him on the nearest mattress, your lips are on each other´s without a second thought. Clawing and pulling at each other’s clothes, lips devouring each other, he slid his tongue into your mouth to explore you further and immediately gets met with your own tongue joining in a passionate dance.

“Oh, god… this is amazing” He runs his hands up your back, the feeling of your skin beneath the soft, shirt driving him crazy.

The kiss and the whimpers it pulls from his lips are instantly addictive. You can barely bring up the strength to part long enough to hum in agreement. You snake your arms around JJ´s neck to keep him close as he shifts his weight to press me further into the mattress.

“Mmm, I think we should get you out of those clothes.” He whispers into your ear as he brushes his hand up your thighs, starting a trail of fire through every nerve in your body.

"Yes. Fuck, yes." Comes your eager agreement. One of your hands already going to the bow in the back of your neck to let the shirt fall half open, exposing your breasts to the blond.

“Oh wow.” JJ breathed, he can’t believe how beautiful you are, he’s so incredibly attracted to you even though he knows he shouldn’t be.

You bite your lip at the way he gazes at you and look up at him through wide, innocent eyes. Fluttering your lashes at him. "You can touch me if you want..." You take one of his hands and coyly place it on your chest. JJ snaps out of his daydreams and chuckles softly as he feels your innocent eyes staring back at him, he knows you can’t possibly be as innocent as you seem. As you take his hand and place it to cup one of your breasts, JJ leans forward and whispers into your ear. “I’ve wanted to do this all night." He rasps as he twirls your nipples between his fingers.

Affected by his ministrations, your head falls back against with your lips slightly parted. It somehow felt so good to know that you were the only thing on his mind all night, after thinking he hated you for years. "I've wanted you for so long now. Dreamed so often about your hands on me, while you called me your good girl." Your breathing grows more unevenly as JJ's hands massage your breasts. “Have you really? God…” JJ's groans. His hands begin to wander all over your body, touching every exposed piece of skin, pulling the shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. The tiny jeans shorts go next, leaving him to paw at your panties while closed his lips around your peaked nipples, suckling at the pebbled bundles of nerves. You run your nails over his shirt, pulling it off his body just like he did to you only moments ago. Just in time to bury your fingernails in his shoulders as JJ slips a finger past the lace fabric into your fluttering walls. JJ chuckles excitedly at your gasping and moaning as he slightly shifts his weight again to grab your hips tightly and add another finger into your wet hole, keeping your quivering legs open with his lean body. However, neither of you have the patience for extended preparation left and so JJ quickly pulls down his pants and sheaths his flushed, leaking length inside of your tight cunt.

“Shit. You feel so good” You whimper, voice straining to stay quiet enough to not give you away. "You're driving me so insane right now. I've wanted to feel you like this for so long now. You have no idea."  He whispers as his left hand squeezes your thighs. The blonde leans down as he begins to thrust into you in a steady rhythm to suck even more marks into the valley between your breasts. “God, you’re amazing.” Your praise is met with a soft moan from JJ as he realized how badly you wanted him too. And as your heels dig into his lower back, he can no longer resist you, he needs you too bad.

Considering the fact that the two of you are still very high the pace his hips take on is impressively fast. Driving both of you not only closer to the edge of pleasure, but also the moans from your lips to grow louder as your mind slips into haziness. "Shhh, you gotta be quiet or the others will hear." JJ shushes you with a trembling voice, clearly struggling to keep quiet as well. But you can't help yourself and so JJ simply clamps a hand over your mouth. You are moments away from climaxing when someone barges into the room without knocking. "Yo J... What the fuck!?" John B yells when he realises what he has caught you doing.

JJ and you jump away from each other and hide under the blanket. Eyeing your admittedly very unamused looking brother with wide eyes and tightly knit eyebrows. “We were just… umm… just talking” JJ says just at the same time as you try to deflect your brother. "This is not what it looks like. I swear." You try to assure John B, clawing your hands tightly into the blanket as he paces back and forth with his hands running through his hair. "I don't even care about what you were doing, but did you have to do it in my bed?!" John B shakes as if a freezing cold shiver runs down his spine.

When you look around, you realise, that you did in fact in all the haste, land in his room. Neither you nor the blond beside you know what to say. "It's getting late, so I'm just gonna do you the favour of walking out of here and when I come back in five minutes, I want to see you decent and asleep on the couch." He runs his hands through the brown tresses one more time and then walks out of the room, with in surrender raised arms. "Yes, John B... Thank you." The two of you mumble in unison as your brother leaves.

That night, sleep does not want to claim you. Forcing you to toss and turn to the sound of Kie's even breaths and Pope’s light snoring. Thoughts circle in your head like a toy train until you finally have enough of the uncertainty. "JJ? Are you sleeping?" You whisper into the semi dark as you crawl over to him. "Not yet. What's bothering you?" His answer comes almost immediately, and he closes his arms around your middle to pull you close. "I... I kinda can't stop thinking about earlier." You sigh when you feel the warmth of his chest against your back. "What about it?" The warm breath fans over the side of your marked up neck. "What you said about not being able to see me as John B's little sister. Did you... Did you mean that just in a physical way or..." Your heart beats so loud it drones in your ear. Keeping you from being able to finish your question.

"Which way would you like it better?" JJ only asks, giving you basically no answer at all. "I think I would like it better if it would be more than a one-time thing. Actually... I know I want this to be more." You confess, voice trembling and so quiet JJ has to concentrate to hear you. An almost imperceptible sigh leaves the blond's lungs at your statement. "I want this to be more too." "Really? Do you mean that?" You turn your head back to look at him through the corner of your eyes. "I really mean it. Will you be my girlfriend?" The wide smile is audible in his voice. "Yes, of course I'll be your girlfriend." You turn your upper body some more until you are finally able to cup his face in your hands, pulling him into a kiss. Brushing your lips against his, excited and a bit uncoordinated from the angle. Neither of you is bothered by it though. On the contrary, after just a moment you feel JJ's hard cock press against your backside again. Parting from him, you look at him unbelieving yet amused. "Are you serious? Now?" You giggle. "Can't help it." JJ tries to breathily defend himself. "Kie and Pope will hear us." You express concern, though your panties begin to stick to your folds at the thought of doing something right there. "Not if you stay quiet, baby." The blond offers a simple solution by clamping a hand over your mouth once more as he begins to rut against you.

#jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x you #outer banks #obx

[kjd55]

strawberry-scented body wash

in which rafe shows up on your doorstep, soaked from the storm outside, and stays over. things get a little heated.

content warnings: finger sucking, making out, rafe being unrafe-like and actually kinda nice?? bad writing?? i haven’t posted on here in over a year so i am rusty lol also this is unedited but enjoy

a knock on the door downstairs has you groaning and pushing away from the desk you’ve been seated at the last few hours, chipping away at the homework you’d been neglecting this week. 

with final exams around the corner and college applications already sent, you were doing your best at fighting the infamous senioritis, albeit not doing a great job.

jumping down the stairs to get to the door as quick as you could, you shouted a “coming!” from your spot halfway down the steps. 

you weren’t expecting anyone over, and when you finally open the door to find a soaking wet rafe cameron standing  on your doormat, rain splattering onto your floor from the unexpected weather, you grabbed his wrist to pull him inside, desperate to keep the floors and more specifically, your socks, as dry as possible.

“what are you doing here?” you ask awkwardly once you’d shut the door. as much as you hate to admit it, you’ve had a crush on your best friends brother for a while. which sounds ridiculous, considering the fact that he loathes you, and your entire existence, for some reason. 

he tucks his bottom lip into his mouth, glancing up at the ceiling, either in embarrassment or annoyance. probably both, and mutters, “my car broke down, and it’s literally pouring outside and uh..” he rubs the side of his face, another indication of his indignation, “well, you’re the only person i know around here and i was wondering if i could like…”

“stay here until the weather gets better?” you sigh, noting the hair matted to his forehead as he nods. “sure,” you reply, watching his shoulders sag in relief, “but only if you change your clothes, because you’re dripping wet.”

you turn around, silently cursing at the way you said those last few words. your cheeks grow hot when rafe snickers, catching onto it too.

not checking to ensure that he’s following you, you make your way back up the stairs, “i have something for you to wear.”

you don’t look at him as you hand him a hoodie and pair of sweatpants from your wardrobe, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are.

from the corner of your vision though, you see his eyebrows flick up. “there are literally my clothes,” he chuckles, and you want to die of embarrassment. you hope he doesn’t notice the fact that’d you’d picked them from the top of the pile. (they’re comfy to sleep in, okay?) “these are from when you threw up on yourself at that one bonfire and sarah made me give you my—“

“yes! yes, i remember, it was mortifying. i think about it too often,” you blurt, finally facing him and crossing your arms over each other, trying to make yourself as small as you feel. “my bathroom is over there,” you point towards a door behind your shoulder, “get dressed, ‘cus you smell.”

