#or rarely smoking strong cigarettes

[fuckaperioddrama]

Tom Riddle Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic!Tom | Mentions of Sex | Mentions of BDSM | Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol | Mentions of Emotional Manipulation | Oral (Fem/Male Receiving) | Orgasm Denial | Let me know if I missed something!

Fem!Reader

Author's Note: Tom's headcanons are going to be a little serious. He isn't as easygoing as the other boys are.

Still delulu where it counts.

Proofread, not edited. Might have mistakes.

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Blaise Zabini Headcanons

Draco Malfoy Headcanons

Masterlist

Minors DNI | 18+

—-

Tom Riddle | Physique

6’3

He is just? Sturdy

Solid. | I don’t know how to define this. He just looks like he’d be hard to push. You need a lot of force to move Tom Riddle

I think he doesn’t have super-defined muscles, but he’s naturally strong. | Something in the Riddle genes, but let's be honest here. Do we really think Tom Riddle is dedicating any time to working out? I don't.

Long

Long arms, long legs, fingers, dick

Looks approachable | I actually feel like his face isn't that off putting. It's his eyes, demeanor, and reputation that make him scary.

Tom Riddle | Personality

I'm not thinking of Moldy Voldy, we are talking about Tom Riddle.

HE CAN ACTUALLY BE NICE SOMETIMES | Oop.

He's never nice to strangers unless he wants something, but can be exceedingly charming when he needs to be.

Very emotional. It's very easy to upset Tom Riddle, but he won't always show it in the moment. Sometimes he waits to strike back.

Extremely manipulative and fueled by quiet rage.

So smart, but that is largely due to the fact that most of his time is spent studying.

Is always top of the class. Especially because he secretly craves validation.

Unintentionally attaches himself to his male professors, always craving their validation more than his other professors. He spends a lot of time after class talking to them about the material and indirectly seeking praise for his understanding of it.

More of a loner, he doesn't talk a lot.

I lied when I said the whole group participates in gardening.

Tom does not smoke at all. No drugs of any kind. No cigarettes and no weed.

He does drink from time to time, but the most he'll allow himself to feel is a small buzz.

Very paranoid, always on high alert.

Hates parties, but he has attended a couple here and there

Tom Riddle | Casanova

Tom does hook up with people, but it's RARE

He'll randomly wake up one day feeling extremely horny. Not his typical horny, this kind is excruciating. He can't think, he can barely eat, and he's constantly fidgeting in his seat hoping that his robe is doing a good job at hiding his problem.

Those are the days he goes to parties and if there isn't one going on he'll find somebody and charm his way into obtaining whatever he wants.

He's Tom Riddle after all.

Sex is only about him. Doesn't care about foreplay. Little to no kissing. Straight to the point.

DOM AND ROUGH

Spanking choking, restraints, very into BDSM

Not so much degrading, but more commanding.

Get on your knees.

Open your legs. Wider.

Take it. All of it.

It turns him on when people obey him.

He won't talk to these people afterward, but he will have sex with them again.

No prior warning. He just suddenly appears and expects them to drop everything for him.

Tom Riddle | Friend

Tom isn't the worst friend??

Closest to his brother

Tom and Mattheo don't talk a whole lot, but sometimes Tom will check in on him.

He'll pick him up from a party if he's excessively drunk or high.

Leave detailed notes in his room whenever he misses class.

He does a lot for his brother but he doesn't talk about it. When Mattheo sees the notes on his desk or suddenly wakes up in his bed after a night out he knows it was his big brother.

He doesn't spend a lot of time with his friends outside of lessons and eating together occasionally.

He has these little moments where he suddenly feels lonely and then he'll show up to whatever outing they're on. It used to freak them out how he'd suddenly appear, but now they're used to it.

Tom does care about his friends, but he doesn't show it. Ever.

He probably never will.

Tom Riddle | Boyfriend

Tom's love is extremely obsessive

He has planned out every second of your lives together. Nothing and no one will come between those plans. Even you.

Quality Time

Everywhere Tom goes you go. He won't talk to you much, but he expects you to be there all of the time.

Genuinely gets upset if you try to spend time without him.

He walks you to and from your lessons, you have to sit next to him if your schedules match up, and sit next to him everywhere else too.

Tom is always nervous something is going to happen to you or that you're going to try to leave him so he keeps an eye on you at all times.

In those instances where you can't be together, Tom would drop everything for you instantly.

Since his love is fueled by obsession he is more than willing to put whatever he’s doing on pause if you need his help.

Tom does a lot for you and has a tendency to buy you things, especially if you’re upset with him in any way.

Intimacy is hard for him so he primarily shows his love through Acts of Service and Gift Giving

Tom Riddle's son vibes, not orphan Tommy

Tom does not give you these gifts personally. He just leaves them in your room. How did he get in there? You never know.

Tom doesn't know what kind of gifts you would normally buy your partner

I can actually see Tom secretly reading a romance novel or two just so he has an idea of what things boyfriends are 'supposed to do'

He thinks the way the characters acted was absolutely ridiculous, but at least he made an effort.

He still implements some of the things he learned about

Tom will buy flowers and jewelry but it's completely random.

He will do it on special occasions after learning that's the norm, but in terms of doing them on any regular day, it's something that just pops into his head from time to time.

He sees a flower on the ground and then suddenly he's thinking about buying you flowers.

Sees a piece of jewelry and so he goes out and buys you some. He needs visual reminders.

Then one day you come back to discover a bouquet or a box sitting on your bed.

You try to thank him, but he is not having it

You'll walk up to him all giddy after noticing the gift

Tha-

Don't mention it.

...

...You're welcome.

Tom would also handle all of your school supplies

He gets ahold of your list | Once again, no one knows how he does stuff. He merely does it | and he'll just go out and buy every book, quill, and piece of paper you need

He's not into PDA, but he would do public services for you.

He holds the door open, pulls out your seat, holds your belongings, and will just randomly help you with things without you having to ask

Very on top of your health.

Will always make sure you're taking care of yourself. He's the 'Did you drink water today?' boyfriend

Tom didn't really start caring about mental breaks before you. He'll work himself till he dies.

But Tom knows you. He knows your mind and your body. He is very in tune with your mental and physical needs.

Tom would study with you and make sure you're on top of your work, but he would implement breaks for your sake.

Tom! I said I don't know! I don't know! Obviously, you're not explaining it to me well enough. Can we just move on?

He just stares at you, not trying to hide his aggravation, and before you get the chance to apologize he's already stood from his seat collecting all of your belongings.

We're going to go get some fresh air.

I don't nee-

Yes, you do.

Tom would be annoyed by the fact that you can't study for 8 hours straight like him, but he wouldn't complain.

He knows he's built different. His girl needs breaks, so she gets breaks.

While walking through the castle from the library late at night Tom will sometimes place his hand on your back, Always saving the Physical Touch for when you're alone.

You would have to initiate most of the physical touch with Tom

He wouldn't reject it as long as it's done privately. Kissing his cheek while he's reading, resting on his lap while he studies, combing your hands through his hair while he's talking

Tom Riddle craves physical intimacy, he just won't ever admit to that.

If anyone were to ever catch you two when hugging or kissing he would obliviate them. Immediately.

Tom always initiates the cuddling when you two are about to go to sleep. Wrapping his arm around you as he pulls you flush against him. He likes to hold you very tightly when you're sleeping just to make sure he knows you're there. It's impossible for you to get up without alerting him first and that's just the way he likes it.

When both wake up you always stay in the position for a while. You both know the other person is awake, but no one is moving or talking.

Tom is most gentle in the mornings because that's when he knows his time alone with you is limited. At night he doesn't feel the same rush.

He always showers with you, washing your body gently and helping you style your hair.

He puts lotion on you, rolls your tights onto your legs, and buttons your shirt. Any excuse he can use to touch you in some way. | Kinda goes in with acts of service too.

Then before you leave for the day Tom will muster up the strength to finally do what he wants.

Holding you tightly as he kisses you, making sure to get his fill.

Words of Affirmation

Tom likes to praise you,

Especially if you're doing what you're supposed to be doing.

He always points out when you're doing a good job. Work-wise, personal goals, whatever. He will always acknowledge when you accomplish something

Looking over your shoulder as you complete your last assignment. Checking your answers as you write them down.

That's it. That's it.

Keep going.

Good girl.

Tom Riddle is another letter man. It's really hard for him to do things like tell you he loves you, call you beautiful, etc

He only gives you these letters on special occasions and hides them amongst the gifts he leaves you.

The main time he will convey his affection verbally is if you're angry at him.

He knows that since he doesn't say that kind of stuff often it always catches you off guard and he will use that to his advantage.

I love you.

Any anger you had fading as you stare at him in shock

I don't like it when we fight, darling.

I don't like it either.

Then maybe we should put our energy somewhere else.

Tom Riddle | Committed Lover

Tom was always horny, he just had restraint. That's why he didn't hook up that often.

With you?

He can't control himself and that makes him angry. He doesn't like feeling out of control.

Then there's the added fact that he doesn't like to touch you in public

HE GETS NEEDY

The second he can squeeze some alone time in with you you always end up bent over something, the sounds of your skin relentlessly clapping together and echoing through whatever space you're in.

Don't worry, he took measures to make sure you two have your privacy.

Tom becomes a whole new person when you guys have sex

Every impulse, every greedy touch, everything he has been wanting to do to you just comes out.

Still sticking to the fact that this man is ROUGH

He loves receiving. There's just something about seeing you on your knees, tears running down your face as he shoves his dick down your throat

Tom wasn't big on foreplay before, but he likes it with you because he gets to taunt you. He takes his time with foreplay.

As long as you were willing, Tom would have sex with you frequently and because of that, I think there would be a lot of giving too.

He likes those moments where he's in between your legs as his tongue takes long and slow movement up and down your slit.

You want more. You need more, but he won't give it to you until he feels like you worked hard enough for it.

Tommmmm...I'll be good. I'll do anything you want, just please go faster.

No.

DOM

If being on top is something you really want then he'll use it as a reward.

Still in control, there are bruises left on you from how tight his hands are gripping you.

Ass so sore you can't sit down the next day because he was spanking you the entire time, wanting to remind you who was really in charge.

Sometimes he has those moments where he lets go and allows himself to simply lay back and enjoy, but don't ever get too cocky.

Any teasing from you and you're on your back before you even get the chance to blink

Playtimes over, doll.

After he's done you're regretting everything you said to set him off

Tom can go all night long, he doesn't need sleep.

And after dating him for a while you don't need it either.

—

A/N: I really enjoyed writing Tom's headcanons. As always, let me know if you disagree! I like hearing all different takes.

#tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle hc #tom riddle headcanon #slytherin boys headcanon #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #theo nott #slytherin #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you

[aurorawritestoescape]

PERFECT STRANGERS

Pairing: no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day at a restaurant with your boyfriend and have eyes only for one man. The other man.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, semi-public, f!oral, implied age gap, unprotected piv (wrap it up), double infidelity, pet names ‘little girl’, ‘baby’, a bit of degradation, smoking, alcohol consumption, swearing

Word count: 2,8k

A/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovely people! here’s some filth for you💖 hope you’ll enjoy!

Huge thank you to @milla-frenchy for the title 😘

MASTERLIST || PART 2

You noticed him as soon as he entered the restaurant. He was not alone. No one usually goes alone to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. A waiter led him and a woman he accompanied to their table, and they joined the other couples celebrating their eternal love.

You were not alone, either. Your boyfriend of one year was sitting in front of you. He was complaining about his work like he often did, and being a supportive girlfriend, you offered him a listening ear and all the comforting words. While talking to him, you noticed that if you shifted your gaze a little to the left, you could see the man facing you at his table.

He was handsome, and at first your eyes found him again and again out of simple curiosity and because of your love for looking at beautiful things and people.

You were subtle, stealing glances at the stranger on a rare occasion. Your eyes would take in his hands, lips, and curly locks. You noticed a gold band on his finger, the fullness of his lips, the way he shifted his jaw from time to time while listening to the woman. You were pretty sure it was his wife.

The moment that made it more complicated, and impactful was when your eyes locked. The room wasn’t that big, your tables weren’t that far away, and you two were facing each other, so it was absolutely normal for your gazes to meet at some point. So they met once. Then again. And again. And a few more times. Many more times.

Talking and eating, you sometimes felt his eyes on you, intent yet warm. His gaze would slide over the woman and land on your face, your chest, your partner.

When your eyes locked, your breath would hitch, and you would look at each other for too long. At one point, you got lost in his eyes, drawn to him by a magnetic pull, and when you dropped your head and looked at the pasta on your plate, you felt like something had been said between you two. A greeting. A secret. A wish.

At one point in the evening, the woman left him for the bathroom, and your stomach churned with excitement as you anticipated seeing more of him. You could finally get a full image of his torso, so you were shamelessly ogling his broad chest and

strong shoulders under the confines of his shirt. Then you looked up at his face and saw his gaze on you. He gave you a lopsided smile and took a sip of his wine without breaking eye contact.

“Are you ok?” Your boyfriend asked, having noticed your changed expression—lips parted, eyes blown and widened.

“Ah...yeah,” you replied, quickly averting your eyes from the stranger.

But you weren’t ok. You were tingling, and your stomach was burning with something bright and overwhelming. Something you’d never felt with the man sitting at your table.

You took a deep breath, and the night went on. Stolen glances were still exchanged between the handsome stranger and you, but you tried to stop yourself from looking at him.

It got too much for you when the woman laughed loudly at something the man said, and his devastatingly beautiful smile made your heart beat faster. A surge of jealousy burned your insides, so you cursed under your breath and took your purse, looking for a pack of cigarettes. You had quit a long time ago, but when you felt overwhelmed or anxious, it was a great way to flee from a place, a conversation, or a person. Which you wanted to do at that moment. So you got up and walked to the entrance, trying not to look at him. You failed miserably, as your eyes immediately darted to his face, and you saw him watching you. He ran his hand through his hair, and his expression was pensive and serious.

***

You stepped outside and took a deep breath of night air. You felt your nerves calm down and walked to the corner of the restaurant. It was quiet, as the street was almost deserted that late at night. It was windy, and the skin on your naked legs erupted in goosebumps, so you walked behind the corner of the building and into the alley next to it to hide from the chilling blows.

You cursed when you realised you forgot your lighter in the purse and were contemplating going back, but decided to spend a few minutes there before returning.

You leaned against the wall while the image of the stranger still occupied your mind.

You were standing with an unlit cigarette between your fingers when you heard a voice.

“Hey.”

You snapped your head in that direction and saw him standing at the corner, smoking. The stranger didn’t walk into the alley, didn’t walk closer, apparently not to scare you in that dark, empty street. A myriad of emotions began swarming in your stomach, but fear was not one of them.

“Need a lighter?” He asked, glancing your way from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, thank you,” you replied, clearing your throat. His voice was deep and gruff and so hot that your heart fluttered, and you felt tingling between your legs again.

He slowly walked to you and stopped at arm’s length, not barging into your personal space. When he took a lighter out of the pocket of his blazer, you stepped up to him, raising your cigarette and placing the tip between your lips. You could have lit it yourself, but you wanted him to get closer. He leaned towards you and covered the flame from the wind with his big hand. Your eyes locked again, like many times before that night, but in that moment, it hit you like a freight train. His beautiful, dark eyes with little reflections of the flame pierced your soul and made you stop breathing for a moment. Your gaze lowered to his plush lips, which were slightly pouted, and when you looked up again, you saw him looking at your lips circled around the cigarette.

You took a first drag and stepped back just a little, wanting to stay close to him. He didn’t step away, and you two smoked together in silence until he talked,

“Is it your husband there?”

“No, boyfriend. And you're with your wife.” It wasn’t a question, you were sure of your words by then.

He hummed with a little nod and added with a glint in his eye,

“Does your boyfriend know you love staring at other men?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly collected yourself.

“Does your wife know you hang out with other women in dark alleys?” You quipped, looking up at him with defiance.

He laughed and gave you his gorgeous smile.

“Not any women. Only with the most beautiful one.” Your stomach made a flip when those words left his lips. The way he looked at you was different now. There was dominance, a desire, a need.

“You can’t just keep looking at me that way, little girl,”

He said, throwing away the bud and taking a step towards you. Your cigarette fell out of your hand as you stepped back, feeling the rush of a prey cornered after a chase. But there had been no chase. You were not a prey.

So you stood your ground, and he stepped up to you, so broad and strong, and you bit your lip, feeling the heat of his body warming you up.

“You were staring at me all night as well,” you asserted, looking up at him with your eyebrows raised.

Your heart was booming in your ears. The man smiled, before his hand grasped your hip, and he gently pushed you back.

He wasn't rough, you felt a slight pressure on your side, nudging you towards the wall behind. You complied breathing fast and not breaking eye contact.

In a moment, you felt a cold brick wall against your back, and the man stopped inches from you. The electricity between you two was almost tangible, and the darkness of the night was hiding you from the eye of a rare passerby. Only one streetlight at the corner of the restaurant let you see his handsome features.

“You’re right. I was watching you,” he murmured, bracing his hand on the wall next to your head as his other hand found your waist. “Couldn’t stop staring… pretty little thing.”

It seemed that you forgot how to breathe. Time stopped, and your mind was empty. The only thing that remained in the world was him, the man caging you against the wall in that dark alley.

He was looking down at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and back up. He was waiting for you to take a leap.

And you took it easily.

You stepped up to him, your bodies flush against each other, and pressed your lips to his.

It seemed like that was all he’d been waiting for. His arms enveloped your torso before he pinned you to the wall.

The kiss was overwhelming and hot. There was nothing sweet about it. He growled into your mouth while his hands began roaming your body. It was like he knew how little time you two had and wanted to touch you everywhere, feel you everywhere.

“Please,” you mewled into his mouth, and he parted from you.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you need..”

“I want you.”

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl,” he said with a shaky voice, feverishly unbuckling his belt. “Gonna let some stranger fuck you in an alley?”

“Yes,” you moaned, pulling your skirt up with shaky hands.

“Little slut. Let me see you,” he mumbled crouching in front of you and helping you pull your skirt up to your waist. He quickly tugged down your lacy panties, took them off, and looked at your pussy.

He cursed under his breath and opened your folds with his thumbs.

“Did watching me all night make you so wet, naughty girl?”

He wasn’t wrong. Cold air hit your soaked pussy and you shivered. Your clit was pulsating and when he put his mouth on it and began licking and sucking you felt like you were about to come.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mumbled against your flesh as you placed your feet apart so his tongue had better access. You were clutching his curls while his fingers were digging into your hips and kneading your ass cheeks. He seemed insatiable, making the flat of his tongue rub your clit, then caressing it with his soft lips.

“I’m…gonna come,” you moaned as he was sucking on your sensitive bud filling the alley with the lewdest slurping noises.

After a few moments, you came, shaking against the wall, your hand gripping his shoulder. He was lapping at your juices until you felt overstimulated, and slightly pushed him away.

He stood up, his scruff glistening with your slick.

“Come here, baby,” he growled, unzipping his jeans. He pulled out his cock, which was hard and throbbing. His warm hands grabbed your thighs, and he lifted you up.

You gasped, wrapped your legs around his waist, and put your arms around his neck. You felt his cock nudge your hole, and he started sinking his tip into you. His member was big, but your pussy was ready to take him after your orgasm so he bottomed out easily and started bouncing you on his cock.

The head was hitting your cervix rhythmically, and you wanted to scream, but the need to be quiet allowed only soft whimpers to leave your lips.

Suddenly, you heard buzzing.

His phone.

To your astonishment, he took it out of his pocket, holding you up with one arm, and, after a deep breath, answered the call.

“Honey, I’m helping this guy out. His car broke down,” he said while his cock was buried deep in your pussy, “No, don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While he was talking to his wife, you slid down the wall a bit, and he pushed you up, making his tip hit your cervix hard. You put your palm over your mouth just before a cry escaped your lips. He winked at you with gratitude and added, “Enjoy your dessert, honey.”

He hung up and mumbled, “I’m definitely enjoying mine.”

His lips immediately crushed into yours, and his hands grasped your ass cheeks as he continued to lift you up and down, using you like a fuck doll.

After a particularly hard thrust, you couldn’t help but moan loudly, and he placed his warm hand over your mouth and continued fucking up into your dripping hole.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he whispered into your ear between panting, “so wet and warm, fuck.. “ His scruffy beard was chafing your cheek, but you didn’t care. You were enjoying yourself too much, being fucked by a complete stranger while your boyfriend was waiting for you. On fucking Valentine’s Day. Despite or because of it, your second climax was building fast in your core.

“Can you come on my cock, little girl?” as if reading your thoughts, he asked you.

“Yeah..,” you murmured, “make me come, please."

“Fuck, I like you, so polite.” His hand left your ass and slithered between your bodies. His thumb quickly found your throbbing clit and he started rubbing it. His cock massaging your soft spot, his expert finger stimulating your clit quickly pushed you over the precipice.

You cried out, and he hastily placed his palm over your mouth, quieting you.

“Shhh, baby, you don’t wanna get caught full of stranger’s cock, do ya?” he chuckled, but you heard in his voice that he was close too.

“Fuck, not gonna last with you chokin’ my dick like that.”

The man hastily pulled out and put you down on your feet. He stepped to the side, pointing the tip of his cock at the wall, and started jerking his shaft while his other hand cupped your pussy. He was spreading your slick over your wet folds and watching them glisten.

Soon he moaned and started shooting the spurts of his cum on the wall. With hazy eyes and parted lips, you were taking in the image of him milking his cock.

When the last drop slid down his tip, he took out a handkerchief and wiped it off.

“Hell, baby, you’re something,” he said with a warm smile, panting heavily.

You two started fixing your clothes, glancing at each other from time to time. After you pulled down your skirt, he picked up your panties off the ground.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with an apologetic smile, and you shrugged, stuffing them into your pocket.

“We should go back,” you said with a touch of sadness in your voice. You wished you could spend the rest of the night with him, but reality was not made out of your dreams.