he says nothing, settling for rolling his eyes while walking towards the bathroom, and shuts the k door. you ignore how there was a subtle shine when he’d realized you still wore his clothes.

you settle on trying to finish your homework, and while you do, you hear your shower turn on. good, you think, knowing you’ll have more time to focus instead of bickering with him. still , you swallow a lump in your throat at the thought of rafe in your shower, and squeeze your eyes shut. stop being a perv.

after about 15 minutes, a few after the water was turned off, the door cracks open, and you glance over to find rafe make his way to you, wearing the sweats, and of course, no hoodie. you again focus on your work, but you feel as he leans himself over your chair and watch as you complete calculus questions. 

you can’t concentrate, feeling the heat radiate off him, him arms on either side of your preifereal vision, and you groan, “do you mind— hey!” you whip your head over, and glare at the man towering over you, “did you use my body wash?!”

a corner of his lips tilt up, amused, and he shrugs. “so what if i did? also there wasn’t much left, so you’ll probably need to go buy more later.”

you scoff, knowing there was at least enough to last you until the end of the week (it was a monday). smelling the strawberry scent wafting off him, you stand, leaning against the front of your desk to try and close of the large gap in height between the two of you. 

you regret this immediately, because now you have no choice but to make eye contact, and the look he gives you is scathing. your cheeks grow hot at the lazy look he gives you, your faces less than an inch apart. 

you wet your bottom lip, which is suddenly dry, and his eyes flick down, watching almost predatorily as you try to tuck your bottom lip away from his gaze. 

this always seemed to happen with the blond, anytime you were alone together, which was not often (for this exact reason), tension was always a third factor. you’d met him three years ago, when you’d gone to sarah’s for the first time and saw him, instantly growing a bedrudging crush on him.

you remember one night, where you were alone in the kitchen about a year and a half ago, when you’d been hoping to grab a glass of water before bed, and realized rafe was already in there.

he’d been on the other side of the room, and you tried to ignore his presence, with it being late, and not wanting to try to act normal in his vicinity (something that took too much energy out of you), you opened the cabinet with all the glasses. 

embarrassment warned your skin when you’d realized there was nothing within reach, but before you’d have to ask, you’d felt rafe’s presence warm your back. he’d pressed a hand for ‘support’ (you know he was trying to tease you), and reached up to grab one for you. “you need to grow a little taller,” his voice rasped in your ear, sliding that damn hand to your waist, and squeezing a little. 

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until he’d stepped away, you instantly feeling cold, at the loss of warmth, and shakily filled that glass, turning away to go back to sarah’s room.

remembering that time, and the situation you were in now, you grow hot under his stare, and instead decide to grow a pair and examine him. maybe try and make him squirm like he did to you, so easily.

starting with the apples of his cheeks, you noted a very faint littering freckles, only a few, that carried onto his nose. 

unconsciously, you follow the urge to look back up to his eyes. if you were in a sound state of mind, you’d feel nervous. but with the way his eyes were half-lidded, eye lashes drooping so prettily, you couldn’t help but raise a hand to one of those lightly freckled cheeks.

his eyes widen ever so slightly at the unexpected move, and he swallows, shifting his body a bit. you know you’ve leaned closer to him, your noses only inches apart, but you wait to see what he’ll do. 

you can’t help the feeling deep down that he’ll reject you. maybe you’re just another girl in his endless supply. you suppress that rational part of your brain, the one that’s been leading your thought process for too long. it’s not like you’ve ever seen a girl around him, not even at parties. if they’d ever tried talking to him, he’d shrug them off.

you feel his scorching touch where he grabs hold of your waist, pulling you a little closer, and a gust of air escapes you when you feel a thumb caress the underside of your ribs.

you stand there for a few seconds, really looking at each other. no one’s said anything for a while, but you don’t care. you don’t think anything rational would come out of your mouth anyway.

one of his hands creeps up, along your arm, up your neck, and holds your cheek now, too. he traces the shape of your bottom lip, and by accident, a noise meekly escapes your throat at the touch. his pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible, and he taps your lip with his thumb.

you realize there’s only one thing you could do right now, and hesitantly open your mouth. he slides that thumb in, and when you close your lips around it, he groans, watching your half lidded eyes as you begin to suck.

after a minute, he removed his thumb, and you don’t even have time to react before he’s smashing his lips against yours.

it isn’t a gentle kiss, by any means. it’s harsh, unforgiving, and so rafe. he takes control of every movement, and your grateful because you can barely function, so turned on by the entirety of what is happening right now.

your arms wrap around his neck, an attempt to deepen the kiss, if that were even possible, and you feel his tongue lightly trace your lip. you moan, into his mouth, and his hold on you tightens.

you feel so good right now, so wrapped in his presence. even though he just used your body wash, you can still smell him, that unmistakable scent overpowering the artificial strawberries.

he finally breaks away, lips puffy and wet, and watches you gasp for air. he smirks, satisfied with himself, and at the fact that he’s done the thing he’s been wanting do to for three years, and hopes that you’ll let him do it again.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx 3 #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #outerbanks x you #outer banks fanfiction #confession

[creatingblackcharacters]

🌹Ice's Lazy Loc Wash Routine🌹

I wanna preface this with two very important things:

I do not retwist my own locs! It would take far longer if I did. I have the tools and the means, and I know how to do it. I just hate doing it 🤣. It takes patience and arm strength and I lack the will. When I have the money I just schedule a retwist. Usually about every three months (which is longer than usual)

This is the way EYE do it! This is one experience out of countless, so don't assume my way is THEE way. There are people that will probably scream at me through the screen. But alas... It is "lazy" Loc wash day for a reason. And I do still care for my hair, and it's healthy and thriving for seven years (as of this Wednesday) 👍🏾

Okay? Okay.

Washing

The misconception about locs is that they are dirty. They're no "dirtier" than any other type of hair, nor do they require dirt to lock. That's a lie, and a racist one at that.

That being said, locs will end up holding the weight of life lol. Skin, sweat, dust, pollen, smells (and for me, bc I have dermatitis, scabs); all those things will end up weighing your locs down. Some people will do an Apple Cider Vinegar and Baking Soda wash to detox their locs.

However, I use this!

Essentially it's water, apple cider vinegar, orange peel, and some essential oils in a spray bottle, so I can spray it directly on my scalp and locs and massage it in deeply. Let it sit for a bit. Because I only wash my hair every 2 weeks or so, it's fine, but I wouldn't do this if I was washing it more frequently as it could mess up my scalp pH. Again, I have painful dermatitis, so it helps me get closer to my problem spots. Does it burn? Yes. It's working 👍🏾

Then I use this soap bar, which has things like coconut oil, aloe vera, eucalyptus, tea tree, almond, lemongrass, and more in it to scrub my scalp. You're supposed to rub it into your hands and scrub it in, so naturally I put the bar directly on my scalp. Be better than me. Smells AMAZING though and leaves my scalp clearer than it has ever been.

Medicated Shampoo

I use a medicated shampoo last. While that sits, I bathe 👍🏾 Bathe well, too 👍🏾 Please make sure your characters are bathing when they wash their hair 👍🏾

Once I'm done, I gently pull my locs apart (they WILL start tangling at the root IMMEDIATELY), then I wrap my hair in a beach towel. You're supposed to use t shirts because they're softer on curls, but I don't like water dripping on me while I get dressed. I put on easy to wear clothing. Tits loose clothing. I gotta be comfortable.

Medication

So if you know me, this is something I complain about ALL THE TIME. And it's how dermatology does NOT cater to Black patients! Even my shampoo says "for 30 days, wash every night". I'm Black with locs. My shampoos last for months bc that is impossible without me sacrificing my entire night, every night. Even if I had an Afro, we're still not supposed to wash our hair every night for fear of stripping the natural oils.

So I have to DEMAND I be given a medicated liquid solution. No petroleum based products!! A solution is the easiest way to reach my scalp. Does it burn? Yes. It's working. 👍🏾

So if your character has a skin issue (dermatitis, psoriasis, exzema excema eczema) on the scalp... Solutions are the easy way to go.

Moisturizing

I promise this isn't free ads lmao, I just happen to be experimenting with this company and I like what I've seen so far. This is a real lite oil spray with rose water and essential oils, and it cools my scalp.

Aloe Vera, the goddess of healing. Also cools my scalp and addresses those burning, pink spots from my dermatitis.

Drying

Drying depends on the length and thickness of your locs, and the temperature. Mine are shoulder length, pencil thick. Today I dried at real high heat (unintentionally) and it only took about an hour. At a lesser, safer heat, about two. This hair dryer bag is LIFE fr.

Conclusion

If I don't have anywhere else to go (and I don't, bc I plan my loc wash days like this) I spray my scalp with oil one more time, put on my loc sock, and then I'm done 👍🏾

Total time today: about two hours. Normally 3 at a lower dry temp. Not bad at all.