“You go first, and I’ll follow. Don’t want you to have problems with your guy.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet, and added,

“Hope your wife believed the car story.”

He chuckled and came up to you before taking your face in his hands. Your breath hitched again, and you marvelled at his beautiful features for the hundredth time that night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he murmured, and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

It was short and sweet, and when he parted from you, your eyes locked again, and you whispered back,

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

***

The both of you continued the dinner with your partners. He left before you, and on his way out, he turned his head and gave you a playful wink. You smiled into your wine glass as butterflies were swarming in your stomach. Suddenly you thought that you would probably never see him again, and tears welled up in your eyes.

***

In a cab on your way home, you remembered that your panties were still stuffed in your pocket and wanted to push them deeper when you felt something else there. You took it out and saw a card. You grinned widely, biting your lip with excitement.

There was a name on the card - Joel Miller, and a phone number underneath it.

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

Kisses and hugs for your comments and reblogs!😘🫂

PART 2

Tag list: @missannwinchester @morallyinept @bbyanarchist @harriedandharassed @nervousmumbling

If you’d like to join the tag list, let me know!❤️

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #valentine's day #tw infidelity

[sp00kymulderr]

inhale, exhale

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+. Fingering, mentions of sex, smoking (both reader and Joel), canon typical violence mentions, needy!Joel, fear of intimacy. Barely edited as usual.

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Strong arms wrap around you as Joel dozes on the couch.

You wiggle in his grasp a little, body cooling rapidly after the fact. Your panties are still hanging off one of your ankles and the cooling feeling of his cum between your legs makes you shiver when a breeze falls through the open window beside you.

He always does this, holds on tight like you'll disappear into nothing after you've given him yourself. He has to hold you close to make sure you're real, you think. Sometimes his eyes shine with the fear of something horrifying, but it has remained unspoken and you wonder if this strong, stoic man you've found to become a part of your life is afraid to be alone. It feels that way with how he molds you to his body now, the soft swell of his stomach beneath you rising and falling with his deep breaths.

You'd never expected to feel comfort in this world, to feel wanted. It still shakes you, scares you, the knowing that you are flitting purple and piquant through his mind even now as he starts to dream. Once when this thing was at its beginning he had told you he never dreamt. You could hear the lie in his stilted words.

Still uneasy in the role of his piece of comfort, you wriggle your way out as soon as Joel falls under the spell of sleep completely and his grip turns lax. He tugs a protest at your retreating form but it’s weak and waning as he falls back in the deep of dreamland. Your heart swells a little as you watch him, you have to allay the feeling from yourself as you stand.

He is something more than you expected, something you didn't plan to find and don't know how to have. Joel has long been a man left wanting. There is a desire in him that runs deeper than he'd ever admit; the need to love, to share, to hold, to treasure. He acts sometimes like every moment together is the last.

Maybe he is right to do that.

Turning from his sleeping form, you plant bare feet on the cold floor. A silvery shivering thread pulls through your spine and it makes you want to wrap back up in him, just for a moment. Instead you shake yourself and pull up your panties. The warmth of his spend is slowly seeping from you, when it meets the fabric of your underwear you shiver for another reason. 

Everything feels syrupy slow after a moment with him, the twilight tinged with sweetness. You smooth down your wrinkled shirt before gently padding to the stained table where a few hand rolled cigarettes lay in wait. They aren't there for you, but it's hard to resist the only vice you have other than the man who lies asleep behind you.

You take one cigarette and the lighter you know he keeps in a kitchen drawer, then move back towards that open window. Pushing the makeshift curtain aside, you peer out the window in to the night as you make the flame to light the smoke that you've been craving since before he fucked you.

The little fire flickers, the old metal lighter sparking a last breath in a bloom of orange flame; a temptation, a thrill when your fingers catch the heat of it and it brings you back to a memory of the afternoon. The feeling when Joel had pressed a kiss to each of your fingertips one by one. Tenderly warm, turned to scorching ache soon after. He is good at that. Tenderness, care. He has a habit of showing you reverence in small, familiar ways, even before he begins pulling you apart to drink of your desire.

Intimacy.

It fills you with something dreadful, finds you and twists your stomach into knots.

A sigh of contentment fills you after your first slow inhale, exhale. Warmed, your body relaxes the way it does when he… the way it does when you feel safe and secure. Rare in this life.

Outside this apartment earth spins on its axis in a never ending cycle. It’s after curfew but as usual people scutter the streets, hide away from searching eyes. The patrol trucks pass, blinding brightness causing the rule-breakers to scurry back into the dark like rats. That’ll be you later, when you leave him. But for now you inhale, exhale and watch it all turn like clockwork, again and again until you’re stuck in a trance.

“Gonna have to start chargin’ you for those” Joel's deep voice grunts behind you, pulling you from the tangled reverie. 

You smile, a slow and slacken thing, but don’t say a word just yet. His breath is hot on your cooled skin, as he crowds you slowly, intention in every moment with him. Large, tempting hands rest on the sill on either side of you, and he rests his chin on your shoulder for a moment. His own treacly inhale rattles you as he brings his lips to your neck.

Your stomach ties itself up again, tugs at you with fear and more. A fever bustles to life in your core. A pathetic sound between a moan and a sob leaves you, as Joel presses himself against you. You push back.

“Don’t be greedy” He whispers in your ear, drips the words like honey. 

You hum as you raise your hand and he kisses your neck once more, too brief, before taking the burning cigarette from your fingers.

You have spent your years resisting, resisting, resisting. He’s the first to make your resolve begin its slow crumble. A motion is set through you as he stays crowding you, the strong rise and fall of his chest moving you with him. Eyes closed, part of you gives in.

Joel needs more. He always has. He burns and beckons, it has yet to ebb. He palls like the smoke that blows from his exhale. Your disquiet sets in with the moment of silence. This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

The open window sends a bloom of cold to your front, made worse by how warm he is behind you. In the streets below you two men stumble drunkenly, their too loud conversation turning to a blur of sound as it reaches up towards you. Joel moves to place the cigarette back between your lips, at the same time his other hand reaches down to cup your mound.

“Joel” You sigh around it as he nuzzles against your jaw. His fingers massage slow between your legs, panties sticky with the mixture of releases soaking through.

“Stay” he whispers against your skin. He presses more insistently, the heel of his hand grinding. 

“Not tonight” You take another drag. Your fingers shake.

Your words aren’t convincing. He hears it too.

“Can smoke as much as you want” He smirks as he pulls his head back to watch you react to the slip of his fingers inside your underwear. The slide of them through your heat, soaked the minute they touch you. You cough on the smoke as your breath hitches.

A blast of light on the street below makes your eyes snap open, at the same time his fingers press against your opening. Two push in easily. Thumb to your clit, lips right at your pulse point. You cry out softly.

The men on the cobbled street beneath the window try to make a run for it. Joel's teeth scrape your skin. He needs you in ways he hasn’t even begun to express. Your head dizzies with the saccharine swell in your core as he fucks you with his fingers, rubs circles on your sensitive nub. 

“Stay” Joel repeats. Still a question.

He’s drawing you open, making you spill. Another finger joins, thick and finding what you need. You have to stub the cigarette on the window sill before you drop it, and then you’re reaching back a tug on his hair, a grip on his shoulder that makes him grunt.

He needs you.

There’s a shout outside. Another and another. You can’t find the will to concentrate. He’s pushing against you, pressing digits inside of you, stroking your aching clit. He tugs your earlobe with his teeth as he grinds the hard length of himself against your ass.

Tight, tight knot in you. It’s unravelling. He’s become the only one who can unravel it. Your legs shake, he holds you together even as he pulls you apart.

Blood spills on the streets. Your body jerks taut as Joel mouths at your neck again. He wants you, he needs you. He needs this feeling even more than you do. Your cries drown out the outside world, as he needily gasps your name against your too-hot skin. The sudden gush from you soaks his hand, your underwear, drips down.

“Tonight” You go slack, fall against him as he soothes you with gentle words you can barely hear.

The world outside is not made for intimacy. 

Here in his world you allow yourself to breathe it in for a moment.

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedrostories

[cranberrv]

dating dallas winston headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n : aghhh first post on here!! lowk kind of nervous, but i thought this would be a strong way to start since everyone loves dal <3 i really hope you enjoy lovelies !! requests are open ! ( not proofread btw, ignore any mistakes <3 )

- dating dal is something special, because he doesn’t really do long-term

- so people know that you’re different, a girl he actually wants to keep in his life for a while

- it’s electric, to say the least. it’s hard to keep your hands off each other

- even in a non sexual manner, he finds himself always wanting to touch you in some way

- keep in mind he is much less than a gentleman, forgetting to open doors for you and not bringing you flowers on dates

- but he cares. and that’s something

- small gestures like a hand around your waist or always keeping an eye on you at parties. brushing down a fly away piece of your hair with his hand, making sure he’s on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, to keep you safe.

- that’s how you know he cares about you, not through grand, movie-like gestures

- sometimes he cares a bit too much, getting too overprotective

- some drunk guy talks to you at the bar? he mysteriously leaves with a black eye. and god forbid someone touches you in a manner he doesn’t approve of, someone might be ending up in the hospital.

- you get into arguments about that sort of thing, saying he’s being too dramatic or that you were capable of defending yourself.

- actually, you get into arguments about everything

- he’s usually the one to start them. if he’s in a bad mood, he will find anything to argue about. wether you teased him and he took offence, or you stole his jacket because it was chilly

- he’s defensive and cocky, and will not end an argument until he gets the last word in

- maybe muttering some rude name at you under his breath, or interrupting you until you finally give up

- you should not expect to win any arguments with him and his stubbornness

- he’s not gonna apologize either, unless it’s something really serious, like if he made you cry

- then he’ll ghost you for a few days, then come back and apologize

- other than that, most arguments either end in cuddling or him ghosting you for a week or so

- speaking of cuddling, he only really likes it whenever he’s tired or tipsy. he’ll lazily wrap his arms around you in bed, and keep you there. there’s no way you’re getting up

- rubbing your back with his hand, holding you to his chest, planting kisses on your head are normal occurrences during these peaceful moments

- cuddling him is about as rare as the northern lights, so you take advantage of it

- other than that, most nights end in make-out sessions

- sleepy kisses are his absolute favourite, his lips lazily caressing yours

- he’s always in control, don’t even try

- his big hand holding your head in place, and his other hand holding your waist

- he loves kissing you. everywhere he possibly can. head, lips, cheek, forehead, neck, shoulder, everywhere.

- he loves making out at the drive-in (or more cough cough), it’s so risky and he looooves PDA

- he often takes you to the drive-in or the dingo for dates, nothing fancy

- he always picks you up at your house, he doesn’t wanna meet you there in case you’re first and it looks like he’s late

- the torn leather of the passengers car seat becomes a common place for you to sit, he loves driving around with you

- your parents don’t trust him or his driving, based on the amount of times dates have been cut short because he’s been pulled over and taken to the police station for speeding

- so because of your parents aversion to him, whenever he wants to visit you, he just sneaks into your bedroom

- he thinks he’s being subtle with that, but yet your parents can always smell the cigarette smoke and leather the next day

- in conclusion, dating dallas can be very layered and complicated, but overall, very fun and exhilarating <3

#dally winston #the outsiders #dallas winston #dallas Winston x reader #dally winston fluff #dallas winston fluff #headcanon #imagine #dallas #outsiders #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dating dallas winston #dallas winston fanfic #matt dillon #80s movies

[clairdelunelove]

cigarettes and exchanges

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (smoking drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, smoking, suave!ghost

synopsis: ghost understands that his cigarette addiction is getting out of hand. but, in his defense, he's just never had a motive to quit! you offer to help and perhaps your new reward system will work for the lieutenant!

a.n. this could be read as a continuation to 'frosty kisses' or a standalone! and no, I typically don't like when men smoke but will I make an exception for ghost? yes. I hope you lovelies are doing well! let me know what you think about this headcanon I have for him heh! here's my kofi! <3

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-

-

been pondering about ghost’s inclination to smoke a cigarette whenever he’s stressed and how you might’ve found a better alternative– one that he craves even more.

-

another operation typically meant an increased likelihood of risking a multitude of unknowing, blind lives– an embittered fact that accompanies the line of duty he’s in. it’s a cruel contract that he’s familiar with yet the guilt never dissolves. in truth, it’s the torture of bad conscience that he can never shake off. he shoulders through resting recruits, footsteps heavy on the patchy floorboards while weaving clear of the crowd. some shift on their feet to avoid being pummeled by his powerful gait as he makes a beeline to the door. it’s assumed that such a strong reaction from the man would raise alarm but no one pays him any mind– aware of the lieutenant’s ache for solitude after the completion of a mission. whispers of his infamous smoke break settled amongst the lips of veteran recruits. and truthfully, it acts as a deliberate retreat that he wouldn’t commit to in the public eye. stepping outside and gazing into the abyss was an escape from the detached facade he gives into when he slips into a role of leadership. a position that’s necessary yet promises contempt– an emotion that not even he could run away from.  

ghost who perceives that his reliance on cigarettes is a bad habit he should break. knows that he could quit, in all honesty, since his self-discipline was so tenacious that many envied him for it. was never tempted with superficial vices that other task force members sought after. however, cigarettes are a psychological and chemical crutch that he’s been unwilling to drop. and he’s wise enough to realize that the chemicals do more harm than good to his body but it serves as a form of self-medication for him. helps him deal with wartime stress– the unyielding tension and restless nerves that disturbed his rare nights of sleep. reasons that his thoughts are clearer whenever he pulls out his lighter. he rationalizes that his incessant, troubled mind is finally hushed. lulled to rest. all he has to do is flip open that little white box and he’s instantly rewarded with the one predictable outcome in his life. 

ghost who wordlessly offers a spare cigarette to you when your figure slips beside him. his gloved fingers pinch at the small roll as he outstretches it towards you. you shake your head, muttering a gentle, “no, thank you though,” and he wittingly predicts the polite decline. there was nothing else you could’ve requested from him at this moment. food, entertainment, and rest were all found within the base– not outside. he rocks back on his heels. your tendency to keep him company is a habit you’re guilty of. not that he minds. recalls a similar scene that unfolded the night before the new year. and he’s aware that your lingering is intentional; as deliberate as the giggles that he manages to pull out of you during these softer times. the companionship sparks a fervor in him. one that he’s compelled to cultivate and cherish with you. 

ghost who rumbles, “your life expectancy just went way up then, pup,” due to your unwillingness to smoke. it’s a praise. don’t engage in the faults he has. you’re too pure for that. his heavy-lidded eyes spot the tinge of a smile dancing on your lips on behalf of the nickname. satisfaction burns within him. possessiveness claws at him. needs to get his mind off of the strong emotions. grasping at the lower edge of his balaclava, he tugs the darkened fabric up and neatly folds it over the slant of his nose. it’s not the first time he’s been partially unmasked with you. presumes that you wouldn’t actively question his identity and throw him into a crisis. yet, your curiosity magnifies to unveil the enigma that is simon ‘ghost’ riley, your lieutenant, who unknowingly causes your stomach to excitedly flip and churn with every interaction. 

ghost who turns away from you to place the cigarette in his mouth. it balances atop his full lips, a position so enticing that you’re willing to trade places with the inanimate object, and ultimately quell the yearning. his other hand fondles the box of cigarettes. “you can always replace the cigarettes with a new reward system, ya know,” you suggest. your voice is light, dipping on the last syllable, and he understands that you mean well. yet, he raises a dark eyebrow while flicking on his engraved lighter. connecting the cigarette to the end of it, there’s a satisfying burn before he deeply inhales. a cloud of misty smoke swirls around you even if he shifts away. the stench intermingling with your sweet fragrance and lingering. a sort of imprint that brands you as his. your gaze flits over to him to eagerly trace the fair, sharp jawline that’s visible without the guise, and you sputter, “like having something sweet. I heard people quit smoking by chewing bubblegum or having lollipops.”  

ghost who curiously prods, “somethin’ as sweet as you?” and the idle thumping in your chest accelerates into hammering when his gaze locks onto yours. his teasing is too sudden. you stiffen at the inviting drawl of his voice and the mannerism is one that he’s too familiar with. his eyes skim the soft features of your face, noting your skittish behavior, and deems it necessary to compose himself a bit. doesn’t wish to scare you off. but he’s pleasantly surprised to hear you ask, “you think I’m sweet, lieutenant?” his gloved fingers lift the cigarette to his lips again to take another long drag, “oh, I think we both know the answer to that, pup.” another mention of the nickname– another wave of heat rushing to your core. the statement throws you into a frenzy because his deep-set eyes seem more fitting for the bedroom and the revelation has you internally scolding yourself for the stray path your mind takes. 

ghost who’s unaware that it’s his turn to be as motionless as a marble statue when you edge closer. speculated that the rancid cigarette smoke would dampen that sugary aroma that invades his senses when you’re in his proximity. it doesn’t. just promotes the stark difference since it’s a specific scent he traces back to you. always causes his skin to tingle whenever he catches a whiff. a curse abruptly leaves his lips when he’s broken out of his reverie. your hand settles on the center of his chest, a tender touch that compels him to trail his gaze to your face. makes no effort to halt your movements. why should he when you’re the root of all his desires? immediately, his brain conjures up an arrogant remark; a natural reaction to his usual encounters. however, when he drags his eyes to yours and perceives that your usually bright eyes are hooded– he’s silent. 

ghost who allows you to push yourself up on your toes and pluck the cigarette from his mouth. doesn’t even manage to get another drag of it. never finds himself craving for it once it’s taken from him. instead, he’s fixed to the spot while you stare at his lips, revealing a small scar blending in with a muted shade of pink. your thumb gingerly brushes against the meager feature. a detail that is so ardently ghost. the rather concealed scar ignites something affectionate between the two of you. a shared secret that he’s let only you uncover. you slide your fingers underneath the sharp curve of his jaw and the gentle touch seizes his attention. pressing close to the juncture of his neck, you murmur, “let's exchange your cigarette for something sweeter, yeah?”   

ghost who stifles a groan of satisfaction when your glossy lips finally press against his cheek. warmth blossoms in his chest. fiery sparks, a discerned emotion that he thought he had lost, set him alight. for once, he’s rejoicing at the mere coincidence of being partially unmasked. and when he conceived that this overwhelming rush was fulfilled, you stunned him again by pressing another delicate kiss dangerously close to the corner of his lips– directly where his scar was. “a prize whenever you don’t smoke,” you propose while pulling away. he curses a resounding, “fuck.” it was dizzying. a singular glance was all you needed to discover that he’s completely flushed from your touches. his breathing is uneven too, teetering on what some would call desperate. drawn out and amplified. however, if that’s what he is– for you– then so be it. ghost was free-falling. plunging into another bad habit. a dependence that he’s afraid is more addicting and chronic than nicotine. you.  

ghost who hums deliciously low, “playing a dangerous game here.” his voice invokes a shiver within you. a sweltering heat crawls up your face, lingering at the uppermost part of your cheeks. the vowels dripped from his tongue like honeyed venom and you caught it. stored it, like it was fundamental to your existence. before you can withdraw, a strong hand encloses around your wrist. the touch is sure and solid– undoubtedly his. and when you peer at him, he’s admiring you through thick, pale lashes. his eyes are like silvered stone, cutting through all your defenses as his focus darts along your face. mapping– no– sketching out your softest features for the sake of his pleasure. the pleasure of admiring art. 

ghost who then raises the hand that’s gripping the box of cigarettes, notably to gain your attention, and tosses it behind his shoulder. the cardboard carton falls to the floor with a muffled thud. and in the span of a couple seconds, ghost completely eradicates his dependence on cigarettes. the promise of something sweeter causing him to reconsider and amend for all the time he could’ve spent smothered in your syrupy kisses. he leans to graze his lips against a sensitive spot in your neck, his nose nudging at the tantalizing crevice of skin. without the barrier of his mask, you’re hyper-aware of the greedy nip that ghost leaves and he’s awarded with a breathy exhale escaping your glossy lips. anticipates the way your knees buckle but he easily steadies you. he hums, dark and encouraging, at the receptive noise. fancies hearing it regularly. surely reserved just for him. you distinctly sense a corner of his lips tug upward once they’re on your neck again and he questions, “gonna give me ‘nother prize now, sweetheart?” 

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley drabble #ghost x you #ghost cod

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

untitled

I just had this vivid scene play out in my brain. Dropped to my knees in a local chain grocery store, had to pretend I was grabbin the bootleg brand chips from the bottom shelf. I'm definitely normal about this. Yea, I'm so abso-fucking-lutely normal about this.

So what if I'm ovulatin'? It ain't me sittin' here clenching my fuckin' thighs, no ma'am, nu-uh. Even my predictive text talks like Daryl now- okay, I may have a tiny little problem. I hope I never, never ever get the chance to look Norman Reedus in the eye.

4.5k words. VERY VERY NSFW. Just sweet and a little rough monkey lovin' where Daryl enjoys something for the simple sake of it feeling good. A little undercooked plot-wise but the smut has been grilled to a perfect medium-rare, slightly juicy, collard greens and mashed potatoes on the side with the mushroom sauce. Two packs of cigarettes later (he owes my lungs an apology),

Imagine you and Daryl going out on a - run, scouting mission, whatever - and hunkering down in a secure cabin for the night. It's summer, it's hot and stuffy inside, but luckily, the cabin has running water, even if it's ice-cold. So you wash up and apply some of the essential-oils-homemade-perfume-thing that someone at the community made for you.

You change into your PJs and come downstairs to amuse yourself til the sun sets completely.

He's smoking next to a crack in the boarded up windows and you, being on friendly terms, banter a bit and bum a cigarette off him. He doesn't mind when you use one of his knees to sit down. As you two joke, you ruffle his hair slightly, not missing the way his eyes narrow in pleasure.

That sparks a conversation about letting oneself to feel good things.

You say that it's different for women because they get judged for wanting to experience pleasure just for the sake of it and Daryl says he always thought it to be stupid. You say that he's not exactly the resident expert on that, which briefly makes his natural competitiveness overshadow his shyness and self-loathing.

Petulantly, he places your hand back in his hair and stresses the purring growl of pleasure as your scratch his scalp and let his moist tresses glide through tour fingers.

You laugh and say you're gonna braid his hair one day, in jest, and he growls back "yer pushin' yer luck, pretty girl," but his smile is hidden rather badly.

In revenge, you stomp out the cigarette and straddle his lap fully, attacking his head with a massage worthy of a spa parlour professional.

He grips your waist as his head hangs forward, a low rumble coming from his mouth as his nose comes that much closer to your neck.

Daryl takes a deep breath, and sensing you unbothered by it, says "ya smell good. like apple pie."

"Oh," he doesn't miss the slight hitch in your breath, "'member when I fixed up the 'lectric in number twelve? they paid me in some essential oil perfume they made. feels nice to... not smell death all day, every day. 's a nice change."

He nods, agreeing, remembering your strong feelings about doing some things just because they feel good. Not because it's useful or to survive, but just for a surge of happy hormones in your bloodstream.

Despite his best efforts to distract his body, one wiggle from you is all it takes for his excitement to be obvious. He freezes, but you adjust simply, politely, keeping your weight off his boner. Confused by your chill attitude, he lifts his head, forcing you to brush all of his hair out of his face.

Daryl feels vulnerable and exposed.

Your eyes slide down to his lips, once, twice, but you - just as stubborn as him - pick them back up. As he parts them to run the tip of his tongue over them in hopes of finding something to say, he notices it fully.

He notices the flush of your skin. His hands move on your waist, provoking another blink-and-youll-miss-it twitch of your fingertips and toes.

Gathering his ducks in a row, Daryl leans into you - your neck, not your lips, not yet - softly running the tip of his nose along your collarbone and up to your jaw.

"That feel good?" Voice gravelly low, it sends reverb through your chest.

"Yeah," you breathe quietly, your fingers in his hair shaking slightly. You lean more into him and that is all the encouragement he needs for the time being.

"Wanna make ya feel good," he admits, dry lips and scratchy stubble gliding along the length of your jaw. His breath is hot on the shell of your ear. "Can I do that, suga'-pie?"

"Mhm," you respond, his cheek now against yours - you rub into him gently, like a cat. The affectionate headbutt makes him chuckle quietly in his throat.

He continues nosing around your neck, feeling the muscles in your back and your thighs unclench one by one. You're practically on top of him, almost right there, over the throbbing erection in his pants, and he feels your control slip away bit by bit.

The flimsy wooden chair you two are sitting on creaks; Daryl doesn't place much trust in it. Planting his feet wide, securing his position, he inadvertently lands your cunt right over his cock. Both of you shudder and hiss at the contact.

The damn chair creaks again.

He curses under his breath, hands sliding down to your ass, hoisting you up and urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he stands up, sending the raggedy chair clattering to the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands grab at his shoulders, kneading into the meat there. A few steps later, both of you land on the couch heavily; it creaks, too, but your legs have room and your body can finally relax against Daryl as you stabilise yourself on the surface.

He's panting, open-mouthed, looking at you with those stormy blue eyes, searching for something in your earnest, open face.

The corners of your mouth tug up.

He runs his palm over your back, settling on your nape to pull you into him. Your mouths connect; the kiss is slow and unhurried as you take the time to explore each other's mouths. There is no need to rush, no risk of being caught or ambushed; it really feels good. Following someone's advice for once, Daryl lets himself become utterly lost in the sweet kiss.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly every now and then, tipping the cup of him ever-so-slightly for short groans to spill into the kiss. Sometimes, you let your hands traverse the hills of his shoulders, the plains of his chest, fingertips poking around the collar of it.

It's overstimulating but at the same time, it's not enough. To give you a hint, Daryl timidly strokes the single bare inch of skin between your shirt and your pants, feeling the goosebumps even through the thick, calloused skin of his working hands.

The way your hips respond: restless and fluid, pressing into him just that much closer, prompts him to slide his hands further under your shirt, mapping the bony ridges of your spine. The skin along it is sensitive on any mammal, that much he knows, so he expects the twitch, expects the breathy moan leaving your lips; he revels in it, the kiss growing humid and sloppy.

Your hands slip into his shirt, finally, your warm palms on his hot skin. He's burning up inside out and you're- you're diligently adding fuel and accelerant to the fire. Blunt nails scratching over his uneven skin, you snag his bottom lip on your teeth as moisture gathers in the corners of your mouths.

The need for oxygen is strong.

Daryl inhales deep as he rests his forehead against yours.

Both of you are panting. Necking like horny teenagers, not a care in the world, no worry for tomorrow; it's near impossible to focus on anything else but the pulsating need at the spots where your bodies are pressed together.

It's all too much but neither of you want it to stop.

"Holy shit," your awed mumble causes Daryl to smirk lightly; as you shift in place, he swears he can smell how wet you are. His jeans must've gotten ruined by now, if not by you then by the weeping of his own cock.

It feels almost regretful to proceed. This exact feeling, if someone could figure out how to bottle it, would have people sellin' their soul for it, Daryl is damn sure.

It's the moment before lightning spears open the stuffy air of a muggy, stormy day. The millisecond before a heavily pregnant cloud gives birth to a solid wall of ice-cold rain; the blink of skies as they generously cool the overheated earth, filling up its parched cracks with invigorating liquid.

"Fuck," Daryl groans, tossing his head back onto the backrest of the couch, watching you through lidded eyes, "whatchu doin' to me, girl?"

You offer him a shaky, sheepish grin before your lust takes over your senses, pushing you back up to him. Your mouth connects with his neck, suckling, licking, nipping at the caramel skin there.

Daryl tastes of cheap soap and clear sweat, that musky scent of gasoline and leather unfurling into notes of pinewood and smoke as you nose deeper; right next to his ear, tickled by his hair, he smells and tastes like the best dessert at the carnival inside the town fair.

A little greasy and drenched in spices. You can't get enough of him. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and lick.

Daryl groans. It's open-mouthed and loud. His hands grab your hips firmly, dragging you over the tent in his pants.

Both of you hiss at the friction.

Your knees wobble as your stance widens in an attempt to cover more surface are, to bring the feeling closer to your clit. There's at least four layers of fabric between your skin and his and it is something that is so sweetly, arduously annoying.

He pushes down again, harder this time, offering another delicious groan that you can't help but swirl in your mouth and recreate. The noise attracts his attention; Daryl watches you, watches your face, the flush on your chest, your heaving breasts. Like many men, he licks his lips utterly unintentionally when his eyes settle on your hard nipples.

Inwardly, you find enough clarity of mind to chuckle. Men and breasts nevel fail to amuse you when placed in close proximity. You push them outwards and his mouth is immediately right there, shirt and all, rolling a stiff nipple gently between his teeth.

The soft, damp cotton adds an edge to it; you feel your underwear slide over your cunt, the fabric absolutely saturated with your arousal.

Daryl's hands knead your ass as he takes in his fill of your breasts.

"That's, fuck," you pant, needing him to know, "that's really fuckin' good."

"Yeah?" He groans wetly before taking in as much of your breast as he can fit in your mouth; there's no finesse to it, just raw, unadulterated need.

"Uh-uh," you nod: his eagerness is what takes the cake.

Daryl tugs your shirt up; up and over your head and fuck knows where it flies, forgotten the moment his lips are back on one nipple, his fingers on the other. He rolls, he bites, he sucks.

Your breasts are wet with spit and sweat.

His breath ghosts over the damp areas, pebbling the tender bud to a state almost frigid.

You moan, loudly, wetly and openly. You gasp, you squirm, anything to quell the restlessness. It's like an army of fire ants trotting their primal, tribal dance under your skin, reducing you to a disoriented mess with a one-track mind. Your fingertips are pale where you hold onto Daryl in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

He's smirking when he surfaces up. There's spit glistening on his chin, his lips are puffy, the deepest, most delicious shade of maroon. It's obvious the state of your undress and the intensity of your want is echoed by him.

"Feel good?" He has the audacity! to ask.

"Yeah," your response is lackluster in words but the tone and the pleading expression on your face conveys it all: your desire, your desperation.

With you on top of him, the only relief to your aching cunt so far has been provided by his bulge rubbing against your clothed slit. It's not enough, it's not even nearly enough.

Daryl's biceps bulge as he effortlessly lifts you up, "c'mere," placing you back-to-his-chest.

Your legs fall open on your own accord, hanging limply over his muscular thighs. The meat of his cock digs into the cheeks of your ass; you feel it twitch along with you when Daryl's thick palm cups the mound of your pussy in a gesture both tender and possessive.

"Fuckin' shit," his low mumble travels down the shell of your ear, "this all fr'me, sugar?"

"Yes," you breathe out as he slides his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. There is no hiding it: your cunt had soaked right through your panties and the cotton of your pajama pants.

With some more maneouvering that comes unfairly easy to him (in your opinion), your pants join your t-shirt somewhere in the deepest pits of hell (a far corner of the room). The panties stay on and for that, you're grateful - a little - as the simplest, straightest of touches on the sensitive meat of your cunt feels like clear honey being poured over a-

Daryl taps two fingers at the top of your slit, right where you outer lips part to reveal your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" You yelp.

"So responsive," he mumbles. He sounds fascinated as he spreads his fingers, the rough tips gliding along the skin and the thick meat sliding over the soaked fabric. You quiver and he can't resist running his mouth, "that feel good?" His smirk is a little mocking, a little breathless.

Your resolve hops between strangling Daryl and begging him, the rabbit of your heart leaping in your chest, doing a binky when your lover shows you mercy by moving aside the sticky fabric covering your crotch. It immediately cools and you wince as it touches the hot flesh of your thigh.

Daryl's inhale is sharp, deep and loud as he dips the same two thick fingers inside your slit.

You're swollen and so wet, its practically dripping. Your clit twtiches under his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales his disbelief, "you like that, huh? This all for me?" The question proves to be rhetoric when the arm that holds you by your waist tightens on you and Daryl grinds his hips up into the small of your back.

The pitch of his voice drops impossibly low, "bet you taste sweet," as he scoops up some of the fluid, fingers snagging on the snug ring of your entrance, before bringing them up to his lips. He noisily sucks your cunt off his fingers, slurping, "fuck yes!"

Your eyes flutter shut as you cunt pitifully clenches around nothing, no doubt making an ever bigger mess between your legs and on his jeans. Your soft whine is an earnest compliment to the man doing his best to clean up your mess.

Daryl repeats the motion several times, scooping up the sticky droplets of your cunt juice, immediately sticking his fingers in his mouth.

You feel a little sad you can't see it, but your imagination supplements that which is lacking. You imagine his brow, furrowed; his eyes, closed; the tight 'o' of his lips around his fingers. Your cunt flexes again, spasming.

Daryl's reward for it is to circle your clit with a featherlight touch of a single finger. His breath is heavy as he reaches lower, same finger sliding to your entrance: not breaching it, just circling, like a predator circles its prey. He must have the patience of a saint.

You, however, do not. Your hips have a mind of their own as they arch into him, your cunt so empty, it practically hurts.

"Tell me whatcha need," Daryl orders, the low of his voice seasoned with a pinch of pride and a pinch of desperation, "tell me, sugar."

"Inside," you keen, out of your mind, "I want you. Inside." There's drool gathering in the corners of your mouth.

Daryl obliges, but not before lubricating the entirety of his thick finger by sliding it over the outside of your cunt, causing another loud keen to fall from your lips.

When he pushes in, you swear you could cry from the sheer relief of finally getting something for your hungry cunt to wrap around.

Experimentally, he drags his finger in and out, slowly, tense as he watches your reaction, before adding in another. To say they're big would be an understatement: long and thick and textured, it's everything your cunt has craved for the past some minutes. Daryl pumps them in and out as you pant through the new sensation, acutely aware of the loud squelches coming from your hole with every plunge.

Your swollen lips and throbbing walls attempt to keep him hostage with every pull.

Daryl curses, something completely unintelligible, his rough voice completely lost to lust. "Gonna cum for me, eh?" He breathes as the contractions of your cunt become quicker, more rhythmic.

Your neglected clit pulses, your nipples are stiff as rocks, your breathing is uneven and shallow. You couldn't find your voice even if you tried; you don't try at all, letting your body do the talking. You fuck back onto his fingers to the best of your limited ability to move as short, loud, primal noises choke their way up your throat.

The throb of his cock against the small of your back is what sends you over the edge.

Daryl's panting, whimpering himself at the unabashed state of your being; you don't think he realises it, even, his eyes set on your cunt gripping onto his fingers.

When it clenches for one last time, you arch, you paint the walls of the room with curses and whimpers that would make even a prostitute blush as more sweet slick drips out your spasming hole and onto his fingers. Your legs tremble as your entire body goes limp in Daryl's hold.

Soft lips rest on the crown of your head, hot, uneven puffs of air frizz your damp hair.

As your brain does a factory reset, you become hyperaware of the hard, thick flesh pressing into you; a stark realization comes over your being, washing your body in a new layer of shivers. Your cunt still tingles, still aches for more.

"Daryl," you mumble, feeling him go stiff and hot, his name like the sweetest honey on your lips, "I want you inside me."

He shudders, he pants, his cock twitches pitifully once again in his pants. The tight denim had provided some relief, enough to focus on you, enough to stretch the time a little bit more. But now, with your body warm and lax and fucked out of your skull, how could he resist?

He didn't want to resist. He wanted to feel good.

In your dazed state, it was easy for him to pick you up, bridal-style, and carry you towards the singular bedroom in the cabin. He grinned at the clumsy way you immediately reached out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair, placing sloppy kisses on the nearest inches of skin you could reach.

The whine you let out when dropped onto the cool comforter?

Daryl's cock twitched demandingly.

The man stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the view: you, blinking up at him, breasts moving with each shallow breath, feet on the comforer and legs bent at the knee, a hint of flushed, swollen pussy peeking out from the crooked gusset of your underwear.

This may not be heaven but it was as close to it as he'll ever get.

The buckle of his belt clinked, denim shuffled as it was left somewhere behind him- Daryl wasted no time dropping to his knees, using two strong hands to bring your cunt up and into his face. The force of his inhale made your sensitive pussy quiver, it was something that made him smile against the fabric of your panties as moved it aside once more - this time with his teeth.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelped as the broad, wide, flat expanse of Daryl's tongue licked messily up your cunt, hole-to-clit.

"Mmm," he groaned, "fuckin' candy apple pussy," taking another taste. And then another, and another until your skin was raw from the stubble of his beard and you were left in a shaking, whimpering, wet mess of a human. His face was drenched. "Messy girl," he chided in a soft mock as your cunt provided him with another gush of arousal, "ya like bein' messy for me, don't cha?"

"Uh-uh," you arched, your usually concise vernacular reduced to whimpers, groans and two-syllable words that barely made any sense to your own ears, much less anyone else's.

Daryl was like a wild animal, lapping up the liquid, uncaring of the mess he made of you and of his own face.

"Please," you fought with your tongue and finally, finally won, "I wanna- uhh," well, maybe not quite.

Momentarily, he withdrew, wiping the side of his face on the inside of your thigh, "you want what? Tell me."

In your state, he could have touched you anywhere and it would have reduced you to a mindless, blabbering mess. So you settled on the next best thing. Your hand, the one that was in his hair, tugged him up - or tried to.

Daryl's responding growl, the shift of his shoulders, the absence of a single hand on your thigh - you knew the tug had him palming himself through his boxers. Another, purposeful tug was given, another growl followed as he stood up.

You weakly pushed yourself up higher on the large bed.

In the dim twilight of the bedroom, Daryl stood, shirt soaked through and through with sweat; his chest heaved as damp strands of hair fell over his face. They were unable to conceal the glistening layer of you on his chin, neither they could hide the blown pupils of his stare. There was almost no blue visible in his eyes.

You licked your dry lips, forcing them to cooperate, "c'mere," your hands stretched out towards him.

Daryl crawled on the bed and over you, sitting between your spread legs. Obedient, he leaned into you, placing sloppy, damp kisses over your face as you wound your arms around his neck. The tent in his boxers hovered less than an inch away from your bare cunt.

"I need ya'," you breathed, tasting yourself as you licked into his mouth, hoping to convey with you body what you couldn't with your words.

"Ya sure, sugar?" Ever the gentleman, Daryl pressed his clothed cock over your bare cunt, ruining his underwear even further; his muscles flexed under your palms.

"Uh-uh," the heat, the feel of his thick cock backtracked any progress you'd made on getting your vocal cords and your brain cooperate. There was nothing but lust and saliva gathered in your mouth now, something that both of you shared during another slow, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed, your tongues ran over each other, all graceless and sloppy.

With one swift, ragged motion of his hand, Daryl shoved his boxers down and over his cock, freeing it from the tight confines; that action alone was enough for him to let out a grunt as the cool air hit his leaking, flushed tip.

The same tip that slapped against your clit, jerking your body and his.

"F-f-fuck," Daryl wheezed, fisting his cock at the base, running the tip slowly over your lips, your clit and down to your hole, "m'not gunna last for shit like this."

Just get inside me!!! You wanted to scream. Instead, you wiggled your hips, you squeezed his shoulders.

The fat head of his cock slipped in, slowly, steadily. More wet, sticky noises got lost in the growl coming from Daryl's gritted teeth.

Your cunt was sucking him in, all wet and hot and snug and constantly flexing, rippling as it adjusted to his size. The roll of your hips that followed was utterly unintentional, driven by the most primitive of instincts.

"Oh, sugar," Daryl grasped your hip tightly, holding it in place, "fuckin' shit. What're you doin' to me, woman?" His speech slurred.

All you could reply was a series of small breaths, 'ah-ah-ah's' with every inch of his cock sliding into you, until you felt his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

If your eyes weren't clenched shut, you would have seen the wild look in Daryl's eyes, the way they darted between the blissed-out look on your face and the root of his cock secured against the entrance of your cunt.

Slowly, he withdrew, hissing at the smooth pleasure of your wet pussy sliding over his cock, and then he slammed back in.

Your body curled, arched; a shriek left your lips at the sudden realization. You held onto him tightly, his shoulders, his arms; the sweet feel of his skin, slick with sweat, bombarded your senses, drowning you in that natural, masculine smell of him.

You babbled some nonsense, something about how good he felt, how he fit just right and so nicely, how he was so good to you-

"You're so good to me," Daryl objected, Daryl stated, "s'fuckin' sweet. My sweet, messy girl."

The words alone brought you closer to the edge as he hammered away inside your oversensitive cunt. In fairness, he could have flicked your clit just once, or even taken his mouth to one of your hard, throbbing nipples-

Daryl's need to feel you come, to clench and gush around his rock-hard cock was at the forefront of his mind, followed closely by awe at the way your body molded perfectly against his. The way your thighs quivered as they attempted to wrap themselves around his hips, the desperation in your grip on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed, teethering at the very edge of his orgasm, "come for me, pretty girl, c'mon," he urged, swallowing his own moans and gasps.

"I- uh," you, too were almost right there. The coil in your stomach at its most tense, it sent small tremors inside your cunt, shocks of pure, hot, liquid ecstasy-

That traveled down Daryl's cock. Like damn rings during a heated game of muckers, the spasms of your cunt collected at the root of his shaft, one on top of the other, until he could do nothing else but rut roughly, sloppily into the equally sloppy mess of your cunt.

He felt it. It began somewhere at the deepest part of you, squeezin' the head of his cock firmly and traveling all the way down his shaft, until each ring of pleasure popped, releasing his seed into you-

Throbbing, your cunt pushed and gushed, a flash of lightning zapping your clit as Daryl's pubic bone ground into it with force. A hoarse scream tore from your throat, your body curling inward with the force of your orgasm. Strong, heavy spasms of his cock shooting hot ropes into you lulled you into the aftershocks.

It made both of your bodies limp with exhaustion. The cord had snapped and tension finally leaked out, dissolving like smoke and fog into the open air.

Sweaty, sticky and hot, the two of you panted your relief onto each other's cheeks.

Your lips connected with the rough stubble on Daryl's. Hair hung over his face, obscuring your smile.

"Whatchu grinnin' at?"

Boy, did he sound fucked-out. All smoke and gravel and spice and everything nice.

"Feels good."

"Heh," he chuckled, the noise coming from somewhere deep within his chest, "sure does."

#WHEW I NEED TO BE NEUTERED Y'ALL #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #twd smut #fuckin' tiktok editors wirh their fuckin sexy edits #fuckin norman reedus with his stupid fuckin face #ALL OF YOU GET OUT #of my head #please.

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Salt N' Peppa

Older boyfriend Toji headcanons... MDNI

I can't stop thinking about him y'all, I'm ill. I need him soooo bad. Tojjjiiiiii ☹️😫

First, let's get physical.

Toji's previously dusky locks are outshined by the thin streaks of silver and gray that plague his scalp. His hair falls right atop his eyebrow, still thick and strong.

Lifting weights and resistance training has become too strenuous on his muscles and joints. He's found that going to the gym is no longer one of his top priorities, but when he does occasionally break out his (practically decaying) gym membership, he can only walk on the treadmill. Even running is too much impact on his aging knees.

Because of this, Toji's body has slowly but surely lost muscle definition. His previously defined abs are now sheltered by a thin layer of fat. His shoulders stay broad and proud, however his biceps are becoming softer as the days pass. He's gained a fair amount of weight, his strong frame become more and more huggable.

Toji's facial features are still sharp, stern. He doesn't shave as often as he used to, a black and gray stuble decorating his face every few days. His looks are just as striking as they were when he was young. Maybe even more now, with a strong distinction of a life wildly lived.

His voice has become slightly gravely and deeper as a result of the cigarettes he used to smoke like they were good for him.

Now let's get into it, shall we?