#creatingblackcharacters #black hair

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could we have octoville reaction to octo merchild misbehaving like attempting to beat them up , trying to escape, thrashing in their arms , and even biting , and even cussing them out and giving the middle finger

Yandere Octorio x Octo Mer Child reader

Children get fussy that’s just a known fact. Even the cruelest and most coldhearted know that children are slaves to their unhinged emotions which can be kicked off by the absence of a nap, not being given their dinosaur nuggies, or not getting to play longer. But only the best guardians know how to handle these kinds of behavior at the very least eliminate the ones that cause it:

Azul Ashengrotto 

More than anyone Azul has the greatest authority over you so he claims

You are the mini to his mega octopus status

So when he says your going back to your tank 

Your going back to your tank

“Nooooo!”

“Let him go, (Y/n). It’s time to go!”

“Noooooo!”

He didn’t mind that you were getting cozy in Scarabia 

It meant getting to keep an eye on Jamil

Kalim was perfect for keeping up with your energy 

But Azul notices how your skin gets dry or how sluggish you are returning 

You’re not just tired…you’re drying out 

On a deeper level, Jade’s discovered that your hybrid status has you needing things a mini octopus needs

You have an extremely thin phlegm that keeps you from drying out

And drinking water is part of it 

But with heat like Scarabia’s its best if you spend at least two hours in some actual water 

Letting the water give you oxygen through your skin

But for whatever reason, you don’t want to do that

Annoyed with how much time is taken away with putting on and taking off the bathing suit 

And the way Jamil demands you sit on the scratchy towels so you don’t make everywhere wet

“Nooooooo! Rgh! Noooo!”

With Kalim’s push, you’ll leave Scarabia 

But when you return to Octavinelle Azul gives you some guidelines about going 

And when you refuse he thinks aloud about not letting you go at all

he's mostly joking maybe not

And that sets you off

In the middle of the Monstro lounge your flailing, crying causing a huge scene

And like a struggling single mom that’s just trying to wrangle her kid, He’s straining as he pulls you into his office

Away from the invasive stares and curious looks of patrons

When he’s in there he pushes you in your mini tank clipping on the hole-filled top 

Which doesn’t move at all despite your little tentacles pulling and banging on the glass

He’ll start working on contracts, counting bills, studying all while ignoring your little tantrum

He waits until it stops, sleeping in your little hidey-hole

Then He cries 

Reduced to his baby octopus days he tries to remind himself that his baby just doesn’t want to listen

Not that you really hate him for stopping you from hanging out with someone more fun than him

All the parenting books couldn’t prepare him for this 

But when you awake still willing to wrap your little tentacles around his fingers he gains confidence again

“(Y/n)...how about we make a little contract, okay? Just something promising me you’ll always come back, okay?”

“Mmmm okay.”

Jade Leech

“(Y/n) did you hear me? I said you can’t eat these. (Y/n)? Look at me, do you understand?”

You were being a little toad

Pouting and turning away after Jade didn’t let you eat one of the mushrooms he was dissecting

Some may say that previously working on edible mushrooms and giving one to you every other time may have conditioned you to expect it but whatever

You’ve squatted down low and plopped on the cold floor of his club room

Refusing to look at him with your little noises of refusal

He doesn’t mind being ignored…he knows you’ll forget anyway

But what he does have a problem with is when he turns away you’re reaching your tubby hand into his work station

He snatches your little hand using this closeness to grill it into you to listen

“(Y/n). Look at me.”

“Mmmm!”

“(Y/n).”

“Mmm!” 

“Fine, then you're going to your tank.”

“Noooooo!”

“Yes.”

He’s dragging you or rather carrying you to your tank 

And as he shut whoever’s door to put you away he hears something mumbled under your breath that sets him off

“-old fish. S-upid klunt!” 

“...What did you just say?”

He turns his head like those dolls in horror movies

He gets that you were trying to say something else and he will hunt down who you got that from later but for now he’s bringing the hammer down

No one knows what happens when you're being particularly naughty

The best equivalent for what happens is that he commits to emotionally spanking you

a single look portrays that you're in for it

Talking you down until your begging for forgiveness while you nuzzle against his pant leg

He becomes that parent that you know to behave around

And its Azul who uses the most

“I’m going to tell Jade when he gets home!”

“No no! I sorry! No, please don’t tell!”

But in the end Jade is always willing to forgive you

Always willing to genuinely smile as you tearfully apologize before even being reprimanded

“Aww that’s my good octopus, I’m not angry no no no…I was just disappointed…but you did so well to apologize, good job.”

Floyd Leech

“Eh?! Octobaby hasn’t had their nap yet? Ohhh so that’s why you're so snippy!”

He’s down to play with you but he knows it’s a nightmare when your hungry or tired

He knows right now you need a nap

Even if he has to force you to take one

Now Jade says he can’t strangle you to sleep because you're just too fragile

So he just has to lock you in your tank, play your music, and make sure no one interrupts

That’s who he’s allowed to strangle

Even when you’re biting and thrashing in his hold 

To be honest he hardly notices 

Until your little pincers actually prick him some

“Did you just…bite me…?”

“...n-no..”

“Yes, you did.”

“I-i sorry. I sorry!” 

His silence speaks loudest

He’s angry

It just won’t be at you

He’s oddly nurturing putting you to sleep 

Then he’s raging at everyone who gets in his way 

“Who. The. Heck. Made them miss their nap?!”

He’s not letting anyone hurt you let alone ruin your schedule

There is a schedule for how they take care of you

He actually is really vigilant about it

So he is livid when others come and mess with that

“Octobaby bit me today…”

“Oh did you reprimand them?”

“Nope did it themselves! Besides it was the cutest little prick, if they weren’t acting out I’d want them to do it again!”

#platonic yandere octorio #yandere octorio #yandere platonic #yandere platonic twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade #yandere tweels #yandere platonic tweels #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x child reader #yanderes x child reader

[strawurberries]

Oh my god! Berry I had an idea and I had to come running to you with it cause I thought you'd enjoy it too (and cause your writings awesome) but,

A Soulmate AU where you can hear the other person's thoughts?

With Vash, Wolfwood and nai please! (Separate obviously cause I honestly think having all three as soulmates would just be too much xD)

Whether headcannons or a little scenario thingy I leave up to you 😁

Hope you have an awesome day! - 🍰anon

Soulmate Head cannons

Summary: Head cannons with little drabbles about Soulmates <3

Authors Note: I'm sorry this took so long! Finals are finally over so I can focus on writing :) I hope you all enjoy!! Also I wouldn't mind having all three as soul mates. . . but ya know 😂

Warnings: Self-hate, mild sexual themes, angst, cursing, mentions of religion and murder.

Vash didn’t know what an ocean looked like—deep, painfully blue, and so cooling yet full of dangers unimaginable—but he assumed it had to be something similar to the sight before him: sand dunes rose and fell like the chest of some great giant, tumbling across the horizon without thought or remorse. Compared to the vastness of sand before him, he was nothing but a speck of dust—smaller than the grains of sand that covered this desolate, prison-like planet. Part of him was comforted by that fact, knowing that in the grand scheme of things he would be nothing but a passing memory—no one out there to judge him, hurt him, or even see him. Yet he also hated the loneliness of it all. Looking out and seeing no life but himself, it only served to remind him what he was. 

Vash the Stampede:

“Shit!”

He paused, feet sinking into the dry sand below. A semi-cool wind hit the back of his neck. “Hello?” his voice echoed out into the world around—hello. . . hello. . . . . hello. Nothing responded and he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. He must really be losing it now. He had suffered from heat stroke before, had experienced delusions, and been near deaths’ door due to the pounding suns above, so, unfortunately, he knew what might be happening.

He stood still for a moment, longer. . . nothing. Okay, perhaps this was a one time delusion and he’ll be fine.

“How the hell am I going to get out of this alive?!”

He whirled around, looking for any sign of life—the person of whom the disembodied voice belonged to. After a moment he confirmed his suspicions. There was no one around. He groaned and covered his face, thinking to himself: “the heat must be getting to me. . .”

“What?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he yelled out into the vastness of the desert. No one responded. “What the hell?”

“Great! I’m getting shot at and I’m hallucinating!”

“What is happening right now?!”

“You tell me! You’re the voice in my head!”

“No, you’re the one in my head!”

The first time you two met—and by that, I mean: the first time you two heard each other—was a mess. You were busy running for your life, and he was wandering through the emptiness of a sandy sea. Both of you, due to different reasons, thought you were going insane. You thought the adrenaline of the situation finally made you snap, and that this run-in with danger took the last bit of your sanity. Vash, on the other hand, swore the heat was out to kill him again and he ignored you for the most part—no use in talking to a delusion. It was only after you both reached safety and had a night's rest, that you both came to realize this was something more than hallucinations.

“Uh. . . so. . . are you real?” Vash thought to himself as he washed his face in the sink, the morning sun starting to make the hotel room feel like an oven.

“Of course I am! . . . are you?”

From then on you two talked a lot, and bonded immensely considering the other’s deepest, darkest and most intimate parts are on display. 

Vash tried desperately to keep the fact that he’s a plant and an outlaw a secret, but simply thinking about how he wanted to not think about it, made him think about it. And, therefore, you heard it all within the first five minutes of knowing him.

“You’re Vash the Stampede! The humanoid typhoon?!”

“Uh. . . no?” He thought about how stupid of a lie that is.

“I can hear your thoughts, Vash! You can’t lie!”

“Aw man I forgot!”

Really, Vash was terrified at first. Having someone able to hear his thoughts? It meant his act, his silly persona, was useless. He was laid bare in front of a person he didn’t know, had never seen, and wasn’t even sure if they were 100% real. No matter what lie he constructed, the truth would be sitting somewhere in his thoughts; easy to access, and even easier to talk about considering there was no way to ignore each other.

“Vash?”

He didn’t want to talk today. A mother had been killed, he had been shot in the shoulder, and ran out of town faster than he had ever known was possible. Sitting by himself in a crude rock formation, miles from any town with the moons shining down on him with pity. He wanted to be alone—to wallow, and think, and cry, and grieve for what was lost and what could never be.

“Vash, I know you're throwing a pity party right now.”

He wiped some tears from his eyes, watching the stars. 

“Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash—come on! I know you're hurting, but it wasn’t your fault. Nothing is. The whole space ship thing? Not your fault. Your brother? He’s his own person, you can’t control his actions—his decisions aren’t on you. The deaths? Inevitable, Vash. Everyone dies someday.”

“But they died because I was there!” He hated showing this side—the pain, the anger, the grief. He didn’t deserve to feel this way. His life, the wandering and suffering, was his punishment for failing to save the people he loved. He didn’t deserve comfort.

“When I finally meet you, I’m going to slap you upside the head before giving you the biggest hug you’ve ever felt.”

He blinked. “Eh?”.

After the rocky start, the weird emotional trauma bonding, and the insecurities—Vash fell hard. Having someone who could peer into his very soul? It, despite feeling so terrifying at first, made him feel so understood and. . . safe. This person has seen the very worst of him, the bottom of the barrel, and yet they chose to keep on talking to him. And, of course, normally Vash would take those emotions to the grave. He doesn’t deserve love. Whoever loves him, whoever he loves, will end up dead. But those thoughts, quite literally, are destroyed the moment they are given tangible sound. 

“I love you too, so I need you to stop thinking that I shouldn’t. Even if you keep running away—” despite the fact that he so desperately wants to meet you he’s terrified you’ll get hurt, and runs away the moment you're in a hundred mile vicinity—“I’ll still love you. And one day I’ll find you Vash. I promise that.”

He sobbed for about an hour straight after that.

He really does want to meet you, it’s the truth, but he needs to confront his fears before he can enjoy your love without guilt. 

Wolfwood:

Wolfwood couldn’t fall asleep. The lull of the bus hadn’t hit him yet, the rocking and groaning metal not a lullaby but a shrieking reminder of how far away from civilization he is. Usually he’d be passed out by now, cigarette limply hanging between his lips, but he had opted to twiddle with it between his fingers. The smoke curled around his palm, lazily rising up into the musty air of the bus. No matter how long he closed his eyes for, how many sheep he counted, or how he positioned himself, he couldn’t reach the comforting arms of sleep. Eventually he gave up, annoyed that everyone else on the bus—excluding the driver himself, thank god—had managed to peacefully drift away into their dreams.

“I’m tired. . .”

He blinked and chuckled quietly, “you and me sister.” He turned away from the window, taking a small drag of his cigarette as he turned to see who had spoken. A lady across the aisle looked at him, tilting her head. He gave a small wave and she turned away quickly. 

“Rude,” he thought for a moment before sighing. Maybe he should try to go to sleep again.

“Hello?”

He blinked and looked around. Surely someone must be sleep-talking. Right? “Wish I could be sleeping,” he looked around once more, eyes lingering on the lady across the aisle who was now starting to doze off. “This sucks.”

“Okay, I’m hallucinating now. God damn it. I knew that I shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich.”

He turned around, looking behind him, and then back to the front where the bus driver was humming a song to himself. “What. . .?” Pure confusion was all he felt. Earlier he had spent several hours in the sun, but the heat couldn’t have gotten to him this bad. . . right? Right?

“Oh God, please make this food poisoning death quick. I’m not into pain.”

Sleep deprivation must really be getting to him. This is going to be a long ride.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. 

Part of Wolfwood thought for a moment he might be getting possessed—he tossed that idea aside quickly but he did consider it for a moment before shaking his head. The other option, he thought, would have to be that the stress of trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon finally caught up to him, and he’s in the middle of a psychotic break. But he remembered hearing that you can’t be aware that you’re in psychosis so. . . where does that leave him?

“Has God really forsaken me this time?” he grumbled, stumbling off the bus and waiting for someone to toss the Punisher down to him.

“I hope not!” came the voice again, “I already have bad luck. If god hates me then I’m really a goner.”

Both of you came to the conclusion fairly quickly that there was no demon or god involved, nor were either of you dying or having a breakdown. Wolfwood, unlike Vash, accepted the situation a lot faster. He was confused and apprehensive at first, after all, no one likes showcases their true, intimate selfs—but he got over it fairly quickly. If this was what fate had given him, he would accept it. After all, it didn’t seem to be too horrible. What’s the matter with appreciating the good things in life?

When he gets bored he’d just stare off into space and annoy you—doesn’t matter what you're doing, or what he’s supposed to be doing. He’ll call your name over and over and over, or start preaching until you tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, he will start talking about the dirtiest, strangest things you’ve ever heard of until your interest is piqued or until he can hear a reaction from you. Either way, no matter what method he chooses, you’ll eventually be talking to him.

“Here’s another quote, ‘Give your burdens to the lord. And he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22’. You know, personally, I’ve always thought that bible verse—”

“Please shut up. I will literally kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Doll.”

His favorite pastime is annoying you, making you flustered, or straight up saying the most out of pocket shit you can ever imagine. And, the funny thing is, you always know what he’s trying to do yet he still manages to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if he spends several minutes brainstorming before saying what he wants, and it doesn’t matter if you try and prepare yourself, he is a master at being a cocky, loveable bastard.

He does hate when you manage to get him to talk deeper about himself, when you bring in the comfort and philosophical talk. Deep down he knows this life isn’t something he wants to partake in, he doesn’t want to go down the path that has been chosen for him, but what other option does he have? 

“You don’t have to kill.”

“How am I supposed to survive if I don’t? This world is built on blood, and one person trying to make it better isn’t going to do shit.”

“Well, I actually think it’s two people trying to make it better. Can’t say I’ve ever killed anyone.”

He was slightly salty when he got that response. 

He didn’t fall first here, but he most certainly fell harder. His heart is a little petrified, and he often lets people in, but only deep enough to where they feel accepted yet can’t glance at anything too important. It’s like if he invited you over to his home, showed you the kitchen and living room, but kept every other door locked and closed. Yet you had the key and essentially broke every lock in one go. He still doesn’t know if he hates or loves it.

He also desperately wants to meet you but, like Vash, he’s terrified you’d get hurt. But his love and desire outweigh his nervousness and, besides, he’ll protect you with everything he has. If he must die for you, so be it. So, the moment he is sure of himself he asks where you are. And, of course, you knew this was coming, and he knew you knew, and you knew he knew you knew. Make sense?

“Do you want to meet in person?” he thought about how much he wanted to see them, feel them, hear them with his ears not with. . . his mind? He wasn’t really sure how this whole thing worked.

“Of course! How could I deny you when you’re practically begging?!”

“Begging? You haven’t seen me beg yet. . . and now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you beg either. That must be a pretty sight, huh?”

Bastard. He’s a bastard.

Million Knives:

Knives were pissed. No matter how loud he played the piano, or how many plants he surrounded himself with, he could not get that annoying little song out of his head. A solemn, lonesome hum that echoed through his mind like nothing he had ever heard—and it infuriated him beyond anything he had ever known. At first he had assumed it was the sound of the pipes, the mechanical building breathing with man-made life, but once he found himself in the desert, alone, he knew that wasn’t the case. It crossed his mind for a moment, a moment, that he might be having some mental issues but he quickly tossed that idea out the window. He could never have any problems like that, never. 

He brushed his fingers along the piano keys, thinking of problems past and future, thinking of what is to come and how he should deal with it all. His own thoughts, he noticed, almost drowned out the humming; that was, until, a voice blew through his troubled mind. 

“Woah, you’re a plant?”

He whirled around, ready to mame and kill whoever had managed to infiltrate his base. . . but no one was there. “Come on out now!” he seethed, “and I’ll make your death painless.”

No response but the clacking of gears and the hiss of steam.