Older Toji... Much, much older than you. He's definitely matured in his later years... after wasting his twenties, thirties, and early forties, with random hook-ups and throw-away relationships, he's finally looking to settle down. And that's where you come in.

A cute, young, pretty little thing like you would never go for Toji, he was sure of it.

The second you walked into the dingy bar Toji frequented every Friday night, his heart began to beat a little faster. You settled in the stool next to him and offered him a brazen smile before turning your attention to the bartender.

What could he possibly have in common with some twenty-something year old living it up on a Friday night?

However, Toji never lost his charm. And if there's one thing he's mastered in his forty-five years on earth, it's talking sweet.

Conversation came natural. Your sarcastic, sour, but sweet demeanor pulled him into you more.

He was honestly a bit taken a back when you began flirting with him, leading him to ask you how old you were.

"Jesus Christ, sweets, I'm old enough to be your dad." Toji barks out a laugh, lifting his glass of whiskey up to meet his scarred lips.

"Perfect." You smirked back

And before you knew it, the evening was fading into the witching hours of the night.

"I had a great time talking to you. How 'bout I take you home... W'dya say, pretty girl?"

"No. But you can take my number."

Toji has DEFINITELY grown into old man habits. At 9:30 at night, he's already rubbing his tired eyes, stretching out his stiff back, and dropping his jaw to let out a silent yawn. Whenever he sneezes, he sneezes with a goddamn purpose. Every joint in his body cracks upon sudden movement.

Toji sleeps like a log too. It's almost impossible to get him up in the morning, and even more challenging when his heavy arm is pining your chest to the orthopedic mattress. He snores like someone is plugging his nose, deep, heavy vibrations singing from his chest.

Toji has served time in his past. The years he spent in prison are rarely spoken about, but they undoubtedly did a heavy number on him, the effect visible in his first and final mugshots. Ever since he's gotten out, deep bags hang from eyes, sometimes darker, sometimes imperceptible, but forever present.

But he's stable now. As stable as ever. He's found peace in his relationship with you and stability in his (legal) job. To his surprise, he enjoys the aspects of a quiet life. He relishes in the comfort of being tied down to the pretty girl that has his heart wrapped around her finger.

Toji loves to make dinner for you. Every evening, without a hitch, he's standing above the stove, stirring a pot or sautéing some unions.

One day, you catch him reading a 'Parents' magazine, cover to cover.

"I just don't remember subscribing for it, s'all. Wanted to see if the mailman made a mistake. Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. 'M too old for that shit."

" I'm not, though."

Really, Toji thinks he wouldn't be a good dad. His perception of himself is stuck on the reckless young man he used to be. But, he would love to have a little nugget to care for, and he knows you'd make the perfect little mommy.

Toji was quick to make you his. After the third date he took you on, he bought an engagement ring. A year later, you had him down on one (very sore) knee. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wanted you.

Sex with Toji is incredible, too... especially when his calf isn't cramping up and you two have to pause for a breather.

Toji has never really had an emotional connection with any of the women he slept with in his past. But you are so special. He can feel the burning passion every time he bullies his thick cock into your little cunt, pushing through your tight walls until your lower half is flush against his thick happy trail and dark bush of pubic hair.

Toji always holds you close to his less-defined chest after sex, mumbling sweet nothings to you while he rubs the soft skin of your back, a stark contrast to his rough, calloused and aged hands.

"I'm so lucky to have you. My pretty girl... Luckiest bastard in the whole world."

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

#jjk x reader #age difference #size difference #jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #fem reader #toji x reader #toji smut #dilf toji #toji headcanons #toji zenin #toji x you

[thef1diary]

Don’t Go | C. Sainz

Summary: You and Carlos broke up over a month ago, however he doesn't want it to stay that way.

Warnings: angst, toxic relationship if you squint

word count: 2.2k

pairing: carlos x fem!reader

"You know what, that's it. We're done!" You yelled at your boyfriend who was blatantly ignoring you while getting dressed for a work event. You didn't even wait for a response from him, mainly because you knew you weren't going to get one. You weren't the type of person to create a scene but your anger got to you. Slamming the door to your shared apartment, you kept telling yourself that you'll be fine without him while tears streamed down you cheeks.

One month later:

It turned out that you were fine without him, mainly because you haven't seen him yet. Carlos had a triple header coming up when you broke up with him, so you knew that he would be too busy anyways which meant you weren't expecting a text or phone call after your dramatic—but much needed—exit from his apartment.

It obviously hurt to leave him, after all you were together for four years. But what hurt more was that he didn't even care that you left. Despite how hectic race weekends could be, you thought that you had at least some sort of importance in his life to at least deserve a phone call.

During that one month, you thought about the four years you spent together and wondered where it went wrong. Carlos was an amazing, loving boyfriend. You understood each other, respected each other, and you truly loved him.

There were moments when he would be extremely stressed out due to his racing results and you completely understood that. The thing was, he would come to you to talk about it all. He would lay his head against your chest and you would play with his hair while he was would tell you everything.

However, the Carlos you knew then was nothing like the one you broke up with. He was distant, cold, and made you feel like you didn't mean anything to him.

You were currently out with your friend at a club because she made it her mission to help you move on. Obviously that meant finding someone else for a night to help you forget about everything but you didn't want that. In fact, you two had been out for a few hours now but you were still completely sober. You were moving on. Not forgetting about it, but accepting the truth. Or at least you thought you were.

You watched as your friend was dancing freely, without a care in the world and you wished that you could be like her. The temptation of wanting to drink was strong, but you restrained yourself because you didn't want to wake up with a hangover. Plus, drinking wasn't your thing. What you needed right now was a cigarette and a lighter, both of the things already in your pocket.

You silently communicated with your friend when she looked at you, telling her that you are going to step out for a moment. You stood in the alleyway where you saw two people making out further away. Turning away from them, you lit a cigarette. Sure this habit was bad, but it could be a lot worse. You weren't a heavy smoker but you always had a pack on you, just in case.

The air was chilly which made the smoke you inhaled feel a lot better than it usually would. The warmth radiating through your body was inviting.

You heard the back door open but didn't face it, thinking the couple went back in. You smelt his cologne before you saw him, and instantly the memories rushed back. Although, you doubted that he knew it was you.

You were right, because he tapped your shoulder and asked for a cigarette. When you turned to face him, he looked quite surprised. He looked good, of course he did, there were rarely any bad days for him. His hair was slightly messy due to the wind outside, and his outfit was quite casual.

He said your name to bring back your attention towards him. You passed him the pack and he commented, "thought you stopped."

"I did." You simply said, implying that you started again after your breakup. You'd still carry a pack on you even though you never touched it, but now things were different.

He nodded, standing beside you while you puffed out smoke. "Thought you didn't smoke." You commented to which he replied, "I didn't."

You could read the implication as well, but you didn't think that he'd ever indulge in this bad habit. He would always tell you to stop, joking around that he will live longer than you.

You didn't like this silence, nor did you want to talk to him. You initially thought that he'd say something, anything. But this silence was deafening.

Throwing the remnants of the cigarette, you turned around to leave but you remembered something so you stopped, "I still have to pick up my stuff, text me a time you're free so I can come by."

The night that you left in anger, you didn't take your keys belonging to your shared apartment, which meant you had to wait for him to be home so you could pick up your stuff.

——

He followed through on your request and texted you a few hours after your last conversation, telling you to come by whenever because he'd be home for the week.

So here you were, standing in front of the main door to the apartment you once called yours. He opened it after a few knocks, and you had to take a deep breath before you entered. It's finally time to get through this, no matter how painful it may be.

The apartment was exactly the same as you left it, if not messier. "Sorry, I didn't really have the time to clean up." He told you, but you shrugged, "it's okay. I'm not going to be here for too long."

There was a awkward tension between you two, and you decided to act civilized, the least you could do to make your time spent here easier. "How was Spain?" You asked, knowing that his home race was the most recent one. You've always attended his home race, so it felt weird that you weren't there this time.

"It was good, got second place." He said, and you didn't have the guts to tell him that you watched the race, seeing him celebrate with his teammate who won. You also saw the trophy that was undoubtedly new, sitting on the shelf among his others.

If you two were together, you'd surely celebrate his race with other friends and family and even more when you two would've gotten home that night. But that's something that will never happen now.

Walking towards your bedroom, the same one you and Carlos shared, you started gathering your things. Either Carlos didn't want to remove your things or he didn't have the time to do so. For your peace of mind, you are hoping the second reason is true.

You had brought an empty suitcase with you, and while you were filling it up with your clothes, his voice made you pause, "don't go." He was leaning against the doorframe, watching you pack up all your stuff and then planning on leaving this apartment without any trace of your relationship behind.

"You should've said that a month ago," you were quick to respond without even looking up at him. Which is why you didn't see him walking closer and crouching down. He held your hand to stop you from folding your clothes, making you look at him.

"I should've said a lot more a month ago, but is too late to say it now?" He asked as he moved his hand up, placing it on your cheek.

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his eyes. Mainly because it reminded you of the good times of your relationship, before everything went wrong.

Carlos took your lack of response to continue, "you know, I miss you" those words broke you out of your trance, "I miss the old you" you responded, making him realize the consequences to his actions.

You moved his hand away, returning back to the task at hand. "Can we please talk about this?" He asked, making you sigh. "I'm sorry Carlos, I don't think that's a good idea." You shook your head.

"Why not? It was a bit extreme no, you just walked out on me."

"Like I said, it's been a month. If you wanted to stop me or talk about it then you should've called me or at least make the effort to contact me. But you didn't, and that's exactly why we're over now." You tried to keep yourself in control, watching your tone. You didn't want to leave this apartment while arguing again.

"I was busy with the races you know that-" he tried to reason but you were quick to stop him. "And that's the problem Carlos, you were busy. You've gotten so busy nowadays that I barely see you. There have been times where I had to wait weeks before I could see you again, and even then all you're talking about is the next upcoming race."

He opened his mouth to say something but you didn't let him and continued, "I get it, it's your career, it's something you've wanted since you were a child. But if your career is that important for you that you can't even spend any time with me, then there's no point of a relationship."  You concluded.

You could see when realization hit him, knowing that things won't be the same anymore. You would feel bad but he wasn't there to console you when you felt like that either. You almost scoffed at the idea of him thinking that everything between you could work out.

"You're really choosing to throw away the four years we spent together?"

"I really didn't want to. Trust me, I really, really didn't want this. But I am tired of being the only one holding our relationship together. In the past year, I have seen no efforts from your side." You were brutally honest with him, and despite his expressions saying otherwise, he needed to hear this.

He held your hands again, "don't do this."

"Carlos, why don't you understand. For lack of better words, I'm freeing you from this. You don't have to worry about calling, texting, or even seeing me." The words you were saying out loud were tearing your heart apart and you had no doubt that if Carlos still loves you, he'd feel the same.

"If you think you're not gonna see me or hear from me again, you're wrong. You will see me, and you will damn well hear from me again." Carlos' mood shifted.

"No-" you began but he cut you off. "You've said your part, now hear me out. If you think I stopped loving you for even a moment, you're wrong. And I know you still love me too. If you didn't, you would completely ignore me and not try to convince me why our break up is a good idea. Although it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself rather than me."

You opened your mouth but no words came out because you were speechless. "You think I didn't have a single thought about you while I was away? You're wrong. You're the only person I thought about, you occupied my mind every second of every day for the entire month."

"If you really want to try this whole breakup thing out, sure go ahead. Walk out of my life like you did a month ago, but this time I am not letting you go. If you think you are not going to see any effort from me, again sorry but you're wrong."

"I am so sorry for everything I've done or haven't done for the past year and truly I have no excuse for my actions. But you, darling, are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

You know what Carlos expects you to say. He wants you to forget about it all and go back to how you two were before. But at the same time, he is challenging you to leave, and you never backed down from a challenge before and you won't start now. As much as you love him, you need actions not words.

"You claim to love me right?" You ask and he nods.

You zip up your suitcase and stand up. "I am going to leave, and you will let me. You say that you'll prove it to me, so until I don't see you taking actions for your words, I am not coming back."

He still looks taken aback, clearly not expecting you to do this. But he settles his emotions and nods, "you can leave, but I'm not letting you go."

Carlos is also the type to accept the challenge, and he will do anything to earn your love again. After all, he never wanted to break up, in fact, he wanted to make you his wife. So if he has to work for that, he will.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1blr #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz angst #thef1diary fic

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 11)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 4495

A/N: Yes I did drop off the face of the earth for a bit but can I make it up to you with an extra long chapter?

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 11, Next Chapter

Your fight was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, and that's when you received an owl from him which was rare during dinner. He didn't pay you any attention, so you decided to take the letter to the lake and read it by yourself so no one could interrupt you and he couldn't watch or analyse you open it. You sat down by the water and opened it.

"My dearest, Y/N,

Oh how I've fucked up, in life constantly but with you in more ways than one. I don't know how to express my words in person I've never been good at words when it came to the important things like people. This is version five of this letter.

I traveled home after Monday. I couldn't bare to look at that desk, I couldn't go to Sirius as his home will forever smell like the first time I kissed you. When I arrived I found your letters, they made me realise you left to protect us from ending up in this very situation, I thought it was from fear of getting told off for being home late but really you knew that Percy was looking for clues. Unfortunately his letter found me first and convinced me to push you away, that I was risking too much by risking your schooling, I don't care about my career, what's life if you only live for a job but I don't want to mess up your future. I take my job very seriously but life is  more important.

You were right when you said I'm scared of having something good, however you were wrong when you said you were convenient. You're far from it. I might be lonely but that's not why I'm drawn to you, I'm drawn to your wit, I'm drawn to your smile and I'm drawn to your world. If we could spend forever sitting on my sofa listening to music and talking I would die a happy man.

I don't know what my feelings for you are but they are strong and they scare me, you're much more important to me than anyone else I know and I fear to admit it. New Year's Eve I messed up, if we were ever going to kiss I wanted it to be after a date where I show you how you're meant to be loved and offer you the world not drunk on the steps of my best friends house.

I don't know how you feel about me and if I hurt you too much, if that's the case I am terribly sorry I wish I could make it right. If an inch of you still thinks I'm a decent man I have two offers for you.

A. If you want to remain friends and go back to last year's rules "no dear, no alcohol and no kissing" meet me tomorrow evening in my office for tea and tunes, or let me know in your own way

B: If you are up for an adventure my dear and willing to see what happens if we risk it and you still feel any attraction after my poor behaviour: Meet me tomorrow morning at 9am in Hogsmeade, next to the three broomsticks.

C: if you simply hate me like you said (at least 4 times using my full name I'm glad you don't know my middle name) all I ask is show up to my lessons, we can arrange another teacher to take over you 1-on-1 schooling but please show up. I promise to pretend I don't think you're the most amazing witch and woman I've ever met. Please don't let me ruin your exams or future.

Yours, Remus John Lupin.

P.S. To answer the question in your original letters from the 1st of January keep my sweater, it will simply be a painful memory if you choose C and I like the way it looks on you if you choose B ."

You felt a mixture of excitement and relief with his letter, it felt like everything has magically explained itself. Remus was an anxious writer with a tendency to sabotage his own happiness but he was trying. He was trying for you.

The next morning you woke up early to get ready to see Remus, you didn't know what to expect but you were excited. You arrived in Hogsmeade early knowing Remus as someone extremely punctual you were shocked to find Remus wasn't there. You waited until 9:05 but nothing, so you began to walk back at towards the castle. "Wait!" Remus said and you turned around to see him holding two cups of coffee, one of which had obviously slightly spilled on him. "It's with milk!" He said holding a coffee forward towards you.

"Thank you." You said grabbing it.

"I'm glad you came." He said softly.

"I'm glad you sent that letter." You replied. "You have coffee on your sweater." You pointed out reaching in your pocket for a tissue.

"I didn't think through apparating with two cups of coffee.' He admitted with a shy smile as you dabbed his jumper dry. "Thank you dear." He continued softly.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Where?"

"London, grab my hand and hold your coffee tight." He said reaching out a hand and you took hold of it and you appeared in Holborn, London.

"I thought that wasn't possible in Hogwarts." You admitted.

"That's why we met in Hogsmeade dear, sorry about being late, there was a queue." He admitted showing you the coffee.

"I thought you may have changed your mind." You admitted.

"I was scared you wouldn't come." He admitted.

"Liar you got two cups of coffee." You pointed out.

"I had a feeling you'd show up, now dear, see today as my way of apologising to you. I have a small plan but if you want to do anything just tell me." He said and at that moment you turned the corner to the British Museum. "Have you been here before?" He asked.

"Maybe once or twice as a kid."

"Okay but have you ever had a magic tour of this place?" He questioned and you shook your head. "Great." Remus led you into the British museum, he looked quite excited and more young now than ever. "Now not everyone knows that many treasures in this building are actually artefacts from great magicians."

"So they stole from wizards too?" You asked and Remus laughed.

"They sure did, now not many people know how some of these great people used magic to help muggles and how some of this stuff is either cursed or enchanted." Remus continued as you walked through the beautiful foyer.

"But I'm sure you do." You said teasing him and he nodded.

"I'm not just a pretty face, unlike you I spent a lot of time in libraries."

"Are you saying I don't study? I spend a lot of time in my professors office."

"You spend a lot of time listening to music and distracting me while I try to mark work, dear." He shot back and you laughed. "Now as I was saying, I may not be a rich man or have much to offer but I have a lot of knowledge."

"You should be a teacher." You said with a wink.

"You should be a comedian. Now enough talking watch this." He said and then one of the Egyptian statues moved and stood up.

"Holy shit, are you allowed to do that?" You asked looking around.

"Don't worry no one will notice." He said

"What was that?" You asked.

"It's a Pharos tomb guard, they're enchanted to stand when an attacker approaches, they have a lot of ancient magic in here."

"So why didn't they do that when they were removed from the tomb?" You asked as you and Remus continued to walk and look at the different statues.

"They did, they did for a very long time, however when dark wizards realised there's money in helping archaeologists they helped lift curses or limit enchanted objects. Those guards were stopped from being the soldiers they were, the only thing left is the command to stand when you summon them." Remus explained, you were impressed by his knowledge. You walked through  the ancient Egyptian part for another few minutes before Remus took hold of your hand and hurried you to the Ancient Greek part. "This bits my favourite, sorry is it okay if I do that?" He asked gesturing to your hand.

"It's encouraged." You blushed.

"Tell me when I cross a line Y/N, we still need to talk about us but first I want to hold my part of the deal, showing you who I actually am."

"And who are you profesor?"

"A lonely bookworm with a furry problem and a teaching job to pay the bills."

"Don't forget the cottage." You winked making him laugh.

"Now these are the Parthenon marbles, the Parthenon was being used as a base to store ammunition by the Ottomans and some idiot messed up and blew up the whole thing."

"Some idiot is that the technical term profesor?" You poked him in the arm and he rolled his eyes. You found him very attractive when he was more casually dressed, with his jacket drooped over his arms and a warm sweater on.

"It is now." He replied. "Long story short some guy named Lord Elgin went to Greece and asked the Ottomans can I have this? And they said sure and he took it, as lords usually do. It's missing a lot of parts as they're back where they belong but a small part of me feels lucky to have them here as they tell a story. You see if you come over here you'll see the Centaur." He led you over to the far wall. "He tells a story of the battle between Centaurs and Lapiths at the marriage feast of Peirithoos. And if you do this even with it's missing parts you get to watch it." He lifted his wand and the marble moved. It began plaything the story throughout the panels as if they were alive just like the paintings in Hogwarts. "And if you think that is cool look behind you." You turned around and the main sculptures were all moving, they were missing parts but they felt human.

"That's incredible, show me more." You expressed with a big smile and Remus couldn't help but smile back. "Come on." He said putting one arm around you while his other arm still had his jacket drooped over it. And like that, he led you through the museum holding your waist and making your heart flutter at his actions and brain amazed at the world of knowledge he was sharing with you.

It was one of the few times you saw Remus truly happy as he immersed himself in history. It was beautiful to see him care free not putting himself down, not talking about his condition just being himself. As you walked out the museum hours later he still had a hand around your waist. "Now dear what would you like to do?"

"Should we go get some food?"

"What a wonderful idea, there's a great pub not too far from here, only thing I need to get some cash out as I'm low on muggle money." He explained.

"I can pay."

"I'm sure you can but you won't I'm taking you out on a date it's my treat." He said as he rushed in front of you to the cash machine. "Okay" he said looking at it. "Okay, okay." He continued looking for where to insert his card. "Just a moment." He said after inserting it and just starring at all the options on the screen. "Merlin." He whispered quietly while pressing random buttons.

"You do know how to use it?" You asked suggestively.

"Of course I do." He said but he was obviously struggling.

"Here let me help you." You stood alongside him pressing the buttons for him. "How much do you want to withdraw?"

"£20?" He said hesitantly.

"£20?" You confirmed.

"£50."

"£50 are you sure?" You asked in disbelief.

"I'm not good with this, I haven't been in a muggle pub in forever I don't know the prices these days. I'm sorry, get however much you think it'll cost for us to have food. This is so embarrassing." He admitted.

"£50 it is, Remus the muggle world is my world it's okay to ask for help, I literally didn't know you could aparate in Hogsmeade." You calmed him while you finished the transaction.

"Yeah that was silly, everyone knows-"

"You don't know how to use a cash machine Remus!" You interrupted.

"I'll shut up. Now off to the pub, thank you for your help." He took your hand and lead the way. The pub was quite busy but you expected it as it was lunchtime on a Saturday. It was nice to sit opposite Remus having a meal, flirting, chatting and being yourselves. You didn't feel anxious like you did sometimes on dates, you felt like you were hanging out with a friend that you had a crush on, he would make you blush a lot with his words but he was also clumsy and stumbled a lot, something you never saw in him at Hogwarts. He ordered fish and chips and knocked over the sauces with his hand, when he went to pick them up, he hit his head on the edge of the table, you found it all cute and amusing but he was obviously embarrassed. "Am I making you slowly think I'm an idiot?" He asked after the incident and you simply replied with. "Only a little bit, makes you less intimidating."

"Am I intimidating?" He asked.

"Not at all." You said and he shook his head while laughing. After you ate you decided to take a walk along the river at first you began to talk about meaningless stuff like how you missed the Christmas lights or how Remus enjoyed the fact you can find oyster shells and old pipes on the rivers edge from the Victorian era. However the conversation changed when Remus asked. "What do you see us as?"

"I don't know." You admitted a bit of anxiety started to grow inside you.

"I don't know either, but I think we need to set some ground rules."

"What do you suggest?"

"Defining what's okay, like for example I think if either of us is developing strong feelings like love for the other we should cut it off as we don't want to hurt each other and with our current position we can't be in a relationship and be student and teacher." He said his eyes moving all over the place but avoiding you and he used his hands to emphasise what he was saying.

"How come?"

"Well for starters we can't do this all the time, if I was in love I would like to offer that person all my love, I would like to take them on dates, I would like to walk around and hold their hand, I would like to bring them to see my friends and so on... we can't do that, it will hurt to love someone but not be able to live in public, I don't want to risk the pain for either of us." He explained and you nodded.

"So what can we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to continue to relax in your office with you." You began and he nodded. "I want to be able to kiss you, I want to be myself with you, I want to smoke on the bridge with you and when no one is watching I want to be held by you."

"And we can do that we can just not love each other, and give each other a relationship that's the line."

"So we can see other people?" You questioned him and he looked puzzled.

"I would prefer not, I can't stop you but I may not feel comfortable with sleeping with you if you're kissing other men." He admitted.

"I'd prefer if you weren't kissing anyone else either... Can we do this sometimes?"

"Of course dear, however not as much as either of us would like to, maybe once a month or every so often not to raise suspicions."

"But I can come see you in your office every night?"

"My door is always open for you dear."

"Can I sleep in your office?"

"Where on the desk?" He remarked in a snarky way.

"Is that where you want to fuck me?" You matched his energy y.

"Well it's not for sleeping." He winked and the grabbed your hand."Enough serious conversations, let's just live a little before we have to worry about rules. Today, exists in a world of its own, what do you want to do?" He asked with a cheery tone.

"I mean checking out that desk sounds fun but maybe before that we should enjoy London."

"I'm already enjoying it right here." Remus said stopping and pulling you in closer, putting his arms around your waist. "I think I like London." He said looking at your lips.

"Oh really." You stood on your toes to get closer to him and he leaned down and kissed you lightly.

"Alright let's go I have an idea." He said once again grabbing your hand and leading the way. You walked into a small cosy record shop. You both started looking through the shelves showing each other records you thought the other would life and either replying with a "yes" or "not my style" once the yes like became tall enough you walked over to the record played and started listening to them, there was only one pair of headphones so you had to share, bringing in your heads close as you listened to the music. "Oh listen to that trumpet." You said listening to a Chet Baker vinyl. "Do you like it?"  Remus asked and you nodded. "This is one of my favourite songs, the earnest vocals, I fall in love too terribly fast, for it to ever last..." you began to sing along to the song and Remus smiled warmly at you, he couldn't help but kiss you on the cheek. "Let's buy it." He said.

"What Remus it's quite expensive?"

"That doesn't matter today dear." He said putting it back in the vinyl sleeve and taking it to the till. "Besides there's nothing more I want to do than lay in bed with you and listen to this here vinyl." He said while paying for the vinyl, he thanked the cashier a grumpy old man who didn't seem to care about your conversation. You continued to walk through London for a bit longer but it started to get colder and you both decided it was time to head home. "Okay, we need to aparate back separately as it may be busy with people at this time." He began. "You'll go first and I'll follow, I don't want to leave you alone back here, I'm sure you'll be okay but I don't want the stress." You nodded in reply. "Okay dear, once you are back it would be a good idea for you to go to your dorm or walk around somewhere far from my office, and in about thirty minutes from now come to my office and we can continue this evening." You nodded in reply and that's when he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you soon my dear." He said and you left. As you walked back to Hogwarts all the emotions rushed in, the excitement, the love you felt but shouldn't, the confusion from the conversation about not falling in love. You felt very overwhelmed but you also felt so many positive emotions that you couldn't wait to go visit Remus in his office. It was weird not being able to travel back with him after you were able to spent so long acting like a couple but it made sense you just wished it could be different. You walked back to your dorm room where Percy was sitting on the chair. "Hi Y/N." He said as he saw you coming in, you didn't reply. "Still giving me the silent treatment? You know I haven't done anything wrong all I wanted to do is spend time with my friend." He continued as you walked away.

"Our dear brother causing you trouble?" Fred asked as you walked past him.

"I'm going to hex him." You replied as your turned to the girls chambers.

"Be our guest." George said before you went into your chambers. It was good that Percy saw you, helps avoid his suspicions. You waited the thirty minutes before heading straight to Lupins office, just in case you checked if Percy followed you but he didn't so you were in the clear to go meet Remus. You walked through the corridors with a hint of excitement as you approached his office, you knocked on the door and Remus opened it almost immediately. "Hey you." He said with a smile letting you in and checking behind you if anyone was in the corridor, he closed the door and turned the lock before leading the way upstairs to his office where he also locked the door after you came in. "Hungry?" He asked as you sat down on the sofa.

"More peckish."

"Perfect, I have some cheeses here and some bread."

"How fancy." You pointed out looking at the small charcuterie board he prepared.

"Only the best for you." He said as he sat down beside you, a record he already had playing way playing in the background as you both sat their indulging into the different flavours. "Thank you for joining me today." Remus suddenly changed the subject.

"Thank you for showing me everything, and for the food and the vinyls, everything." You said a bit overwhelmed by his generosity.

"Come here." He gestured for you to come in closer, you lay on the sofa with your head on his crotch and he stroked your head lovingly, slowly playing with you hair. "I love how soft you hair is." He pointed out as he continued to stoke your hair. A few minutes later the vinyl playing finished and Remus gestured for you to sit up so he could change the music. "How about we try this one out dear." He said pulling out the new Chet Baker vinyl and your heart warmed. "Anything to drink? I've got a nice bottle of wine I've been thinking about opening."

"That sounds great."

"The music or the wine?" He clarified.

"Both."

"White or red dear?" He asked while opening a cabinet.

"What do you prefer? Maybe red?"

"Red it is." He pulled the bottle out and began to open it placing two glasses on the table in front of you and filling them up. "To wonderful day." He said raising his glass as he sat down. You rested your head against his shoulder as you sat in comfortable silence.

"You know moony, I prefer this when we're allowed to cuddle on the sofa and kiss sometimes." You broke the silence.

"Me too dear." He bought his hand up to your cheek and pecked your lips slightly before going back to the resting position. "I craved this every time you sat here and I sat at my desk aching to kiss you." He admitted. This was peace, you were in your safe place.

"Are you aching to kiss me now?" You asked quietly.

"Always." He whispered into your ear placing his glass down on the small table in front of you and then taking yours to do the same for you. He leaned in to kiss you, as the kiss depended you ended up laying on the sofa. He was above you his lips and your lips colliding as you both struggled to catch a breath. You felt him getting hard as he slowly moved his body up and down over you, you reached up for his shirt unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. "You're not wasting any time." He said between the kisses. His arms moved under your ass and he scooped you up in one movement so you were now straddling him, he pulled your shirt up and unclasped your bra as you began to grind on him making him harder and harder. He pulled away from your lips to suck on your nipples, the sensation made you moan in reply he grabbed your hair and pulled it down roughly making your head tilt back as he continued to worship your body. "Let's take this somewhere more comfortable." He said lifting you up and carrying you.

"You don't want to do it on your sofa?" You asked curiously.

"Oh I do, and my desk and every wall however today I will show you how you're meant to be loved not fucked." He said while pushing the door to his bedroom open and throwing you down on his bed. He unbuttoned your trousers and pulled them off along with your underwear, getting down on his knees and kissing your legs all the way up to your pussy. His hand reached up to your breasts where he started massaging them as his tongue flicked your clit making you moan. As he continued this movement with his tongue he moved his hand to slowly slip his fingers inside you pulling in and out while starting to alternate between sucking and licking. "Merlin you're either so wet or I'm drooling like a dog over how good you taste." He went straight back in and continued until you started begging for him as you felt yourself getting close. "Beg for me again." He growled as he moved to be just above you.

"Please." You barely whispered and he smashed his lips into yours, unbuckling his own trousers and taking them off while still keeping his lips on yours. You felt him thrust inside you leaving time for you to adjust, even though you remembered his size it shocked you how deep he filled you. "Are you okay dear?" He whispered checking in on you. "Mmhm." You confirm and he picked up the speed. He kissed you while going faster and started to slowly move his kisses down to your neck and breasts. You felt yourself get close as he ramped up the speed. "Cum for me dear, I want you to feel how good I make you feel." He said kissing his breath a bit. You couldn't hold it any longer and came which made him cum in you, you felt the warmth inside you as he slowed his pace and rested more of his body weight while moaning into your lips. He kissed you deeply once more before pulling out and laying down beside you. You were both panting as you lay there, Remus moved the covers and covered both of your bodies and kissed your forehead. "Good night dear." He whispered and you placed your head on his chest hugging him as his arm was around you. "Good night, Moony."

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #the marauders #sirius orion black

[24hlevi]

— the bet

natalie scatorccio (yellowjackets) x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: being enemies with nat was eventful, to say the least. until a bet is made that you'll fall for nat by the time states come around. will that happen? or will you two remain enemies?

warnings: language, light nsfw, drug usage (marijuana)

wc: 3.5 k

my first yjs fic please don't kill me i lowkey hate this but here we go

natalie scatorccio was the type of girl you never imagined yourself to even speak to. not because she was a “burnout”, or because she was drunk or high the majority of the time, but because of the way you two were polar opposites. she was on the soccer team, she had a rough home life, and spent most of her time with the other delinquents on campus, while you were in the newspaper club usually taking pictures of the sports teams, had a decent family life, and spent all your time with school.

and for some reason, since the first meeting, you two had a strong disliking for each other.

maybe it was the way she always taunted you with that damn smirk on her face, or how she would sometimes blow her cigarette smoke in your direction just to get you irritated. you didn't know why, but you hated her. in the beginning, at least.

you were friends with the other girls on the team, which meant wherever they went, nat was there too. so you unfortunately were forced to deal with her annoying antics towards you. the girls noticed fairly quickly how much you two hated each other, and decided to do something about it.

…

“shauna i don't understand why i need to be here when it's for your team,” you said to your friend. you were currently in her car while she drove you to jackie’s house where the team was going to have a “bonding” exercise. for some reason, shauna insisted that you come with. you had no idea why, but were forcefully dragged into her car so you were stuck with going.

“because you're our friend too,” shauna replied, keeping it short with her eyes on the road.

“i know that but,” you let out a huff of annoyance. “i don't wanna see her.” you mumbled.

shauna glanced over at you for a split second before back at the road. “i honestly doubt she'll be there, it’d be a rare sight to see her in such an environment like jackie’s house,” she said in response. obviously she knew who you were talking about, it was incredibly clear when that scowl would form on your face just thinking about having to deal with nat again. which is exactly why she was doing this. well, the whole team. even jackie was for the idea, as long as it meant nat wouldn't be distracted on the field anymore. so, it was the whole team setting up you and nat.

you arrived at jackie’s house a few minutes later, seeing the other cars outside telling you that the others were already there, and you could feel yourself already getting irritated at the thought of having to communicate with nat.

“come on y/n, don't pout like a puppy,” shauna chuckled lightly as the two of you walked inside the giant house.

“i’m not pouting,” you grumbled.

“y/n!” jackie exclaimed, running towards the two of you. “i’m so glad you made it!” she smiled widely at you.

“it’s no problem,” you smiled back. “i wasn't doing anything tonight anyway, my parents are out of town.”

“perfect!” jackie clasped her hands together. “follow me and we will start!”

you followed behind jackie besides shauna, noticing the quick glance they gave each other but choosing to ignore it seeing as they always had those weird glances with each other. the three of you made it to the living room where the rest of the team was sitting on the couches and chairs. your eyes immediately landed on the one girl you didn't want to see, and a scowl formed on your face before looking away.

she was wearing that same leather jacket she always seemed to wear outside of practice, and you found yourself taking another glance at her only for her to already be looking at you, making you quickly avert your gaze.

“all right! now that everyone is here,” jackie stood in front of everyone. “i think we all know why we are here, and it's not for a team bonding exercise, sorry!”

your expression turned into confusion, and apparently you were the only one confused, until you saw nat with the same look on her face.

oh no. no. you thought to yourself. there's no way. if this was some sort of thing to make you and nat be friends you were going to kill shauna for forcing you into her car.

“so, there's been something we’ve noticed as a team dealing with one of us being…distracted, during practice and games,” jackie started, trying to look at everyone but continuously going between nat and you. “so, we need to fix that! nat, will you please stand?”

with a confused look still on her face, nat stood from her spot in the recliner. “what the hell is going on here, jackie?” she asked with a sigh.

“you’ll see,” van chuckled but quickly went quiet after tai sent her a glare.

“now y/n, please stand,” jackie said to you.

you rose from the couch and looked at jackie trying your best to ignore nat.

“come here, both of you,” jackie waved her hands gesturing for the two of you to come closer.

you slowly took a few steps forward, watching as nat stepped closer as well, until you both were standing in front of each other with jackie in between.

“jackie, i really don't understand what-”

suddenly you were cut off by being grabbed by the wrist by jackie who grabbed onto nat as well.

“follow me!” jackie said to you two before dragging you both behind her.

you opened your mouth to protest but caught a glance of the other girls’ faces and realized this is the “bonding exercise”. it wasn't supposed to be for the team. it was supposed to be for you and nat. you let jackie drag you down the long hallway, not listening to nat trying to pull out of jackie’s surprisingly strong grip before jackie opened a door to a guest room, pushing you two inside.

“you two are staying in here for an hour and you will become friends,” jackie told you both.

“what?!” you exclaimed. “that's what you brought me here for?!”

“you’ll be fine, y/n!” shauna said behind jackie, peeking her head over the other girl’s shoulder.

“jackie, i swear to-” you took a step forward and jackie immediately closed the door in your face, and you heard a click from the door. you tried to open the door, only for it now to be locked. “jackie!” you called, smacking your hand on the door. “jackie, i will kill you!”

“you’ll love me for this!” she said through the door. “it's just one hour!”

footsteps were heard leaving the area and you let out a long sigh. you turned around to see nat with her arms crossed over her chest, and you let out an annoyed huff.

“did you know about this?” you asked.

“of course not,” nat shook her head. “i didn't wanna be here in the first place,” she mumbled afterwards.

“well, that makes two of us,” you replied.

the room was filled with silence after that, and after a few minutes you felt like you were going to go insane. you glanced around at the bland room before your eyes landed on nat again, who was staring at you.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” you asked her finally.

“what?” she questioned, looking at you confused.

“you're always staring at me,” you said. “and you taunt me constantly, always blowing smoke in my face, or so close that i can practically taste the alcohol in your breath.”

“tsh,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “i do that with everyone.”

“bullshit,” you snapped. “you don't do it to your teammates and you don't do it to those two drunkards you hang around.”

“and?” she said.

“and?” you repeated, getting angrier at every response she was giving. “so what the fuck is your problem with me? is it because i don't take pictures of you on the field or something?”

“oh fuck you,” nat spat. “i don't need pictures taken of me.”

“you wish,” you replied with just as much venom in your voice.

“maybe i do, since you think everyone has some massive fucking crush on you or something,” nat took an angry step towards you.

“me?” you half-laughed, also taking a step forward. “don't you suck dick for some weed and booze?”

“at least i know who i am,” nat glared at you.

“you don't,” you retorted. “you don't have a goddamn clue who you are or what you want.”

“you don't know a fucking thing about me,” nat pointed her finger at you. “i’m at least not a fucking coward who can't admit what they feel.”

“oh you feel things?” you feigned shock. “what a surprise, natalie scatorccio feels things! like what exactly?”

“that i fucking hate you,” she told you and took another step closer.

“i hate you,” you said in response.

you two stared at each other for a few seconds, then suddenly nat took one more step and smashed her lips on yours. your shock went by in a mere second, and you quickly kissed back with just as much passion. her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her as your hands found their way to her hair.

when you both pulled away to breathe, you wanted to smack that damn smirk off her face.

“i knew you had a thing for me,” nat said teasingly.

“i do not,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “i have zero feelings for you.”

“i bet i can change that,” she challenged.

one of your eyebrows raised at that. “oh really? are you challenging me?”

“uh-huh,” she nodded. “i’ll bet you that by the time states come around, you'll have fallen for me.”

“and what are we betting exactly?” you asked.

“weed and booze?”’ nat flashed a cocky smile at you.

“i suppose, only since i can easily get some,” you nodded.

“easily? shit, i guess i should've done this sooner,” nat let out a chuckle.

“you wish,” you replied with an eye roll.

“oh, i do,” she whispered and leaned in to kiss you again.

that was how the bet started. you didn't think she was serious until the monday back to school and she found you during lunch period. now instead of the annoying antics, it was a whole new type of annoying behavior with her trying to convince you to smoke just one joint with her, maybe something crazier if she has it, and the flirting that she was now constantly doing.

one day, you decided to take the joint just to please her and shut her up.

you invited her over to your house, knowing she wouldn't want you at her place, and while it took a bit of convincing to get her there, it all worked out in the end.

the two of you were sitting on your bed, a random movie playing on your television you got for your birthday while nat was about to light the joint in her hand. you took your parents ashtray from their room for nat to use, and as soon as she lit it, you weren't paying attention to the movie anymore.

she immediately noticed your stare not leaving her as she took the first drag of the joint, turning her head to the side to blow the smoke out and avoid your face. then she came up with a bright idea.

“you wanna try?”

“what?” you asked, confused.

“just take one small hit from it, you’ll live,” nat said, handing the joint towards you.

with a minute of hesitation, you reached for the joint and held it up to your lips, inhaling the smoke and feeling it invade your lungs as you coughed and blew the smoke out.

“see? you're okay,” nat flashed a small smile at you, taking the joint back from you. “come here,” she said, waving her unoccupied hand.

you moved closer to her, and watched as she inhaled the smoke and held it in for a few seconds. she then held your face in her hands and leaned in, kissing you deeply while blowing the smoke into your mouth at the same time. your hands grasped her hoodie as you felt the smoke trail into your mouth, your eyes closing at the feeling of nat’s lips on yours.

when nat pulled away and looked at you, the way you opened your eyes and gazed back at her made her want to just kiss you over and over again. so with another drag of the joint, the process repeated until the whole joint was gone and nat was between your thighs making you feel things you had never felt before.

she never let you live that one down. proceeding to then ask over and over again if you’ll smoke with her again even if nothing happens, she just can't keep her hands to herself when she's high around you. she loves the way your warm skin feels against her cold hands, she loves gripping your waist to tug you closer to her, and god does she love the way you taste on her tongue with her hands clamped on your legs keeping them open. she couldn't get enough of you.

and you found yourself falling for her, just like you said you wouldn't. in the beginning it was easy to deal with her annoying behavior towards you, but over time you enjoyed it more, because you realized she was being genuine with you.

the night you realized you had indeed fallen for nat was when she came to you after a long day of arguing with her mom’s new boyfriend, drenched in the rain from walking the whole way.

“nat? it's like, midnight,” you said when you opened your front door to see the blonde standing there.

she looked like a puppy that had just gotten kicked out of their house, looking at you with sad eyes, her makeup trailing down her cheeks.

“come in,” you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.

she was silent the whole way to your bedroom, even when you handed her a spare pair of her clothes she “accidentally” left the last time she was at your house. you let her take a shower as you stared at your tv, now completely awake and likely not going to get back to sleep until the early morning. when nat walked back into your bedroom, you waved your hand to gesture for her to come to you.

she stood in front of you as you sat on the bed, swiveling around to face her. your arms wrapped around her, gently pulling her closer to you as you peered up at her.

“you can always come here if you need anything, okay? i don't want you to have nowhere to go,” you told her in a soft voice.

“thank you,” she finally spoke quietly.

you nodded your head. “c’mon, you can sleep here tonight.” you tugged on the hem of her shirt.

“are you sure?” she asked.

“mhm,” you nodded again.

you scooted over so she could get in next to you and she slowly got in the bed, laying next to you awkwardly.

“are you okay?” you asked.

a head shake was the response you got.

“do you wanna talk about it?” was your next question.

another head shake in response.

“okay,” you nodded your head. “you don't have to.”

nat rolled over onto her side to face you, and you couldn't help but stare at her beautiful bare face without any makeup on. she could feel your gaze on her, and it made a red hue form on her face.

“why’re you staring at me?” she whispered.

“because you're beautiful like this,” you answered back in a whisper.

“you don't mean that,” she shook her head.

“i do,” you replied. “call me crazy but i like this version of you too.”

“mm,” she hummed, her eyes avoiding yours. “you don't think i’m some kind of burnout that's a burden to you?”

“never,” you shook your head. you carefully reached one of your hands to touch her cheek. “you will never be a burden to me, nat. i can promise you that. if you have nowhere to go, then i’ll be here. if you have no one else to rely on, i’ll be here. okay?”

“okay,” she said quietly.

you flashed a small smile at her before slowly wrapping your arms around her and pulling her closer to you. she quickly relaxed into your touch, resting her head on your chest with her own arms gripping you tightly as if she was worried you would disappear suddenly.

there was a nice, calm silence that filled the room now, and nat was close to falling asleep when she heard you whisper something quietly that made her feel something she hadn't felt before.