“Audacious human,” he spit out in his mind, already thinking of different ways to kill whoever dared to address him. He began to stalk the room, eyes snapping from one corner to the next. “They can’t hide long. I’ll find them.”

“Why are you so violent? Geez. . . well, I mean I guess it makes sense but don’t you get tired of being angry all the time?” The voice trailed off and began humming that infuriating tune. A vague thought that wasn’t his came to the forefront of his mind, wondering if it was worth eating the stale bread or if he should—wait no, not him because this isn’t his thoughts—they should wait until they get paid tomorrow to eat.

He ignored the mundane thoughts and confronted the voice in his head, “you’re the one who’s been singing that idiotic song?!”

“Wow, you’re rude too. Who would’ve guessed?”

The conversation devolved very quickly after that.

To be honest, you’d be found very, very quickly. Unlike Vash, Knives won’t avoid you; and unlike Wolfwood, he won’t wait until the time is right—he’ll rush off into the desert and hunt you down in less than a week. Finding a stranger is surprisingly easy when you have infinite access to their thoughts. At first he was angry and only wanted to find you so he could cut your head off, but soon—despite his hatred for admitting this—he found you interesting.

“I’m coming to kill you, and you’re not worried at all?”

“I’ll die someday, and besides, I think I’m starting to charm you.”

“I will rip you apart.”

“Sounds sexy.”

You infuriate him on so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start. 

Actually, he does know where to start. You peer into his mind and learn everything about him and oh my god that pisses him off because now a human—a mere human!—knows everything about him: his trauma, his fears, his past, his brother. And he has now way to stop you from learning about him. Out of pure spite, though, he tries his best to learn nothing about you. . . but that plan fails quickly.

“I’m going to kill myself!” you cry out in your mind, rage edging at the tone of your words.

“Please don’t, it’ll take the joy out of me torturing you.” 

“I’m already being tortured! My boss sucks! Ugh! I’m going to kill him!”

He has a tiny, second-long urge to say he’ll kill the man for you before he literally gags with disgust. He had never been so glad someone was distracted because if you had focused on his intentions in that moment you would have teased him until he showed up on your doorstep and killed you. 

Over the course of the couple days he spent tracking you, he unwillingly came to be invested in your life and found a small amount of joy when he debated with you. 

“Humanity sucks, yes, but we can be good!”

“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. What matters is what you’ve done, and what you’re doing. Your potential means nothing when compared to the damage you’ve done.”

“. . . damn it why are you smart. Also, I didn’t do anything! I was just born!”

“That’s a sin in itself.”

“Okay, well, gotta call you out on that one. Being born is not a sin, also, what are you? A preacher? Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t use his name in vain.”

“What?”

After he gets over his initial repulsion and hatred he finds the look into human life interesting. You’re pitiful, weak, and disgusting yet you still push on. Why? Why? Why?

“Why not?’

“It’s useless.”

“So?”

“So. . .?”

“I got you, the great Knives, tongue tied? Wow, I can die happily now.”

Overall, it takes a while for him to fall for you. At first it’s purely rage, and then it’s curiosity, and then. . . maybe he’d call it interest. He wouldn’t fall first and he wouldn't fall that hard, but he’d still appreciate you in some capacity. 

#vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #vash #trigun vash #vash x reader #vash stampede #wolfwood #Vash x reader #Vash the stampede x reader #trigun headcanons #vash x you #vash the stampede x you #Vash x y/n #Wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x you #wolfwood x y/n #Knives x reader #knives x you #knives x y/n #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #nicholas d woolfwood x you #nicholas d wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #million knives #million knives x reader #million knives x you #million knives x y/n

[juyeonszn]

POISON IN MY MIND

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.54k

GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise

SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?

MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.

Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.

Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.

You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.

It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.

You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.

Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.

He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.

You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.

“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”

You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.

“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.

“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.

You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“

Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.

“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.

Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.

“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.

“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”

This was horrible.

You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.

When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.

There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.

To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.

You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.

All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.

Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.

“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.

The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?

The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.

“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.

“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”

Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.

Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.

“Mr. Lee!”

You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.

“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.

You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.

The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.

You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.

[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.

[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in

Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.

Reluctantly, you give in.

[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there

You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.

Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”

“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.

“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.

“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”

“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…

“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.

“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”

“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.

He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”

“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”

Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”

You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.

“W-What are you talking about?”

Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”

“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.

“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”

You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”

And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)

In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.

“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”

You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.

So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.

He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.

He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.

Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?

The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.

He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.

You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”

Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.

“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.

“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.

He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.

Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.

When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”

You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.

His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.

Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.

You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.

Okay, now let’s resume.

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.

“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”

Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.

You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?

“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”

He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.

You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.

Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

[dean-a-mean-tae]

We Can't Make It On Our Own | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

After a rough day, a moment with the youngest of Stray Kids helps Nicholas come to an understanding. | Little bit of Jeongin x Nicholas

(@cafekitsune made the dividers) | Nicholas Ross Master List

What's the saying? Walking on eggshells? Or thin ice? You're nervous, you're scared, and you have to be cautious of your actions. One wrong move, and you plummet into ice-cold water.

Growing up on thin ice makes children cautious and forces them to mask themselves, to mold themselves to what their parents want. Other adults believe they've raised well-behaved kids. When the children are out in the world, they don't know what to do with so much freedom.

There's no one looming over them, no threat of being hit or yelled at for spoilt milk. They can't find their place, emotionally or mentally.

Yesterday, Nicholas had another episode that left him in much worse shape than usual.

The day started fine. He got out of bed with only a slight twinge in his knees. He went through his routine, ate a bacon sandwich, and went to practice.

It was right after they finished that the first pain hit in the back of his right knee. He grabbed the shoulder of the nearest member, who happened to be Seungmin, and sighed.

"You okay?" The younger grabbed his arm, guiding Nicholas to a nearby couch so he could sit next to Minho.

"I'll be okay."

And he would be, just not for a while. The pain had gotten worse. It hurt his right leg and back. Nicholas looked at Minho out of the corner of his eye and watched as Minho nodded before leaving to get Chan.

After a moment, Nicholas was in his room, surrounded by his members. Jeongin and Seungmin lay on either side of Nick while Hyunjin lay behind him against the headboard. Chan was looking for his heating plushie in his closet.

Minho cooked something light for Nick's stomach while Felix made him tea. Changbin and Jisung were in the laundry room drying Nick's blankets.

The next day, the others wouldn't let Nicholas up. He was on bed rest until they decided he was fit to move. They were kind enough to bring him his laptop and Nintendo Switch.

This morning, they let Minho and Jeongin stay with him. They ate breakfast with him before Minho went to wash the dishes and clean the little mess from their last living room sleepover.

Jeongin was told to stay with Nicholas.

"Make sure Nick doesn't try to get up," Minho said, staring pointedly at the maknae before walking out of the room.

"I hate when you guys talk like I'm not here."

Jeongin lay on Nick's shoulder, the older's arm wrapped around him, watching a movie. He looked up at Nick with a sigh.

"I don't think they mean to do it. I know I don't," Jeongin assured, leaning on his side propped over Nick.

"What if I went back to my grandparents?" Nick whispered, staring at the ceiling. "Like, if I left Stray Kids and went to America?"

"We'd try to talk you out of it," Jeongin said, voice just as quiet as the other. He leaned over, his hand propping him over Nicholas so he wouldn't crush him.

"Chan hyung chose you for a reason. You're talented, and we love you." Jeongin tilted his head in thought, his vision blurry as he started to ramble.

"We all bring something to the table. Chan looks out for us, Minho makes sure we're fed and takes care of us, Changbin keeps us energized, Hyunjin helps us use our voices, Felix shows us it's okay to be happy, and Seungmin balances him out by telling us it's okay to be sad. While I keep everyone on their toes."

"What do I bring?" Nick asked.

Jeongin stared down at him, eyes bouncing around Nick's face in thought. For a moment, there was silence. The movie had paused when the 'Still watching?' queue popped up. Minho had shifted further in the dorm, so they only heard their breathing.

"Peace." The younger whispered.

For some reason, Nick understood. Maybe it was the emotion in Jeongin's eyes, or perhaps it was the memories of different members coming to him for comfort. Maybe it was the fact that they took care of him with a smile, even when his conditions set them back. But he understood, and that's what mattered.

Nicholas brought the group peace and a space for them to feel safe.

Nicholas Ross Master List

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: …

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #skz x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x male reader #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz x 9th member #stray kids fluff #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x male reader #jeongin

[the-illiterate-pirate]

La Squadra NSFW headcanons because I'm feral ♡

Cut for length (and content ofc)

Risotto

- Literally one of the most vanilla guys you'll meet in the Mafia. Don't get me wrong my man has his kinks but he's pretty bare bones

- Contrary to popular belief he's not a big fan of blood play and doesn't like to mix work with intimate affairs. He does have a bit of an oral fixation (giving and receiving) and really likes saliva though

- His member is pretty average sized actually. I mean compared to this mountain of a man it may look a bit small but trust me, he knows how to use it

- Does in fact have a cock piercing. It's a magic cross, have fun looking that up. Apparently it helps stimulate too

- His favorite position is cowgirl

Prosciutto

- Sleeps around a lot tbh but really wants to settle down with a special someone after leaving the gang

- Honestly I would not trust him with aftercare he thinks it's lighting a cigarette with a glass of (insert liquor because idk wtf Italians drink)

- Super lazy but can be a really good brat tamer if you push him

- Doesn't have a daddy kink but loves being called "Sir" and likes a power imbalance

- Will smack that ass and it will hurt

- Will fall asleep after finishing his glass but will at least offer to cuddle

Pesci

- Dreams of becoming the perfect man in bed. But I mean he's already got 5/5 stars with aftercare so he's halfway there. Like he can be buck naked and shaking but he'll still ask you if you're okay and try to comfort you afterwards

- Has the BIGGEST dick in the group I won't take criticism or notes my man is PACKING HEAT he just doesn't know how to use it (yet) take caution

- Low-key a masochist and likes to be bossed around but can be a little fragile, please be good and make sure to check up on him uwu. If things get too heavy he might try to force himself to do something to the point he ruins the experience for himself :( communication is key with him

- On a lighter note he VERY MUCH enjoys queening/kinging and will gladly let you sit on his face

- PRAISE HIM PLEASE HE'S A GOOD BOY TRYING HIS BEST AND HE NEEDS TO KNOW IT

Formaggio

- Okay yes he likes pet play are you happy. Luckily he's a major bisexual switch so it can go both ways. He likes being your good puppy <3

- STOP GIVING RISOTTO THE SIZE KINK WHEN IT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO THIS KING HIMSELF. He WILL use his Stand on you when you least expect it because he's an ass this is your warning

- Like stated before big switch energy, is a nasty dom when he wants to be but will only bottom if you soft dom him because he does not believe in equality

- He FALLS ASLEEP IMMEDIATELY afterwards and he SNORES because he HATES HIS S/O /j

- Also really loves oral and giving sloppy head. Mf DROOLS EVERYWHERE

Illuso

- Likes to act like a bad bitch but loves when he gets pampered like he will melt if you play with his hair

- Another switch (like most of the JoJo cast but whatever) but it's easier for him to bottom because he's lazy.

- LOVES receiving overstimulation for some reason like suck this man dry until he cries he'll be living it up. Safe words exist for a reason and he use it to his (dis)advantage

- VOICE KINK !! All types of noises from you can get him off. With good ole' Lulu it's important to be vocal, tell him how you feel, make noise, dirty talk, the whole nine yards

- Has a little issue with self worth so like praise this baby, worship this baby, he'll be in heaven

- Shockingly? Pretty good with aftercare

Ghiaccio

- Oh my god it's so easy for him to get overwhelmed and he HATES IT I'm begging for your sake treat him gently

- Easy to fluster because he's pretty new to relationship stuff and he'll need you to show him the ropes. You could very well be one of his first, sex is very intimate for him and he'd like to stick with one person

- Low-key bites

- Due to Stand reasons his limbs are very cold, he will use this against you

- I said Risotto was vanilla but man Ghia might take the cake, he's a bit of a stiff when it comes to the bedroom, but that isn't always bad. He likes good old missionary and making sure he takes care of you, but if he's overly stressed he'll give you the reigns for the night

- If all goes well, and he isn't overstimulated, sex actually really helps him relax, he's a lot more bubbly afterwards and likes to stay up with you, talking, drinking water (but not eating anything because he refuses to have crumbs in the bed)

Melone

- Has the WEIRDEST fixation on bodily fluids like I get where he's coming from but WHY

- As smooth as a baby. Everywhere. We think he waxes but we haven't seen proof yet. He's also got a pretty dick.

- Ribbons, ropes, chains, leather, he's a really big fan of restraints as long as there's a safe word and you're both on the right track

- Totally down to try anything, just ask. He's eager to please.

- Yes.... He has a breeding kink. He wants a big family

- Idk what you call it but pls pls pls let him suck on your titties while you jerk him off. He can die happily

- Really likes the 69 position (with him on top)

Sorbet & Gelato

- Buy one get one free, you cannot get one without the other let's make that clear. They're both sadistic meanies and will not let you top

- Double penetration or spit roasting is a MUST

- Being in a relationship with each other for so long they've gotten good with aftercare, Gelato is more touchy feely while Sorbet is all about snacks and vitamins

- Sorbet bites, Gelato fucking claws. They're both very into marking you up everywhere and love the embarrassment they get from you

- They love you, they really do... But sometimes they can get a little caught up in the moment with their own makeout sessions

- Afterwards you all just collapse into a pile of limbs lol

#steamy writing #jjba headcanons #la squadra x reader #la squadra #golden wind #risotto nero x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet x reader #gelato x reader #risotto nero #prosciutto jjba #formaggio #illuso #pesci jjba #melone jojo #ghiaccio

[dejwrld]

talk about our future, like we had a clue. never planned that one day i'd be losing you.

tybw spoilers, angst, sadness, pls i'm sorry you guys this is just something short that popped up in my mind, let me know if you guys kinda want something else with this ship on like how they met or whatever, after reading this go listen to build a home by the cinematic orchestra ft patrick watson & the one that got away by katy petty, other creations | jūshirō ukitake

You didn't enjoy how Shunsui Kyōraku was looking at you. His eyes reeked with sadness and sorrow while you lean forward to pour the steaming tea into his cup. You purposely chose lavender tea because it helped with stress—he was the newest commander of all the divisions after all. You can only imagine how stressful that new role was pushed upon him so suddenly amid a war. The silence between you two made you nervous, but you had a feeling that your husband's best friend was here across the Chabudai like old times for a reason.

A reason that you didn't want to accept just yet.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Shunsui breaks the avoidable sound of nothingness. A void that you didn't want to break because you knew why he was apologizing.

He places the folded white captain coat you've seen your husband wiggle his frame in before the sun has risen many times on the Chabudai and slides it closer to you.

Your chest tighten so harshly that it felt like you couldn't breathe. It felt like a tight chain was wrapped around your chest and limbs and only growing tighter with each passing second of your own silence. Your shoulders lowered and your body couldn't help but slouch at his words. You blink a couple times thinking that maybe this was a nightmare. That if you blinked just five more times, you'll wake up and he'll be right next to sleeping peacefully. But your fifth time blinking, Shunsui still was there.

Your hands shook as you pick up your own cup to sip the warm liquid before speaking, "For what Shunsui? Say it. What exactly are you apologizing for?"

You thought that maybe Shunsui ripping the bandaid off fully would be better. That you can surpass the emotions that were currently attempting to break through this strong barrier you've built up since being married to him. A barrier that you had to build since you knew something like this could happen.

Shunsui's perfectly sculpted jaw clenches, but not in frustration. He didn't want to admit this to you because he still couldn't believe it. He knew this would break you.

"He's gone, Y/N. Jūshirō is gone."

Your eyes graze downward at the white fabric in front of you and finally, the tears you were holding back finally came tumbling down your heated cheeks. A shaky sigh passed by your lips as you were trying your hardest to process this. Your thoughts were swirling around your mind so loudly and quickly that you wanted to turn your brain off. You wanted to climb back into bed and weep until you ran out of tears. But you couldn't.

He wouldn't want that. But gosh, this hurts. It felt like you just received a knife to the heart. Because that's what was taken from you. Your heart. Your moon. Your soulmate.

You went to ask how did it happen. You deserved to know but weren't quite sure if you could handle the truth of that. Your lips went dry parts to speak, but the door of the area you and Shunsui were in was slid open and your head turns to see who was coming in. Your heart cracks in your chest seeing your little baby crawl into the room followed by one of your friends whose been hear with your since Jushiro hasn't been home. He hated when you were home alone.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. Haru is such a busybody." Your friend jokes but her lips form a straight line when she realizes the tension in the room.

"It's okay, he can stay. But do you think you can pack some things for me? I think I'm going to be staying at my family's estate for a couple of days." Your arms open up so little Haru could climb into your lap.

Your friend didn't question why the suddenness of you needing to go be with your family, but she only nods before excusing herself to do what you asked.

Your head rests on top of Haru's head briefly. His white locks of hair that were beginning to grow faster than you expected tickled your chin. Your eyes met with Shunsui's and the look in them grew darker. Haru's curious hands reach forward to attempt to grab at his father's captain coat which still was like a haunted artifact that you didn't want to touch in the middle of the table.

"Did he die in battle? Fighting?" You asked.

"Sacrificed." Shunsui's answer was short and brief. He sips from his cup despite the fact that the warm liquid didn't calm his nerves at all.

A sad chuckle erupts from you and you give Shunsui a sad lopsided grin, "Of course he did."

Silence overcame you and Shunsui again. You couldn't quite understand how silence couldn't be heard. But it could be considered the loudest sound a person can hear. A deafening void that left a nasty pit in your stomach that was tied into the nastiest knots at the moment.