“i love you.”

she thought it was a dream when she woke up the next morning, not believing that those were the words you spoke to her thinking she was asleep.

nat woke up first due to the sun peeking through your curtains, making her groan quietly and open her eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. she glanced at you beside her still asleep and realized your arms remained around her through the whole night, making a warm feeling radiate through her body. she rested her head on the pillow again and silently stared at you while you slept.

she was thinking about what you had said before she fell asleep. she was unsure if she was just imagining it or if you actually said it. she didn't know if she should question it, not wanting to ruin the closest thing she had to someone who genuinely loved her. but, she wanted to ask so badly at the same time. she wanted, no, needed to know if you were being serious. it would tear her apart if you were lying or just saying it to make her feel better. nat shook her head at the thought of you lying about it. surely, you wouldn't lie about something like this.

“are you gonna stay staring at me or is a good morning too much for you?” you groggily asked nat, opening your eyes slowly.

nat’s face immediately turned bright red at your words, and she quickly averted her gaze. “sorry,” she mumbled quietly.

“chill, i’m just playing,” you giggled. “did you sleep?”

“yeah,” nat nodded. “thanks for letting me stay.”

“of course,” you smiled at her.

silence filled the room after you responded. nat kept giving short glances to you and quickly looking back away and back down at the bed. it was obvious that she was thinking about something, so you decided to question it.

“what’re you thinking about?”

she immediately shook her head slightly. “nothing.”

“i can tell it's something,” you moved closer to her, carefully pushing some of her hair out of her face. “what is it?”

nat avoided your eyes, looking down. “did you mean what you said last night?” she asked in a small voice.

you stared in silent shock for a few seconds, not knowing that she had heard you. “you…heard that?” you said slowly.

all nat did was nod as a response, still not looking at you. you didn't know what to do, either. this was definitely not the way you wanted it to come out, but it looks like you were going to have to work with it.

“i meant it,” you said suddenly, making nat now look at you. “i thought you were asleep which is why i said it but, i meant it. i love you, nat.”

she gazed back at you with slightly widened eyes, trying to process what you said and when she did, she felt her heart beating incredibly fast. “i love you too,” she whispered.

a smile quickly grew on your face and you cupped nat’s face in your hands, leaning in and kissing her. you could feel nat smile into the kiss, and when you pulled away, your smile grew bigger seeing the same one on her face.

“so, does this mean i win the bet?” nat questioned in a teasing tone.

“yes, you won the bet,” you laughed lightly. “i’ll get the stuff tomorrow.”

“wait, you were serious about getting it easily?” nat asked, now serious.

“yeah, my cousin gives me cheap prices,” you nodded, saying it nonchalantly.

“holy shit i think i just fell more in love with you,” nat grinned at you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheeks. “are your parents gonna be home this weekend?”

“nope,” you answered with a smile. “so i’ll stash it all until you get here.”

“god, you're amazing,” nat responded, now starting to kiss all over your face. “we’ll have such a fun time.”

“you just want me to smoke with you again.”

“oh yeah, a hundred percent.”

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets imagine

[gloomy0x0phantom]

When he falls out of love

Sanji x Fem!reader ❰ headcanon ❱ tags : angst angst aaaaaaaaaangst, falling out of love note : Thank you Silent Hill ost for bringing me so much sadness and inspiration today 😍

I hope you're ready to cry ~ ❥ Sanji will never tell you straight out that he no longer loves you. ❥ Even if you're no longer his soulmate in his eyes, he still loves you in some way, he doesn't want to put you through the pain of a break-up, a separation, so... he suffers in silence. He refuses to break up with you. ❥ He'll continue to tell you I love you, cook all your favorite dishes, caress you with tenderness and look at you with affection... he'll continue to make love to you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and protect the flame of your bond. ❥ Over time, you'll be the one to notice the changes in his attitude and routine. ❥ Smoking like it's his last day on earth. The few cigarettes a day become a pack of cigarettes, and if he's been hiding his secret for a long time... two packs. This disastrous situation causes him stress that crushes all his energy, but when he takes a drag from a cig, everything seems to fall back into place for a few seconds. It's his only way of relaxing, although it hurts him in the end. ❥ When you wake up at night, he's no longer by your side. Sanji has always taken a few hours at night to prepare the ingredients for the next day, but he usually hurries back to cuddle with you and sleep. Now he's gone until the early hours of the morning. When you go to ask him to come with you, he looks at you with hearts in his eyes and promises to join you as soon as he finishes his chores. You end up falling asleep, alone... In reality, Sanji feels unable to share a bed with you, so he sleeps on the kitchen bench and wakes up before the others so as not to worry them. ❥ Sanji spends a lot more time in the kitchen trying out new dishes. He's so busy, it interferes with your activities as a couple, like: taking a bath together, napping, playing little games to keep you occupied, the cooking lessons Sanji used to give you that always ended up in the pantry... But it's normal for Sanji to be focused on his end, he's a chef and cooking is his art. It's totally normal, right? ❥ Sometimes, in very rare moments, Sanji slips up. When you walk out of your room in an outfit that suits you so well, you expect to get a completely over-the-top reaction from your boyfriend, but no... for a few seconds, your eyes meet and you see the emptiness in his blue ones. Sanji is startled and notices what has just happened, so to make up for it, he blurts out "My precious goddess, you're so beautiful, my brain has stopped working! What did I do in a previous life to deserve you, mon amour?" ❥ Sanji is a loyal man, but now that his heart is separated from yours, he allows himself to fall under the spell of other women when you're not around. He can't help fantasizing about other women. Guilt eats him up and he feels disgusted imagining other women under his body or simply in his arms. He finds comfort in the fact that you'll never see what's lurking inside his skull and that, at least, he's faithful to you... physically.

It's his turn to keep an eye on the Thousand Sunny at night, and this moment of silence can only do his wounded soul good. Sanji sucks the poison from his cigarette and slowly releases the smoke. He gazes at the sea, imagining himself somewhere else, a few years before you joined the crew, when Nami and Robin were his only worries. He recalls the happiness that was born in his heart when you officially joined the team, his nose running a river of blood at the idea of seeing you around all day long. And of course, you responded to his advances! Unlike the navigator and the archaeologist, you allowed yourself to be seduced quite easily, and Sanji took his chances. He had a great time with you, and frankly, he wouldn't trade it for the world, but... even though you're a deadly beauty, even though you're a strong, independent woman, even though you're perfect... you were not meant to be.

Sanji sighs and slowly shakes his head. For heaven's sake, it's been months since he realized that he doesn't share the same feelings as you, and every day he feels as if a knife is sinking a little deeper into his back. Can he honestly go on like this until death? Alas, for your happiness, he's willing to do the impossible, because at the end of the day, you're still his crewmate.

"Sanji, are you crying?"

The cook straightens up, he hadn't heard you coming. You shouldn't be awake, it's late at night, but you haven't been sleeping very well for a while. No idea why. Anyway, you weren't lying in your question, tears were indeed running down the blond's cheeks. You approach him carefully and wipe away his tears with a sad smile. The gesture provokes a sob from your boyfriend, so you open your arms wide and welcome him warmly. You stroke his back and try to comfort him as best you can.

"I don't know what you're trying to run away from, I don't know what's going on in your head, but I know you can defeat whatever's trying to hurt you. You're a strong man, Sanji, I believe in you."

The two of you part and look into each other's eyes. It's not the first time you've shared a long look full of undertones, but this time you both seem to be looking for something in the other's gaze. Sanji can't take it anymore, he can't take it anymore, but you're so perfect… What could he possibly blame you for, even if he tried to break up with you? You're thoughtful, caring, a good listener, you share your food with him, you give him little gifts, you compliment him every chance you get, honestly, you're the dream girlfriend. So, so, so perfect…

Sanji closes his eyes and presses his forehead against yours.

“Je t’aime. Je t’aime si, si fort…” (I love you. I love you so, so much.)

In your turn, you break down under the weight of emotion, you start to cry like him and don't hold back any tears. Your hands tighten on his shoulders and you try to remain calm. You knew it was a bad idea to approach him like that at night, but insomnia and bad feelings convinced you to join him under the moon. Honestly, you thought you'd found the courage to end your relationship, but seeing Sanji in this state? You know that parting with him would only break his heart and drive him deeper into darkness. You don't know what's been going on with him for the last few weeks, but it's obvious that he needs love and so you can't break up with him. One day, you'll tell him the truth... but for tonight, you've got to fulfill your duty as his, perfect, girlfriend.

“I know.”

#sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji headcanons #one piece x reader #headcanons #x reader #gloomy0x0phantom

[mlmxreader]

Grumpy Grandmaster | Bi-Han x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “Fire and caffeine - a lot of nicotine” with Bi Han. ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bi-Han isn't known for being soft or for being open - but when it comes to you, he doesn't give you the same treatment as everybody else.

: ̗̀➛ smoking

•─────────────────★•♛•★────────────────•

Bi-Han would do anything to ensure that his clan prospered and survived, even during the toughest of winters and the most harsh of summers; he would do whatever it took to ensure that they survived, that they continued and carried on. But he had a lot of ambition, he wanted to be a true leader and to show what the Lin Kuei were truly capable of - that they could do better than simply waiting around for threats to come.

With Sektor at his side, he would ensure that he could create a better, stronger army than what he thought was once possible. When you came along, none of that changed; Bi-Han was still just as determined and ambitious and restless. He was still just as icy and cold as he had always been.

He respected you, you were a strong and competent fighter - skilled and intelligent, ruthless when you had to be. You proved yourself time and time again from the very first day that you joined the Lin Kuei almost three years ago.

But he never quite admired you, not really; as much as he did respect you, he still looked down on you for your shortcomings. Smoking being the biggest one. Bi-Han wasn’t an idiot, he knew that you snuck out as often as possible to have a quick cigarette when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He was aware that you would be performing one duty and then disappearing from it the moment you saw an opportunity. Or that you would sit down and smoke when you were meant to be doing something he had asked you to.

He wasn’t sure why he allowed you to get away with it, and Sektor couldn’t calculate why either, but he never sought to punish you for your little habit even though he knew he should have. Part of being Lin Kuei meant that you would need to be strongly disciplined - but you never were.

Bi-Han was certain that he wasn’t going soft, he knew he wasn’t; he was still abrasive and gruff. He never raised his voice at you, though, not like he did with the others; if he was far away and he wanted your attention, of course he would shout, but he rarely scorned you or shouted in your face.

In fact, you could never actually recall a time when he had done such a thing - convinced he never did. Granted, he was always a certain level of cold and abrasive towards you, but it was never like it had been with anyone else; he seemed to prefer your company above that of the other members of his clan, if you were honest.

Like today, when he caught you outside smoking and huffed as he sat beside you, his hands collapsed between his knees as he grumbled and shook his head. 

“It’s almost evening,” he observed. “You should be getting ready to head inside, not out here breaking my rules.”

You shrugged as you looked at him from the corner of your eye, daring to laugh a little. “You think I care?”

“Don’t.”

“C’mon, Bi-Han,” you nearly sang, raising your brows slightly. “Do you really think you can scare me?”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “But you keep breaking every single rule.”

You hummed, shaking your head as you smiled. “And what are you gonna do about it, Grandmaster?”

He scowled at you, but when he noticed the bumps along your skin, he sighed, and shrugged off his jacket before placing it on your shoulders. “You’re getting cold, you need to go inside.”

“You need to hang on,” you challenged, tugging his jacket a little closer and almost snuggling into it. “Nice jacket, though, thank you.”

Bi-Han rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he huffed and looked away; he made no move to do anything, merely staying sat beside you as he waited for you to finish your cigarette.

Reminding himself that if it wasn’t for your skills and your abilities, he would have thrown you out a long time ago for bringing shame to the Lin Kuei.

But then, there was a funny feeling in his chest, and to only make matters far worse, his hands were shaking when you laughed; he knew what it was, and although he wished to crush it and to make it colder than ice, he knew he couldn’t.

He was still human, after all. Perhaps, he could justify it; it would be good for the clan if he were to take up with one of their own, it would boost their morale and it would cement his status as an honourable and decent leader.

It would look better when it came to diplomacy as well, as it would make him seem more approachable. He nodded slowly to himself for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

“How do you wish to spend the evening?”

“Fire and caffeine - a lot of nicotine and very little sleep,” you laughed, unaware that the sound made his head spin. 

He shook it off, clearing his throat. “As the Grandmaster, certain things are expected of me. I need to find a suitor. Someone who is suitable to lead at my side.”

“Alright,” you shrugged. You hated to think about it, but you knew that it would never be you. “So, what? You want me to help?”

“No,” Bi-Han stated, shaking his head. “I'm not being soft, I just think it would be better for the clan if I were to take a lover who is one of them. it would boost morale… it would look better for diplomacy if I were to take a lover from a different background than my own.”

“You are an absolute softie!” You howled with laughter, tilting your head back and giving him a good view of your throat. The soft skin was probably more than easy to bite and cover in marks to claim as his own.

“Don’t.”

“C’mon,” you grinned, nudging his shoulder. “Admit you like me.”

Bi-Han sighed heavily. “Perhaps.”

“Ah! He admits it!” You sprung up, grinning as you pointed at him for a moment. “Grumpy Bi-Han likes me and he admits it!”

As much as he hated it, Bi-Han could do very little but to roll his eyes again as he nodded slowly; a hint of a smile upon his lips. 

#mlem writes #bi-han x reader #bi han x reader #bi han imagine #bi han oneshot #bi han one shot #bi han fanfiction #bi han fanfic #bi han fic #bi han #sub zero x reader #sub zero x you #sub zero imagine #sub zero fanfiction #sub zero fanfic #sub zero fic #sub zero oneshot #sub zero one shot #sub zero bi han #bi han sub zero #sub zero mk #mk sub zero #mortal kombat sub zero #mk bi han #mortal kombat bi han #bi han mortal kombat #bi han mk #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x yn

[buccini555]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine)

♡ H e a d c a n o n s/I m a g i n e s .ᐟ .ᐟ

♡ 𝑭𝒕. Takeomi Akashi

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 ♡

tw: troubled/toxic relationship mention, manipulation mention, betrayal mention, Takeomi being an idiot sometimes

𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗔𝗸𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶: It's undeniable the fact that Takeomi is a natural at night parties, and there, at some party, he ended up meeting you, as soon as the older man laid eyes on you, a huge interest can be felt, Takeomi doesn't He's the romantic type, but he offered you a drink and after that night you started having a secret affair.

He's absent, he rarely shows any feelings or anything like that, except when he's drunk, sometimes he might bring you flowers or gifts, but he can't even hide from himself how unfaithful he is, Takeomi definitely doesn't take the hint. You take him so seriously, ending up treating you just like a gain most of the time, even so, he also ends up being jealous and possessive, fights occur frequently in your relationship and he makes a point of starting them.

You usually meet in an apartment that Takeomi rented exclusively to see you, sometimes you also end up going out in public, however, the eldest prefers to maintain almost absolute secrecy, only restricting his meetings to reserved and private places.

As mentioned briefly, Takeomi gets involved with other women, he doesn't make a point of hiding this fact and gets upset when you demand him in any way, he is controlling and often manipulative, not caring much about your feelings, even so, rarely Sometimes he ends up treating you like a princess, doing absolutely everything you want and giving you large amounts of money and anything else you want.

tw: use of cigarettes, jealousy/possessiveness/aggressivenes, masturbation, forced penetration (?), overstimulation, degradation kink, petnames (baby, babygirl, princess) strong words(bitch, slut, whore and others), masochism(?) mention, unprotected sex, creampie

After another meeting, Takeomi arrived home, sitting on the sofa and lighting a cigarette waiting for you to welcome him, you had just gotten out of the shower when you found him sitting waiting for you, surprised that he had arrived early, immediately went to see him.

"I was waiting for you, I didn't want to disturb your shower." Taking a drag, he said, finishing releasing the smoke, then you sat on his lap hugging him.

"I missed you." Right then, you said, Takeomi held you closer and smiled, looking in a good mood.

"I hope you dressed up like that just for me." He laughed, leaving the cigarette in the ashtray next to him.

"Of course, who else would it be for?" You said to tease him.

"Who do you think you are to tease me like that, girl? Have you lost the notion?" Again, he held you, making you sit on the couch and look at him as the older man held your wrists. "Takeomi!" You said as you tried to free yourself.

Takeomi looked you up and down, seeing that underneath your robe you were only wearing lingerie. "Don't play with me, you know you won't be able to handle it later." Smiling, he said, pulling aside one of the sleeves of her clothes, leaving your bra visible.

"What do you want, Takeomi? Don't you realize I was mad at you?" Turning your face away, you questioned as he held your body against the couch.

"You're not mad at me, I know very well what you want, do you think I don't know you?" He brought one of his hands to your face, pulling it and making you look at him again. "And isn't what I want obvious?" He questioned. "You better start behaving, otherwise..." Takeomi forced your face further, making you kiss him.

"Otherwise what, Takeomi?" In the same teasing tone, you asked, leaving the older somewhat irritated. "Damn, girl, don't act stupid." He said right away. "Am I going to have to teach you to respect me?" In a serious tone, he spoke as he took off your robe, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him, Akashi was on top of you still holding your face and keeping you completely submissive to him, Takeomi ran one of his hands down your thigh, lifting and holding you tightly, then sliding his hand down your crotch and putting your panties aside, ending up forcing two fingers into your intimacy, making you let out a small sigh.

"T-takeomi!" You scolded the older again for taking you by surprise, even so, you were enjoying yourself while he masturbated you, his fingers went deep into your tight pussy, which was already wet, making you more and more excited.

He laughed, mocking your situation, Takeomi continued to play with his intimacy until he was satisfied. "Do you think I'm going to ignore your fucking stupid behavior? I'm going to have to punish you for being a silly slut." He removed his fingers from you and licked them right away. "Turn around, now, stupid whore." He ordered, making you turn over and face him.

"I told you to turn around properly, didn't you listen to me or are you going to continue acting stupid?" Holding your waist, he made you lean towards him, Takeomi held his ass while you remained silent, just obeying him.

Takeomi grabbed your hair, pulling it back, thus keeping you completely naked.

"I'm not going to hurt you, no, silly babygirl... I wouldn't be able to hurt my little princess." He said, leaving you a little the freest. "Who said I'm afraid of you?" Soon after, you responded. "You're always a slut to let me fuck you like that." Again, he laughed, teasing you even more.

"Now, keep your fucking mouth shut and let me fuck your pussy to teach you a lesson." He didn't want to waste any more time, so, already excited enough, he needed you, Takeomi didn't care about hurting you, passing his member through your pussy, he put everything in at once, making you moan at the same moment, he he definitely wouldn't be affectionate or have any pity for you, he just wanted to fuck you and he did so, fast and deep in the way he preferred, while he filled your intimacy with thrusts, he pulled your hair and slapped you, making you feel every movement and every inch inside you, Takeomi pulled your hair even more as you moaned his name, leaving him even more excited and overcome with the desire to make you reach your limit.

"Y-you're nothing but a bitch." Going deeper inside you, he couldn't handle fucking you for much longer. "I-I am, I'm your bitch, Takeomi." Trying to control your trembling body, you whispered as Takeomi increased the pace of his thrusts. "Yeah, c'mon my girl! You drive me so fucking crazy with that tight pussy, Fuck! " He held your waist, making you even closer as he forced your hips. "...If you keep being a good little slut I'll fill you up with my cum." Takeomi stated, pulling his hair even harder. "I-I'll continue to be a good slut." You responded, feeling more and more pleasure with each movement and touch of the older.

Both of you were close to your limits, knowing that he wouldn't be able to fuck you for a long time, Takeomi just went faster, deeper and more violent, with every moan of yours that he managed to get out, he remained more excited and determined to make you cum until couldn't stand it anymore, he made you turn around to face him, placing one of your legs over his shoulder, intensifying each thrust even more until he felt your body trembling and your pretty pussy soaked, seeing you at the peak made him already I couldn't take all the pleasure I felt at that moment any longer. "Fuck, I love you." He said, ending up keeping his previous line and pouring all that hot liquid inside you. "I love you too." You responded, pulling him into a kiss while you could still feel his dick pulsating in your intimacy, he could still give you a few light thrusts but soon withdrew from inside you, seeing your intimacy dripping. "You were a good girl." He said, hugging you and showing some kind of affection.

#akashi takeomi #takeomi smut #tokrev takeomi #takeomi akashi #takeomi x reader #tr takeomi #bonten takeomi #bonten smut #bonten x reader #bonten husbands #bonten hcs #akashitakeomi #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyorevengersheadcanons #tokrev #tokyorev x reader #tokyorevengers #tokyo rev hcs #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #takeomi x you #takeomi x y/n #tokyorev smut #bonten tokyo revengers #bonten #akashi siblings

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 3: I Can't Stop You Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan Author's Note: this chapter does talk about sex with the husband, which isn’t non consensual, but it also isn’t something the reader actually wants, doing it more out of obligation than anything. also chapters will probably start to be longer and therefore take longer to write <3 Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

You rarely smoked. 

The only time you did was after you and Hans were intimate. He would roll over onto his side, asleep, and you would get up from the bed, wrapping your robe around you and heading outside to the front porch, sitting right on the top stair. 

It was comforting to you, because you imagined the flame and smoke from the cigarette would burn the remnants of him from your body. 

You felt them in your pocket, the promise of temporary relief calling to you like a siren. You ignored them, choosing to listen to the sounds of the woods around you. The crickets sang, the frogs croaked, and you heard the chattering of nocturnal animals as they found food for the night. Everything was so peaceful, so why couldn’t you stop yourself from feeling so tense?

It had been two days since the trip into Rhodes. Hans had stayed in his office for most of that time, only coming out to eat and sleep. But as was typical before leaving on trips, Hans wanted you, so you obliged him. 

Sex with Hans felt like a task, no passion between the two of you. He treated it like he treated his business: efficiently. There was no foreplay, no lingering touches, nothing. It was just straight to the point, and done as soon as it started, which came as a relief to you. The less time you had to spend doing it with him, the better. 