"Are you going to be okay?" Shunsui leans forwards closer and his large frame leans against the wooden table.

"No, but we'll get through it." Your fingers run through Haru's hair to push some of it out his face.

Shunsui's eyes looked at the infant in your lap and now his stomach was the one churning into abhorrent knots. He was staring at a reflection of Jushiro in the baby. From the curious doe eyes, the crystal white hair, and even down to the way his face scrunched up in frustration due to him not being able to reach Jūshirō's captain coat. His best friend made the same exact face when he was frustrated.

"Will you though? You lost your husband, Y/N. It's okay to break down."

"And you lost your best friend Shunsui, but you must stay strong too because you have commanding captain duties to do, right? The war isn't over yet." You hugged Haru closer because it felt like alongside the memories you shared with Jūshirō that Haru was the last thing of him left.

"Haru and I will be okay because Jūshirō's best friend will not leave me alone until he ensures that I am. Plus, I'm positive that's something he told you to do before he made his decision. Am I correct?"

#ukitake jushiro x reader #jushiro ukitake x reader #bleach x reader #bleach angst #anime x reader #black reader #x black reader #female reader #bleach x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[omgjumin]

10:59pm ☆ miya atsumu

you knew from the way your boyfriend quickly slammed the door shut behind him, he was angry. it wasn't often that atsumu came home angry. but instead he came home disappointed. atsumu would be quite disappointed in himself that he didn't work hard enough to score the winning point. but as soon as the next morning rolled in, he'd be passionate to practice and practice till he perfected what he messed up in the previous game.

but now with the sheer amount of anger you could feel radiating off of atsumu, you halted everything you were doing at the moment. even the smallest things could set him off.

"baby, are you okay? what's wrong?" you hesitantly spoke out, your footsteps slowly approaching where he stood. his furious brown eyes met yours before quickly looking away. "talk to me please." you wanted to reach out your hand and hold him in your arms because some days that's exactly what atsumu needed. but as soon as your fingers even dared to inch closer to him, atsumu stepped backwards. "did your game go badly?" you questioned, your voice faltered as you did so but you wished that it went unnoticed. "you'd know if you went." you so desperately wanted to scoff. atsumu knew you couldn't make it because you had work so why is he blaming you now? he had a rough day, you should understand so you took a step back, further increasing the space in between you.

"i had work tsumu, i'm sorry i missed it but i'll be sure to make it to your next one, okay?" you never knew that one promise could set him off but it did. "you fuckin' said that last time, now here we are. it feels great to see you don't care." atsumu knew that if you could drop everything to support him, you without a doubt would, but after being let down twice, he couldn't help but express his disappointment towards you. sure, samu was there, supporting atsumu like he always does. but not having you, you were his lucky charm. maybe that was the reason he lost. maybe he should stop placing his faith in you to show up. or at all. "god, you're so annoying." atsumu whispered as if he didn't want anyone to hear. but with the sheer amount of distance between you, you had heard it. "what?"

atsumu peers over your shoulder, his eyes avoiding yours like you weren't anything important. you froze, your hands rolled stiffly into fists, the heated air feels like it could cut through ice, as you stood there. surely you and atsumu have been in plenty of small fights but they were just that, a small one. yet not once had atsumu called you annoying. your eyes quickly dropped down to the floor before turning away and walking towards the guest bedroom.

"don't, miya." atsumu was sure that then he could feel thousands of volleyballs slamming against his chest as he heard his last name fall from your mouth. his throat squeezed tightly, suddenly feeling parched from the dry and cold atmosphere between you. his hand from where it was reaching out to you, falling sadly to his side. "look, i-" you turned your shoulder, your eyes catching a glimpse of atsumu. "i'm so sorry, baby, please don't shut me out." you had to scoff at him, the mere irony of his own sentence, but you chose not to. your hands slowly unfolded, your palms were clammy from how you were intensely holding them close. "but you can shut me out?"

atsumu takes one step closer to you before taking a deep breath. "no, shit, i know i did, but," you really couldn't handle the awkward tension in the air but avoiding it would only make it worse. "but i hate being angry. and i'd hate it even more when you're angry at me too." it didn't take much to fully face atsumu but with the two heavy weights on your shoulders, anger and avoidance, it took much longer than it should've. "i'm not angry with you atsumu."

"please call me tsumu." he cringed at the way his full name came out once again. he begged for you to use the nickname you've always used for him. "next time this happens, i am going to keep walking." atsumu nodded quickly, his hands finding their place in yours. "now tsumu, tell me what happened? i'm here to listen.

#im sorry for the angst #but uh here u go #ill make up for this i promise #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu angst #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq angst #omgjumin

[berzatoe]

hi! just thinking about carmy and the reader having a heated argument and then just ending up making out while in the middle of discussing

thank you <3

Hiiii thanks for this!! Sorry I’m just now getting around to it xo

He’d be such a little shit constantly.

Wether it’d be taking it out on you when things got too busy and hectic in the kitchen, or getting overwhelmed and throwing a fit, screaming his lungs out, chewing your head off if you were in his way, he was a absolute nuisance. You hated Carmy on bad days.

But on good days, he was really good. He’d take extra time to explain things to you, run you through recipes and cooking techniques. You’d stay late and have deep conversations, muse about the future of the restaurant together. It always made your heart beat fast and your cheeks flush when you’d see him the next day. He had a gentleness that was almost no where to be found under high-stress situations.

Today was one of those. It was a bad day. It was busy. The truck came in late and half empty. And you kept upsetting Carmy.

Strike one: you’d ripped the green tape like an asshole.

Carmy came storming into the kitchen holding it up for all to see, “Who the fuck does this? Chefs? How many times do I have to tell you to stop. Ripping. Tape. Like. Assholes!” He punctuated each word.

“My bad, chef.” You responded, barely paying him a glance as you busied yourself with work.

He came over to you then, as everyone went back to work, and sternly spoke; “I expect more from you chef, really.”

“Sorry, chef.” You responded, still staring down at your hands chopping scallions.

“Look at me… please.” The way his voice sounded when he said the last word drew you in, for some reason.

You looked up and met his icy eyes. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

He simply nodded and walked away, getting back to his own work and unsettling you for the rest of the day.

Strike two: walking out during rush.

You just had to get out of there. You were sweating so much you were almost convinced you had heat exhaustion. Your head was pounding and the general noise of the restaurant and kitchen along with the staff was making you dizzy.

Not to mention Carmy’s yelling. Jesus Christ, he had a set of lungs. Each passing minute of this day, you were getting more and more fed up with him. He had a mean streak in that kitchen, likely, you assumed, something he’d picked up in New York from the big shots.

Or maybe his parents, or maybe his clear inability to confront his emotions, you didn’t know and you were desperately trying to get your mind off of him.

In the heart of the kitchen, the bell ringing, the printer spitting out countless receipts, dishes clattering, and above all, Carmy’s angry voice booming, you felt like you were going to pass out. Feeling your mouth go dry and fingers go numb, you sprinted out of the restaurant, leant against the back alley and finally breathed.

When you collected yourself and returned to the kitchen 5 minutes later, Carmy was pissed.

“Where the fuck were you, chef? I needed you!” He shouted once he saw you walk through the back.

“I needed a minute, chef.” You responded calmly. He got close to you again.

“Are you blind, chef? Do you not see how swamped we are? Hmm? You didn’t even want to let me know?” You were thankful he wasn’t shouting anymore, but his voice was still venomous, shooting to kill.

You turned around in looked him in the eyes, a silent plead to let the moment go.

“What is it?” He asked, confused.

“I just got really overwhelmed, Carmy…. I needed a second, okay? I’m here to help now.” You said the words gently.

Carmy straightened up, nodded, and rubbed his fist in circles against his chest. That was that.

You thought you were finally done with fighting him for the day, until close.

Strike 3: the corner

It was late. You were tired. Everyone had gone home. You were quickly wrapping up your closing duties and sprinting around the restaurant so you could get home and cuddled up in your bed as soon as possible.

You weren’t paying attention, and you had your earbuds in, listening to music to help you get in your closing groove.

You were rounding a corner when you crashed straight into Carmy. You recoiled back and rubbed your nose as he rubbed his head. Pulling one earbud out, you glanced down. At your feet were 3 broken cans of red sauce, spilled onto the newly mopped floor.

You looked up to see Carmy glaring at you.

“CORNER! I said fuckin’ corner….” He groaned.

You shot down and began picking up the cans.

“Those earbuds… take ‘em out, right now.” He reached out and opened his palm.

“Are you serious?” You began prepping the mop.

“Yes, chef.” With the tone he took, the title almost sounded degrading.

You grit your teeth and placed them in his out-stretched hand.

“Great, now I have to be here another 30 minutes so we can get that cleaned and dry.”

“Fine, Go home, Carmy. I can lockup. I’ll manage. Please, leave.” You said.

He looked taken aback.