However, as much as it shamed you to admit it, your thoughts had not been of Hans during the moment. Instead of cold gray eyes traveling down your body, you imagined they were a certain shade of blue. Instead of pallid skin, you imagined it was tanned, roughened from years in the suns. And when Hans’ hands did touch you, you imagined they were strong and broad, calloused yet gentle. You’d be a liar if you said it didn’t make it easier. 

Disgusted with yourself, you ran a hand down your face, slumping forward where you sat on the stair. Cold air dug into your skin, and you tightened your robe further around your body. The silk felt nice against your skin, but it did nothing to protect against the elements. 

You were about to fish the pack out of your pocket, but the sound of hoofbeats had you perking your head up, eyes focusing on the small path in front of you. Emerging from the shadows was a man on horseback, lantern in one hand that lit up the side of his face. It took you a second to register who it was, not quite believing your eyes at first. 

“Arthur?” You called out. Not only could you not escape from him in your thoughts, but here he was in reality. Not that you minded, but of course the timing had to be terrible. 

He responded with a noise of affirmation, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “What’re you doin’ here? It’s very late.” You knew it was somewhere between nine and ten at night, which is a little late for visitors. “Don’t tell me you’re here to try and rob me again.”

Arthur audibly sighed, shaking his head as he dismounted his horse. “You ain’t ever gonna let that go, are you?” You watched as he secured the reins around a nearby tree before making his way over to you.

“Never,” you laughed, and despite your better judgment, you scooted over to the side to give Arthur room to sit. You patted the stair when he got to the porch, and he sat down next to you. The scent of tobacco and gunpowder wafted over you, and you felt his jacket covered arm brush yours, causing you to shiver.

It was at that point you remembered you were only wearing your undergarments underneath, and you tightened the robe even more around your body, both because of self awareness and the temperature. 

Wordlessly, you felt Arthur shift, taking his jacket and draping it across your shoulders. The outside material of the jacket had been rough, but the inside was lined with a soft pelt, warmed by Arthur’s body. The addicting scent was even stronger now, causing your head to spin, and you resisted the urge to bury your face into it. “You’ll catch your death out here,” he said disapprovingly. You just chuckled in response. 

“What’re you doin’ out here, anyway?” You heard him ask, and you shrugged. 

“I could ask you the same question.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and he sighed. 

“Leigh was worried ‘bout the ‘issue’ you’d been having, with the break-ins. He wanted me to come out ‘ere and make sure everythin’ is good.” He laughed lightly, and you felt his eyes on you. “Now will you answer me?”

Finally, you pulled out the pack, holding it gently in your hands. Glancing up at Arthur, he seemed surprised. “Didn’t strike me as the type who smoked,” he commented.

“I rarely do.” You pulled out one of the cigarettes from the pack, placing it gently between your lips. Pulling out your lighter, it took a few too many tries before the spark caught, and you lit the end of it. Taking a long drag, you wordlessly offered Arthur one from the pack.

He accepted it, placing it between his own plush lips, and you shifted closer to light it. Except this time, no matter how many times you tried, the spark wouldn’t catch, and you could hear Arthur chuckle as you grew more and more frustrated. “Piece of shit,” you grumbled, “I keep forgettin’ to buy a new one.”

You tried it a few more times before giving up, shoving it angrily back into your robe. “Sorry,” you grumbled, guilty eying the unlit cigarette that hung from his mouth.

“Can I try somethin’?” Arthur asked, and it piqued your curiosity, so you nodded. “C’mere.” Arthur gestured for you to move closer to him, which you did. The man practically radiated heat, you noticed, and your cold body wanted nothing more than to wrap around him. 

Your brain stopped functioning when you felt him gently grasp your chin with gloved fingers, keeping your head still, but not tight enough to keep you locked there. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss you, but he instead pressed the end of his cigarette against yours. “Inhale,” he instructed, and you watched the end of yours glow with red embers as you did, which ignited his.

He pulled away then, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary, and you were certain he could feel the way your heart hammered. “Resourceful,” you muttered, and Athur laughed, smoke spilling from his open mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but his cheeks were a shade darker than they were moments ago.

“Somethin’ like that. I think ‘desperate’ is the right word, though.” Arthur leaned back on one of his arms, the other moving the cigarette to and from his lips. “Haven’t had a good cigarette in a while.” 

Without even thinking about it, you extended the pack of them for him to take, and you watched him switch his attention from the pack to you. “Take it,” you demanded, shaking it gently when he didn’t budge. “I got plenty of them.”

“I appreciate it, but-”

“Just take the damn thing!” You giggled, practically pressing it against his chest, yet he still made no move to grab it. With a quirk of your brow that said really?, you tucked the pack into one of the various pockets of the coat around your shoulders. 

Arthur shook his head with a mix of defeat and amusement, and even in the low light you could see that smile that made you weak. “You’re stubborn.”

“First I’m strange, and now I’m stubborn. Got any other s words you wanna call me?” 

“I can think of a few.” Arthur had begun to lean near you as you spoke, but you watched his eyes flick down to where a ring sat on your hand and he pulled away. “But none of which I should say to a married woman.”

Right. Holding back a sigh of disappointment, you felt the jacket begin to slip from your shoulders, and you swore you saw Arthur’s arm move to fix it before stopping himself. Securing it back around, you took a final drag from your cigarette before stomping it out with your shoe, then kicking the butt under the porch once it had cooled some.

“Are you busy the next couple of weeks?” You asked, not really knowing what you were saying. 

“I’ve got some things. Why?”

“Oh, nevermind.” You immediately felt silly for even bringing it up.

“You sure?”

“Well…” you took a breath. “Hans is gonna be gone for the next week or two, and you especially know how easy it is to get in here,” you gestured to the house, and Arthur shook his head again. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to ask is if you’d swing by every couple of days? Just to make sure nothin’ has happened? I’ll sleep better knowing there's someone out there who keepin’ an eye on things. And I’ll pay,” you tagged on, and Arthur brought the cigarette back up to his lips, almost contemplative. 

You totally weren’t trying to come up with a reason to see him more. 

“Just every couple of days?”

You nodded. “You don’t even gotta talk to me or anythin’. I’ll leave the money somewhere secure and you can just grab it.”

“And if I wanna talk to you?” Arthur’s voice was surprisingly faint, like someone would if they didn’t have complete confidence in what they were saying. 

Cherishing the knowledge that he didn’t dislike your presence, you couldn’t help the small smile as you responded. “Well, I’ll be around.”

Arthur hummed in response, and he took one final drag until he was stomping it out, kicking it under the porch like you did. The two of you sat in silence after that, simply taking in the serenity of the nighttime forest. Arthur titled his head back, eyes locked on to the forest, and the moonlight graced his features. Why did he look even more gorgeous at night? Pale white light highlighted the angles of his face, his high cheeks, the crook of his nose. You were able to make out a scar along the bridge of his nose, and another on his chin. You wondered if the rest of his body was marked that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at him until he turned his attention on you, and you couldn’t tell if he was amused or concerned. “You alright there?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you quickly responded. “Just tired.” Whether Arthur believed you, you’d never know. 

“Let’s get you inside, then,” Arthur replied, slowly standing up from the step. You almost wanted to grab his hand and pull him back down, not wanting this little moment to end. But that familiar feeling of guilt returned, and so you let the moment go, dissipating in the air like the smoke of your cigarettes. 

Arthur helped you up, escorting you to your front door with a hand barely not touching your back. You slid the jacket off your body, giving it back to him with a soft thank you. After draping it around one of his arms, he held the door open for you. You were about to step in when you heard him murmur your name. “Have a good night, darlin’.”

“Because of you, it is.” You beamed at him, before ducking into the dimly-lit house. A few seconds later, you heard the door latch shut, and the sound of receding hoofbeats a few minutes after. 

You gave yourself a moment to calm your racing heart, fanning your face to try and alleviate the heat in your cheeks. You were giddy and felt lighter than a feather. Like the last time, you felt like your real self had broken free, if not for a moment. That taste of freedom was delicious, and it was addicting. 

But with that freedom came guilt, and you were screaming at yourself in your head, every nasty word under the sun aimed directly at you in your mind. Married or not, you shouldn’t be letting an almost stranger sit that close to you, let him drape his jacket over you, let him hold your face so gently.

You shouldn’t be reacting this way. 

You shouldn’t be torturing yourself by getting close to him. 

You shouldn’t be getting close to him.

There were so many things you shouldn’t be doing, but you knew you couldn’t stop now. You needed more.

Sighing, you slowly began to make your way upstairs, the stairs creaking with each step. You headed into the washroom that wasn’t attached to your bedroom, this one located across the hall a ways down from where Hans was currently asleep. Washing the remnants of smoke from your body, you dared to glance at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, nothing has changed too drastically since you got married, your face still practically the same. But a deep weariness had made itself at home in your eyes. Your eyes, once filled with wonder and joy at the world, had turned dull, much like Hans’. They seemed to have sunken in more, like the life from your body was being sucked from your body. 

Anger boiled your blood, tears threatening to flow as you stared at the husk of yourself in the mirror. You were angry at your family for marrying you off. You were angry at Hans for agreeing to marry you. You were angry at the world for thinking it was okay.

And you were angry at Arthur for breaking into your house and setting off this chain of events in your mind. 

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. This marriage needed to happen, you told yourself, and it provided some small comfort, but it didn’t ease the sense of betrayal. And you shouldn’t be mad at Arthur, because it wasn’t his fault. You just wanted someone to blame for your treachery. Wiping down your hands, you were sure to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror again as you left.

Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom, the familiar sight of Hans’ form beneath the covers causing a lump to form in your throat. Quickly slipping off the robe, you replaced it with a nightgown before joining him under the covers. 

The comforting smell of Arthur still clung to your skin, lulling you to sleep, your dreams interrupted with visions of him. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The sunlight woke you up, beams interrupting your slumber instead of the voice of your husband. 

Sitting up, you placed your hand on the other side of your bed, and you felt it was cold. A smile grew across your face, an almost child-like giddiness bubbling inside of you. He was gone.

You quickly got out of bed, immediately heading to the closet to get dressed, not wanting to waste any of the precious time you had alone. You had no idea what you were going to do, but you were going to savor every moment. You had glanced at the clock on the way over, and you were surprised to see that you’d slept in until ten.

You decided on a thin, flowy skirt and a light blouse, something that would let you move with ease. As you got dressed, a familiar piece of paper caught your eye, tucked in the drawer containing your socks hastily. You picked up the little thank you note that Arthur had given to you, looking over it fondly. It was such a small gesture, but it meant everything to you. 

Tucking it back, you left your closet, heading down the stairs. Even the house seemed happier, sunlight streaming into the windows, and you opened some of them, letting wind clear away the stagnant air. You made yourself a quick breakfast, an assortment of fruits and some bread, cleaning the dishes once you were done. 

You now sat at the dining table, contemplating what you were going to do. Your options were quite limited, as the only way to travel from the house was the carriage, but that was gone. Hans didn’t keep horses, finding the creatures disgusting, leaving you stranded at the house. 

That wasn’t to say you didn't have a way of getting to places. If you really needed to, the main road wasn’t far, about a five minute walk on foot. If you waited long enough, someone would come by with a carriage, and you could ask to hop on. More often than not, they would accept, and you were always sure to hand them a couple of bills for their troubles. It was dangerous, and probably quite stupid, but you enjoyed the thrill of it all. 

But you weren’t in the mood to travel in the city, especially this early, where everyone would be able to clearly see who you were. You slumped back in the chair. Now that the novelty of being alone had worn off, the persistent loneliness was no longer covered up, making you slump even further into your chair.

It was then you finally remembered your little project you’d been working on for some time: your garden. You quickly left the house, a newfound energy in your step as you traveled along the makeshift path you’d made with your steps.Your skirts caught on various plants and sticks, but it didn’t deter you, and you made it to your garden in no time. 

It wasn’t much of a garden, to be completely honest with yourself. Fallen trees stacked up against one side, blocking it from view from the house. You hadn't tended to it for some time, and it showed. All six of your planters were handmade, made from various sticks and planks you’d found scattered about, and you noticed that they were all spilling out their precious dirt, the wood long since rotted. Also, weeds and vines and overgrowth covered over the delicate plants you’d raised, and you made a sad noise. You hoped they weren’t all dead. 

Digging through the thick growth, your fears were confirmed when instead of bright green, you were met with wilted brown. They weren’t anything special, just a few herbs and small vegetables that you’d grown from the remnants of produce you’d used for supper. Still, it was something you’d poured yourself into, and you couldn’t help the way your shoulders sagged, energy wilted just like the plants. 

You were about to move the weeds back over, when from the pile of dead plants, a sliver of fresh green caught your eye. Investigating further, you found a cluster of small growth of thyme and mint, baby sprouts, but still able to become something greater. A victorious laugh left you, and you eagerly began tearing away the invasive greenery, your energy returned.

It took a while, but eventually you’d uncovered everything, the dead plants pulled out, leaving the few remaining live ones in the unstable dirt. Before you could move them, though. you’d have to make new planters. The rest of the day you spent gathering various sticks, planks, and pieces of bark, creating a substantial pile in the garden.

By the time night came around, you were exhausted, covered in dirt and sweat, but surprisingly content. You bathed and, no matter how much you wanted to stay up and wait to see if Arthur would stop by, you went to bed. You said every couple of days, not every night, for God’s sake. 

The next day was spent working on the planters, taking many breaks inside. It took too many tires for you to make one that would stay together, but by the end of the night you’d made one. 

The third day arrived, and you worked again on the planters. It was the end of the third night when you heard hoofbeats come down your road, and you felt your heart beat excitedly. You were still close to the house, so you were able to hear Arthur call out your name. “Over here!” You responded, but you doubted he could see you because your back was pressed against the stack of fallen logs, blocking you from view from the house. “In the woods!”

It took a few moments, but you eventually heard branches crack and leaves rustle, as well as the light noise of his spurs. “Hello, Arthur,” you turned your head back to greet the man as he approached your side. “I’ll get your payment in a moment, just let me finish this.”

You turned back to the planter in your lap, and you saw out of the corner of your eye as Arthur crouched down next to you, watching what you were doing with an unreadable expression. “What’s all this?” He asked as you tied a knot of the rope, testing the stability of the planter with a tug. When it held, you smiled proudly. Another one done. 

“This,” you gestured around you, “is my garden. And this,” you pointed to the now finished planter, “is one of the last planters I need to make before I replace all the old ones.”

“Odd place for a garden,” Arthur noted, standing up again. Again, he helped you up, and you smiled gratefully at him. He wasn’t wearing gloves this time, and you were able to feel the rough skin on yours. 

“I know,” you replied, wiping dirt from your hands on your skirt. “But it ain’t like I got any other place for it.”

“Whaddya mean? You’ve got a whole empty lawn,” he said with disbelief, and you shook your head.

“I guess I mean I can’t. I ain’t even supposed to have this.”

“You… can’t?”

“It ain’t ‘ladylike or proper’ to keep a garden, apparently,” you scoffed, and began to make your way back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you your money.”

A part of you hoped that he wouldn’t just take the money and leave as you walked back toward the house, but you wouldn’t blame him if he did. The two of you idly chatted, you leading the way back, Arthur not far behind. 

Looking back as you talked, you were able to appreciate him visually as you kept eye contact. He had the same red button up on  from earlier in the week, sleeves rolled up at the elbow, and the top two buttons undone. He had forgone the bandana around his neck entirely today, and you were thankful for it. He kept his hands on his gunbelt as he walked, the act far more enticing than it should be. You had to move your eyes before you could begin to stare. 

Reaching the house, Arthur held the door open for you, hesitantly following in after you. It was strange, seeing Arthur in your house properly. He looked very out of place, the antiquated decorations of high society a harsh contrast of the rugged outdoorsman. 

“I’m gonna go grab the money, so make yourself at home. And,” you pointed to his boots, “take those off. You tracked mud in my kitchen last time.”

He held his hands up defensively. “My apologies,” he chuckled, but he complied, setting his boots next to your shoes. It was almost familiar, seeing your shoes next to his, and a pang of longing for a life you’d never had or will have tore through your chest. 

Heading upstairs, you pushed those feelings away as you entered your bedroom. Reaching under the bed, you grabbed the lockbox you kept stashed, hidden between the mattress and the frame, setting it on your bed. Opening it, you grabbed a few bills from it, totalling to about five dollars. You pulled from your own personal money, not wanting Hans to question why he was suddenly down a bit of money when he returned. Tucking it back under, you hurriedly made your way back downstairs to Arthur.  

He hadn’t sat down yet. Instead, you watched as he traveled around the living room, examining the various photographs that decorated the shelves and the mantle of the fireplace. He was frowning as he looked over your and Hans’ wedding photo, but he broke his gaze from them as you stood next to him. “Here,” you handed him the money. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, taking the bills gently, putting them away in one of his pockets. 

The two of you stood in silence after that. You weren’t quite sure what to say. A part of you wanted to invite him to stay for a drink, but that was risky, pushing to something less than proper. He took the framed wedding photo into his hands, and the both of you observed it.

You looked like a spooked deer in the photo, your eyes wide and staring into the camera. Hans had his arm linked in yours, and it was the only time you’d seen him smile, even though it was forced. The dress you were wearing was a poofy mess of fabric and ribbon, and you remembered how much it itched your skin.

“The dress is ugly, I know,” you joke, getting a chuckle from the man. “I’d never choose to wear somethin’ like that.”

“It seems like you don’t got a choice in a lot of things,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with him; it was obvious you’d be lying. 

Arthur set the frame back on the fireplace mantle, and when his hand returned to his side, you felt it brush against yours, but a little too hard to be accidental. It was a simple yet comforting touch, and for a moment that loneliness tormenting you eased. 

But just as it came, it left, Arthur taking a few steps away from you. Turning your head to watch him, you felt disappointment overwhelm you. “I-” he cleared his throat. “I have to go.” 

“Okay,” you whispered as he got his boots back on. 

His mouth opened and shut as he struggled to formulate words, and he ended up just sighing. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.”

Nodding, you turned your attention back to the photo, not wanting him to see the sadness in your eyes. You heard the door latch shut, and like your shoes by the door, you were now alone.

You stayed inside for the rest of the night.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day arrived, and with it came rain. Lots of it.

It pounded against the roof of your house, and you found the sound of it comforting, distracting you from your miserable thoughts. Because of that, you spent most of the day in the attic cleaning, where you could feel the rain if you pressed your hand against the roof.

The following day was a clear one, not a single cloud in the sky. You finished up the planters, arranging them how you liked. You rewarded yourself with a long soak in the bath, spending nearly an hour in the tub. 

For both of those days, your mind kept wandering to Arthur, but not on the reason you thought it would. You kept going back to his comment about how you didn’t have a choice in a lot of things. In the back of your mind, you always knew that, but to hear it out loud, it had been staggering. 

You didn’t let yourself think about it for too long, however. The sacrifice of your own choice in life was a necessary one, you told yourself, and itIt was selfish of you to want otherwise. Your family would be out on the street if it wasn’t for you, and besides, you should be grateful for the life Hans has provided for you.

So why was it so hard to convince yourself to believe your thoughts?

You dreamed that night, for the first time in a while. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it still had you gasping when you woke. It was a domestic scene, and you were in the kitchen making breakfast. A sleep-laden Arthur came into the scene, brown hair tousled and in his face. He wrapped his arms around your body, bare chest pressing into your back, and he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. It felt so real, and you swore you could feel the scratch of his beard on your neck when you woke. 

Getting out of bed the next day had been a struggle. You angrily grumbled at the birds as they taunted you with their lighthearted music, and you debated rolling over a smashing a pillow over your head and going back to sleep. 

Eventually, you managed to leave the bed, getting dressed and eating breakfast like you’d done in all the previous days. The monotony was getting boring, but there wasn’t anything you could do about that. 

Today you worked on filling the planters with dirt, and it took a surprising amount of time to find some that wasn’t too rocky or too muddy, and of course it had to be a significant walk from the planters. All you had to transport the dirt was a small shovel that you stored in a hollow trunk nearby, and you spent the day carrying each precious shovelful across the forest

By the time early evening rolled around, you were exhausted, your hands cramping and shoulders aching from the shovel, but you now had six planters filled with dirt, and the baby sprouts placed in each one. The dirt was still damp enough from the rainfall earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about watering today.

Leaning your back against the fallen trunks, you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of the warm sun rays against your skin. The birds sounded less taunting than they did in the morning, and you let yourself get lost in their songs.

So lost, in fact, that you failed to notice when they stopped, spooked by the sound of a voice and footfalls. You jumped when your name was said rather loudly beside you, your eyes snapping open and staring at the creator of the sound. 

A concerned Arthur stood above you, hand extended like he was about to shake your shoulder. “Oh, hello Arthur,” you grinned up at him.

“You scared me there,” he half-laughed, pulling you to your feet. “I’ve been callin’ your name for a while now.”

“Well, as you can see,” you brushed your hands on your skirt, “I’m still very much alive.” You were afraid that the tense ending of your last interaction would’ve carried over to today, but you’re glad it didn’t. “So, whaddya think?” You gestured to your garden. 

“It’s… cute.”

“Cute?” You scoffed. “You mean to tell me I’ve been working all day for the last week just for it to be cute? You insult me, Arthur.”

Arthur laughed, and that damn smile adorned his lips. Looking away, you felt your cheeks warm.

“I left the money at the house again. C’mon.” 

The walk back to the house was short, like always, and Arthur asked you about the plants you were growing. You explained to him the way you’d found them earlier in the week, recalling the small little sprouts you’d found. 

“Plants are incredible in that way. No matter what the world throws at them, no matter what conditions they’re met with, they always seem to just… come back. Their resilience is incredible!” Looking back at Arthur, he was watching you with an indiscernible expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all poetic there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Arthur shook his head. “I like that, though. Reminds me of someone I know.”

“Oh? Who?” You were genuinely curious, wanting to know more about Arthur and the people he associated with. 

“There’s this amazin’ woman, who, no matter what anyone tells her or what society deems is right, does what she wants, does what makes her happy. And when she gets dragged down, I’ve seen her bounce right back up, ready to take on the world.”