“No. I can’t leave the premises until every employee is gone.”

“Who made that rule?” It sounded like he had made it up on the spot.

“I did…. You gotta get home safe, it’s the city.”

You rolled your eyes at this and he looked at you confused.

“What?”

“Nothing, chef.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“No, tell me.”

“I’ll be fine. I want you to go. I can take care of myself”

“Im not sure you can, chef.” He said it with a mocking chuckle that made you clench your fists.

“You underestimate me carmy. That’s all you do. Since I started, you don’t think I can do anything right.”

“Because you can’t!” He shouted exasperatedly.

“Yes I can! You don’t give me the chance! You have no faith in me!”

“It was our busiest day in a month and you were a mess the entire time!” He prickled

“I was a mess? I ripped tape wrong, yeah. I took a 5 minute break because your damn-near verbal abuse of the staff was overwhelming me, and I’m sorry I ran into you, but seriously Carmy, get a hold of yourself. How are you gonna run a restaurant if you can’t even regulate your own stupid emotions?” You huffed at the end of your little speech, slightly pleased for sticking up for yourself.

Carmy was not pleased. In fact he looked kinda scary right now. You couldn’t read him, but you could tell what you said affected him.

“Leave. You’re cut.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re cut.”

“You’re firing me?” You scoffed

“Leave your apron on the counter I’ll email your last check.”

You were flabbergasted. You searched his eyes, hoping he was bluffing.

“Go home, Chef.” He repeated.

“You know Carmy, I really don’t think you’re a bad person. You’re not a bad person.”

“Shut up.” He interrupted you.

“You get overwhelmed like me.”

“Stop”

“And it pushes you until you’re at a breaking point before you can check yourself. But you’re a good boss. And you’ve changed this restaurant. And you’re a good person.”

He doesn’t protest to this statement, he doesn’t say anything.

You begin to turn around to leave, mustering a goodbye;

“Thanks for the opportunity, Chef Car—” you’re suddenly pulled back around by a hand latched to your elbow. You’re now flush to Carmy’s chest, noses touching.

And all at once, your lips are touching. At first you’re confused, trying to understand if this is really happening, if Carmy Berzatto was really kissing you. You could sense the same sort of anxious stiffness from him. You were still so mad.

But his lips were smooth and gentle, and your stomach filled with butterflies even though a minute ago you could’ve stabbed him.

At first it was more like a short peck. The two of you pulled apart and looked into each others eyes, scanning scared and eager faces.

You wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and placed your hand in his hair, urging him to come closer. He obliged, returning and deepening the kiss with fervor.

His strong arm came around to hold the small of your back, his other resting at the nape of your neck, hand stretching out and thumb brushing against your jaw.

You softly licked into his mouth, earning a guttural sound from him in response.

After that, he was everywhere, pulling you close, hands gingerly traveling the expanses of your clothed body. You smelled his cologne and sweat after the work day, you tasted a bit of the cigarette left on his tongue from his smoke break, your hands twisted around his soft curls. Every sense was filled with Carmy.

The kiss was incredible, you had to admit. You never imagined Carmy could kiss like this, could give you this much of himself, all of this raw emotion. He was so tender with every beginning brush of his lips, before slowly becoming ravenous and desperate for more. Your stomach was in knots and you were getting antsy, wanting more too and knowing you should put an end to it.

Luckily, he pulled away for air first, saving you the chore. He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing rapidly.

“That was…” he began, slightly speechless.

“A one time thing.” You finished quickly, pulling away.

Carmy met your panicked gaze and just fuckin’ smirked at you, as if he knew how severely you were lying to yourself.

You grabbed your bag in a hurry and began walking towards the door.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Carmy asked.

“That depends. Am I fired?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then yeah, I guess. In like… a purely professional work way, yes you will see me tomorrow.”

“Yeah, uh-huh.” He smiled and opened the door for you, starting to walk out along side you.

“Um.. what are you doing?”

“Walking you to your car,” Carmy replied, “company policy.”

He winked at you and you turned your head, blushing into the night sky.

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto smut #carmy imagine #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy smut #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy fluff #carmy angst #carmy request #ask

[mickittotheman]

Maybe #6 ...on a falling tear.

But maybe smut 😅

Ahem. Um. Yes.

Putting this under a read more cut for obvious reasons 😶

6. ...on a falling tear (but definitely smut)

It’s Ian’s day off, the house is empty, the vibrating anal beads they splurged on finally arrived in the mail, and they're having a great time.

It’s obvious, from the way Ian is grinning wide, eyes sparkling, laughter huffing from his lungs, that he’s enjoying this. 

Mickey’s enjoying it too, of course. It’s just that he expresses joy a bit differently than most people. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you, fuck you, Ian, gonna fucking kill you, fuck.”

Ian laughs again, and his warm breath puffing against Mickey’s spit soaked nipple gets an interesting response, so he follows it up by pursing his lips and blowing out a long, cool stream of air.

“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey whines, voice keening and plaintive once more. 

It’s one of the many, many things Ian loves about his husband: the way his mood flips on a dime even during sex, especially during sex, how he’ll go from growling threats to pathetic pleading to blabbering praises and back again.

“So good, it’s so good, Ian, please, love you, you're so good.”

“Yeah? You like this, baby?” Ian pulls back to get a better view of Mickey’s face. It's quite the sight to behold: skin flushed and brows furrowed and mouth swollen and slick, plush lower lip bitten hard by one sharp little canine tooth. 

Mickey tips his head back against the pillow. Shakes it frantically. “No, I don’t fucking like this, I hate this, fuck, I hate you.”

“Oh? You don’t like this?” Ian hums. Rubs one big hand soothingly up and down Mickey’s heaving chest. “Hm. Maybe we oughta try a different setting, then.”

“Wait–”

Mickey’s eyes fly open just in time to see Ian grin as he presses the button on the remote.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Ian, Ian, please–”

“Please what? Put it higher?”

Ian presses another button without waiting for an answer. Watches in awe as Mickey’s back arches, as his muscles tense, limbs straining against the restraints, as his cock jerks untouched against his stomach, come dribbling down to join the other spatters in varying states of drying.

Ian clicks the remote again. Drops the strength to the lowest setting, switches the pulse pattern to something steady and predictable.

Mickey sobs, just once, and Ian’s grin widens. 

When Mickey cries during sex, that means Ian is doing his job really, really well. 

It’d freaked him out the first time. Made him panic. Made him think he’d hurt Mickey in a way he hadn’t intended to.

But that was years ago.

Nowadays, making Mickey cry is one of Ian’s favorite activities.

“So good, baby,” he gushes, leaning in to kiss Mickey’s forehead. “You’re doing so good. You were fucking made for this, Mickey. Made to be tied up and pleasured and used all day long.”

Ian can physically feel Mickey’s skin heat up against his lips. Can feel him shudder and shake. Can feel him nod, just a tiny, jerky little motion. 

Ian pulls back again, wanting to drink in the sight of him, wanting to see it forever and ever and ever. “Fuck, baby. I should take a fucking picture. Actually, I should just keep you like this 24/7.”

Mickey’s breath stutters, his eyes fluttering open to peer up at Ian blearily, the tiniest little noise clawing from his throat. 

Ian smiles softly at him. Brings a hand up to cup his face and swipe at his tears with his thumb. “You want that, baby? Yeah. Maybe you’re right about not needing a job. Maybe I should just keep you tied up like this all day instead, ready for me to use whenever I want. Would be a great stress relief, after a long day of work. ‘Course, some days I’d be too tired to fuck you, but that’s okay. I can just leave you like this, right?”

Mickey whines in protest. Shakes his head. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Mick. I’m just teasing,” he soothes, ducking down again to kiss the fresh tear rolling down Mickey’s cheek. “I’d never be able to leave you completely untouched. I’d have to do something. Something like this, maybe.”

He clicks the remote again, ramping the vibrations back up to level five, switching the pattern to an unyielding bzzzzzzzzzz.

“Fuck!”

Ian laughs. Palms at his own dick, just to take a bit of the pressure off. “We’re almost done, babe. Promise.”

“Yeah?” Mickey pants, melting a bit in relief even as his wrists flex against the leather cuffs fruitlessly.

“Ian! Fuck, fuck you, please please please, I need you, I love you, Ian–”

“Yeah,” Ian assures him. “Just gonna make you come one more time with these in.” He pauses. Cocks his head. “Well, and then of course I’ll have to pull these out of you, one by one, and fuck knows how many times you’ll come during that. Plus, I’m obviously going to have to fuck you at least once. Maybe twice. I’m feeling pretty worked up, y’know?”

This time, Mickey comes with a high pitched whine and a steady stream of tears.

Oh yeah. They are definitely having fun.

send me a number~

#prompt games #gallavich #my scribblings #milestone achieved: first actual smut posting #nobody look at me rn #um. thank you for the prompt. i hope you like it????? #maybe??????????? #hopefully????????????????? #🫣