“Maybe you’re the poetic one,” you teased. “She sounds like someone I want to meet.”

You missed the look that Arthur gave you, like he couldn’t believe you weren’t catching on. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Eventually the two of you came into the house, and Arthur lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right back, then you’ll be good to go.” You turned to head up the stairs, but you halted. “Unless…” Don’t you dare. “Unless you want to stay for dinner?” 

When he didn’t respond, you panicked a little. “You don’t have to, I just figured cause it’s almost dinnertime, you’d like somethin’ to eat.” Silence. “You know what, forget I said anythin’,” you looked away, embarrassed, and resumed entering the house. 

“You’re spoilin’ me, darlin’,” Arthur laughed breathlessly with a smile. 

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded, and a relieved but genuine smile fell on your lips. “You know where the living room is,” you laughed, toeing off your shoes. Arthur did the same, setting his boot next to yours again, and he made his way to the living room as you went upstairs. 

The process of grabbing the money was no different this time, and you were about to head back downstairs when you caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors in the bedroom.

Dirt streaked across your face from where you had wiped away sweat, and your clothes were in no better shape. Embarrassment once again overcame you, the ideals that had been ingrained into your brain for years making you feel so. No woman of your standing should be playing in the dirt, then inviting people into her home while covered in it. 

You quickly changed clothes, then headed into the en suite bathroom to wash down your face and body, even go so far as to fix up your hair, pulling out any debris that got caught in it. Satisfied, you headed back downstairs to Arthur, who sat on one of the various couches. He had taken his hat off, setting it next to him, and you watched him run his hands through it. 

“It wasn’t very nice of you to not tell me I was covered in dirt,” was what you said as you approached him, holding out the bills for him. “Sorry that it took so long.”

Arthur just chuckled, standing up in front of you, leaving his hat behind. He took the bills from you with a thankful nod of his head, tucking them into his pocket. “You missed a spot,” he said as he tucked the money away.

“Really?” You began to wipe at your face, frowning when Arthur began to laugh. “Where?”

“Here,” he muttered, and you felt two hands gently wrap around your wrists, tugging them away from your face. Releasing one, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe at your cheek, the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. His cerulean eyes flicked across your face, like he was trying to memorize the details of it, the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. “There,” he whispered, running the thumb across again for good measure before dropping his hand. 

Arthur stared at you for a moment, like even he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. All thoughts went out the window, your mind and legs jelly. He took a step back, giving an appropriate amount of room between the two of you. Don’t leave, you were pleading in your head. “I-I’ll get started on dinner,” you stammer out. “If you’d like to get washed up, the bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the left.”

He nodded, taking a few more steps back. “I’ll be right back, then.” And with that, he turned up the stairs, leaving you stunned, alone, in the living room. You ran your fingers over where his hand had just been, and you laughed with shock and delight. You expected to feel guilt, and you did, but it was heavily muffled by the sheer joy radiating in your chest. 

The sound of water rushing through the pipes of the house broke you out of your daze, your hand returning to your side. Right. Dinner. 

Despite the tiredness you felt from hauling dirt everywhere the entire day, you felt energized as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t going to make anything elaborate, mainly because you were starting to run low on supplies. You’d have to run to Rhodes sometime during the next week, using your own money, of course. 

Dinner was going to be two small steaks, with diced potatoes and grilled green beans. The smell of the food quickly permeated the kitchen, making your stomach grumble hungrily. Arthur emerged from the bathroom when dinner was over halfway done, startling you because you had your back to him, and because your mind was constantly distracted with thoughts of him. 

“That smells amazin’,” he commented, causing you to nearly drop the utensil you were using to flip the food. Turning, he held up his hands apologetically. 

“I should’ve had you keep your boots on. Your spurs are loud,” you grumbled lightheartedly. “How are you so quiet?” You kept having to turn your head to talk to him, so he walked up next to you at the stove.

“Years of practice,” Arthur responded, which didn’t clear anything up.

“Practice for what?” 

Arthur hesitated to speak, and you rolled your eyes. “Arthur, I caught you breakin’ into my house. If you’re a thief, just say it.”

“I ain’t a thief.” He replied defensively. 

“Sure, whatever you say. I just sure as hell know you ain’t a deputy.”

Arthur laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So why are you pretendin’ to be one?”

The man beside you sighed. “It’s a long story… and one I ain’t so sure I can tell yet.”

Silence fell over the two of you, the only sound the sizzling of food as it cooked. It was you who spoke first. “So who are you then, Arthur Morgan?”

Arthur didn’t respond at first, and you watched his struggle to come up with an answer. “I ain’t quite sure,” he finally said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

“You’re… not sure?”

He shrugged. “I’m a lot of things, I suppose. I guess I can’t just put it into one word."

“Alright, how ‘bout this then. Whenever you’re not here, what’re you doin’?”

“I… I’m workin’. Odd jobs and stuff like that.”

“Do those odd jobs include thievin’?”

Exasperated, Arthur  made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle. “I suppose it does. Houses, banks, trains. Whatever gets me money, I guess.”

Grinning at your small victory at his admission, you poked him lightly in the chest. “So you’re an outlaw then.”

“And if I am?”

It was your turn to shrug. “Doesn’t change anythin’, really.”

Arthur noticeably relaxed at your answer. “Good.”

“I’m assumin’ Dutch and Bill are outlaws too, then.”

“Jesus, woman, is this an interrogation?” You heard Arthur mutter, and you laughed. 

“Sorry, sorry, just curious.” Your gaze went back to the food, and you noticed that everything was almost done cooking. “Was I right though?”

“I… Yes.”

You hummed in response. Bill you were expecting, but the other man you weren’t. He looked like he belonged in high society with you, not living a life from the reaches of the law. Maybe appearances aren't always to be believed, then. “Thank you.”

Arthur raised a brow. “For?”

“Answering my questions. And not just brushing them off. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Arthur responded, not expecting thanks for such a simple thing. “You need any help with this?” He gestured to the food on the stove. “I ain’t much of a cook, but if you need help…”

Never once in your marriage had Hans offered to help you as you cooked, even when you had to make large amounts for dinner parties or guests. A warm smile found its way on your face, and you shook your head. “I think I got it. It’s almost done, anyway. You wanna grab some plates for me?” You pointed to a nearby cupboard. 

“‘Course.” Arthur stepped away from you, fulfilling your request, and your eyes followed him as he moved across the kitchen. Just like the shoes by the door, something about this just felt right, even though everything in your brain was screaming that this was wrong. This domesticity, this familiarity, everything was wrong.

But damn if it didn’t feel good, like something you didn't know was missing inside of you had been returned. 

Arthur returned a few moments later with two plates in his hand, setting them on the counter beside you. You spoke as you began to lead the food onto it. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll bring the plates out shortly. Utensils are in the drawer there” You ended with a point. 

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Want anythin’ to drink?”

“Whatever you’re havin’.” Arthur’s voice was distant as he moved away toward the dining room. 

Wine, then. The plates were hot in your hands as you brought them out. Arthur sat at one end of the table, where Hans would sit, and you set it down in front of him. You faltered for a second as you debated where to set yours. Normally, you’d sit on the other end of the table, with four chairs of space between you and Hans, but you figured it would be rude to do that right now. Besides, the selfish part of you wanted to be as close to Arthur as you could.

Leaving a chair’s space, you set your plate down before returning to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine, which you opened, and two glasses. Arthur stood when you returned, pulling your chair out, pushing you in when you sat. “You sure you’re an outlaw?” You joked, pouring out two glasses of the red liquid.

“I’m certain.” He took the glass of wine from you once you offered it. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course.” Picking up the utensils that Arthur had grabbed for the both of you, you both dug in. You kept an eye on Arthur as he took the first bite, feeling self conscious of your cooking. He stilled, mid-chew, and you immediately thought the worst. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. You took a bite, and you thought it didn’t taste bad, but you were partial to your own cooking. “That’s really good.”

Oh. “I’m glad.” You tried to not sound overly relieved. 

Arthur took another bite, groaning appreciatively. You really did try not to memorize the sound of it. “This is the best thing I’ve tasted in a while.”

“Do I even want to know what you possibly could’ve been eating that makes this taste incredible.”

“Probably not,” Arthur admitted. 

The rest of dinner was filled with idle chat, until Arthur asked a question that had you stopping mid-bite, fork handing in the air. “This ain’t poisoned, right?” He asked it as a joke, but there was a hint of genuine worry in his eyes.

“I sure hope not,” you responded, finishing the bite. Arthur didn’t elaborate further, only responding with a small noise. “Well, you can’t just ask that and then not explain. Is… is that something that’s happened before?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “There’s a pig farm north of here I stopped by two weeks ago. Friendly couple invited me in, we shared a drink, and before I knew it I was wakin’ up in a muddy pit with my money gone.” 

You had stared at him, shocked, as he recounted his story. “You’re kiddin’?”

“I wish I was. Wasn’t the first person they’d done it to, either. You wanna know the worst thing?” Arthur asked, leaning into you. You nodded, leaning in as well. “The couple? They were brother and sister, and their mother was their first victim.”

You were horrified and intrigued all at the same time. “Brother and sister? Oh my God,” you shuddered. “Did you get your money back?” Arthur nodded. “There are some weird folks out there.”

“You meet plenty of ‘em when you’re on the road. I don’t think there’s enough time in the world to tell you ‘bout them.” 

At the mention of time, you glanced out one of the nearby windows, finding it nearly pitch black outside. Arthur glanced outside as well, an apologetic look on his face when his eyes went back on you. “You have to go, don’t you?”

“I’m ‘fraid so,” Arthur sighed. You were happy to see that his plate had been entirely cleared, and he finished off the last of the wine in his glass. Standing, you cleared the table, bringing the items over and setting them in the sink. Arthur followed in behind you, carrying the half-full bottle of wine.

“Thank you, again,” you heard Arthur say, and you waved him off.

“You don’t gotta keep thankin’ me, Arthur. It was truly my pleasure.”

“Do you need help cleain’-”

“Arthur! Go!” You laughed, shooing him away. “I got this.”

Conceding, he headed to the doorway, putting his shoes on. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hat on the couch, about to be left behind. Quickly grabbing it, you set it on his head as he was leaning forward, securing his shoes. He let out a confused noise, but he smiled when he realized what you’d done. Standing up back at full height, he secured it on, flashing you a smile. “How’d I look?” He jested, a playful glint in his eye.

Like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Like an outlaw,” you responded. “You just need a cigar or somethin’ and you’d really look like one.”

“That reminds me…” Arthur dug into a sachet strapped across his body. Once he found what he was looking for he presented it to you. It was a small silver lighter, which looked hilariously small in his hands. “Since your last one was a ‘piece of shit’, I figured you’d want a new one.”

“For me?” You asked and Arthur responded with a look that read uh, yeah?

“It ain’t much, I know-”

“Thank you!” You cut him off, beaming brightly at him. “It means a lot that you remembered.”

“Alright, well…” you watched as he rubbed the back of neck, not knowing how to respond to the praise, “have a good night, darlin’.”

“Stay safe, Arthur.”

With a final nod, Arthur left. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you did neither, simply heading upstairs to your bedroom. Dishes could be done in the morning, you decided. 

Your mind raced as you got ready for the night. You knew he didn’t mean anything besides being nice with getting you the lighter, but it left your heart happy that someone not only listened to your grievances, small or large, and did something to fix them. 

Slipping under the sheets, you fiddled with it in your hands. You struck it, the spark catching almost immediately, creating a steady flame. Setting in on the nightstand beside you, you held on to the happiness you’d felt the entire night, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

You pretended to not feel a new sensation growing in your heart, something you wouldn’t dare name.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[ayylovley]

i’ve read somewhere that Sam’s aftercare would be the best so <4 - What their aftercare is like> for Sam, please? 🥹🥹 also Jake if possible bc he’s the sweetest boy ever 💕

Depending on how he feels about you and to me I’d think Jake would be the sweetest (Vasco too but I say Jake cuz he’s one of the only Lookism guys that would fuck you like a slut and then you’d have the sweetest aftercare)

4. after care with sameuel and jake

Samuel Seo

The small flame lights the end of Samuel’s cigarette when he pressed his thumb pad down on the lighter’s spark-wheel, letting him inhale a long good drag of the nicotine after that amazingly good fuck that made his ego rise even more. Tipping his head back, his lips make a ‘O’ shape to blow out the thick cloud of smoke in the air. You could hear your boyfriend practically groan from that hit, as you lay next to him with your hazy eyes looking up at smoke fade and disappear into the musky bedroom.

Finally he speaks, “was it good enough to get you in the bath, baby? How’s your legs?”

He asked that question with some condescension that can’t be ignored. Still, you appreciate how sweet he is to you after being with you long enough to make him take care of you however you’d like afterwards. “No it’s ok I don’t need a bath tonight. My legs do hurt though. I like it when you massage my inner thighs, babe.”

A grin pulls on his lips, “You got it, baby cakes.”

Sticking the cigarette in between his teeth, he watches you roll over slightly spreading your legs for him to rub the places you felt the most pain in.

A soft moan escaped her lips, despite your core throbbing from how many times he’s made you cum, you can’t help but want more of his touch when his inked hands rub so hard against your skin yet knows how to be gentle. Hearing your sounds encourages Samuel to keep going, using the thumb that was just on the spark-wheel to light the cigarette that remains in his mouth to really dig onto the space dangerously close to the folds.

Using one hand to slip the stick away from his lips, he leans down in need of kissing your opened mouth when you’re moaning from his massages like that. His strong hands roam up your body, still being gentle and caressing places that left you just… euphoric.

The little sounds of both of your lips sliding, you feel his fingers lift your chin a little bit to have your eyes open and glance into his with a hazy sight.

“You’re so sexy, baby. I just can’t help but fuck you so hard that you’d barely form words or make a sound.”

Ugh! Moments like this, when he uses his cockiness with being so gentle yet making it clear he still wants you, it does something to you. Especially the long, slow, wet kisses in times like this just fold you. You didn’t want to lose this moment but your body screaming for him to go again, you want to savor this moment like you always do.

Because it’s rare when Samuel is soft like this.

Jake Kim

Jake was such a sweet boyfriend to you, you’d melt in his hands and arms after a long hardcore fuck session that left you not being able to move. But with his treatment and aftercare you can feel almost completely fine the next day.

After all, he’s a romantic through and through.

As you lay there absolutely exhausted and sweaty, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to stand in the shower. So with his strong arms, you’re scooped up from the bed having his muscles flex a little. You blush as you’re lifted up from the ground to be taken to the bathroom where down the hallway you can hear soft music playing, and already spot the lights off, but a flicker of candles were in your vision. You gush hard at this gesture that leaves your heart aching.

“Jake…”

Jake smiles softly hearing the appreciation in your voice when he took you to the tub and played you carefully in the bubbly water. The heat kissing your body makes you moan a little when the soreness that was taking over your inner thighs felt better instantly. The soft sultry music playing on his phone increased the relaxation. “Aren’t you gonna join me?” With a chuckle he nods and you shift your body slightly to let him step in with you. With you on his lap, you melt into him when your arms rest on his, his muscular arms wrap around your waist protectively. Just setting the mood for this romanticism more.

Jake looks at you with heart eyes, he never thought he’d find someone honestly and let alone someone he got so lucky with. Using every love language in the book, his lips lower to your ear to whisper sweet nothings. Making you practically lovesick.

“Your eyes just make me forget about the world around us. And I can just beg you to let me kiss those lips.”

Gushing and putty in his hands, your eyebrows thread softly. “My god I, I love you so much, Jake.” He knows what you’re feeling in this moment because he feels it too.

“I love you more, (Y/N).”

#damn jake’s got gushy as hell #lookism comic #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism

[loveforsatoru]

Loved You Then, Love You Now- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 3: Kisses)

4/2/07:

The sun is beginning to rise as Shoko lazily walks around campus. She got back from her friend's place not too long ago, but decided to take a smoke break outside before going in. She didn’t want to wake you.

She’s leaning against the railing of the building, dozing off and letting her mind wander until she feels someone approach her. She looks to her side and it’s Suguru.

“You look roughed up.” She says, passing him her cigarette which he gladly accepts, taking a long drag.

“Yeah. I’ve been walking around town since last night. You should have seen what happened after you left.” He runs a hand through his hair a little too forcefully, like he was trying to rip the strands out.

“Calm down. At this rate, you’ll be bald before you hit 20. Tell me what happened.”

“Y/n and Satoru.” That's all he says, but it’s enough to give Shoko an idea of what he’s talking about.

“Oh yeah? What about them?” She smirks, chest swelling with pride. Only the second day and things are already happening. She can’t wait to see how this is going to play out in the long run.

“He had her in his arms or whatnot. She hugged back, gripping onto him like he was her lifeline. Pretty sure she was crying too. I don’t know why. He told me to stay quiet so as to not divert her attention away from him, and I did. I’ve been walking around since then, and haven't even gone back to my dorm room.” He flicks the cigarette off the railing, and begins picking at his bottom lip. He doesn’t remember the last time something like this has bothered him. He and Satoru rarely have any issues that deal with girls because they have different types. So why is it suddenly a problem when you’re here?

“So you’re jealous?” She asks, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. She doesn’t pull her stare away from the rising sun ahead of them.

“I don’t know? I don’t like her like that, so I don’t have a clue on why it’s bothering me this much. She’s been here for less than 48 hours but it feels like an eternity. I don’t want to bring it up to Satoru, not yet at least. I’d feel bad for coming in between them if he has feelings for her.” He groans, holding his head in the palms of his hands.

“It sounds to me like you’re in denial.”

“What are you talking about?”

She shakes her head, feeling like she’s the only one who has any common sense around here. “What do you think I’m talking about? You clearly have feelings for her. You just don’t want to admit it because you want to keep up some nonchalant attitude, carefree as if nothing bothers you. It’s fine to let go every once in a while. You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up.”

“I get what you mean, but it’s too early for me to decide if I have feelings for her or not. You know I’m not the type to rush into things without confirmation. The last thing I want to do is steal her away from Satoru just to find out that I was confused and don’t actually like her.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and makes a mocking face at him which he reciprocates.

“Whatever, do what you want. But don’t deny the fact that she is cute and you could potentially see yourself with her.”

“Whoever can’t notice how attractive she is must be blind, that’s undeniable, but I don’t want to hurt anyone in the process. Myself, Satoru and y/n included.”

“Mature as always.”

She's right, for as long as she’s known Suguru, he’s never made a decision without thinking it through. He has a strong sense of morality, most look up to him because of it.

“Did she tell you anything about it? Satoru, that is?” He asks.

She places her hands on her hips. “Nah, but I did make a bet with her.”

“What bet? You need to stop betting money. You’ll end up a broke gambler.”

“That she’d end up with either you or Satoru as her soulmate.”

He goes wide eyed, face palming at her response.

“What made you bet on that of all things?”

“It was just a hunch, but you know my hunches are rarely ever wrong, so I had a pretty good feeling about it and bet her 15,000 yen. She seemed interested in Satoru when she first got here, it was written all over her face. My guess is, she didn’t speak much to him at first because he gave off a strange impression by getting up in her face and everything. You know how he can be, but then she went on to realize he’s also sweet and calm, not always opening his mouth. That’s one of Satoru’s best charms. He can be loud and outgoing, but serious and romantic when he feels he should be.”

He listens intently to her explanation. Of course, neither of them have 100% confirmation if this was the case, but even then, Suguru felt his heart get struck with jealousy.

“I guess you’re right. Is she in her dorm right now? If she’s awake then I want to talk to her. I won’t bring this up or anything, but I’m the only one who hasn’t had a one on one conversation with her.” His tone is racked with nervousness. He feels like he’s about to throw up at something that shouldn’t matter to him.

“I doubt she’s awake, but I’ll go check.”

Shoko pushes her body off the railing and heads towards your shared dorm. She looks through the peephole and sees all the lights are off, not to her surprise. She picks up the key from under the doormat and slowly opens the door.

“Y/n?” She quietly calls out, but no response.

She walks further into the dorm room, not bothering to take off her shoes.

That’s when she sees you and Satoru curled up together. His head is dipped in the crook of your neck while you both hold each other. He protectively has both his arms around you while you cling to him. The sight makes her eyes soften. She walks over and pulls the blanket over the two of you who’ve been relying on each other's body heat to stay warm throughout the night.

She walks out with a small smile on her face. Suguru is still waiting by the railing.

“Is she in there?” He asks.

“Yeah, but she’s out cold. You’ll have to talk to her some other time.”

“What’s with the smile? Did something happen?”

“I doubt you’ll wanna see for yourself, but Satoru’s in there with her. If the world came crashing down right now, they’d die holding each other from the looks of it.”

He does nothing but nod.

“Good to know.”

It’s now quiet. Too quiet for either of their likings as awkward tension fills the air. What could this mean for the trio's friendship and their newly brewing one with you?

“Well, I’m off to sleep. Goodnight.” He waves her goodbye and shoves his hands in his pockets, walking away with heavy steps.

Shoko feels bad, but she won’t interfere. She’ll watch from the sidelines and offer advice when needed. There’s still time, anything could happen.

…

The sun beams through the cracks of the large sliding door. You don’t know what time it is, but you must’ve overslept.

You groan and rub the sleep out of your eyes, but when you try to get up, something is holding you down. You look to the side and see Satoru sleeping peacefully, arms snug around your waist, preventing you from getting up. You try to pry out of his grip, but it’s no use. He just holds onto you harder every time you attempt to get away from him. It’s not like you want to. You’d spend the rest of the day in bed with him if you could, but you need to get up and get yourself ready. Shoko’s not in bed, so you assume she must’ve gotten up already, not that you saw her come in at any point in the night anyway.

“Satoru,” You whisper in his ear, fighting off a giggle due to his bed head and face full of sleep.

He only mumbles a “What?” before pulling you back down onto him and falling back into his slumber.

You squeak at the sudden movement and blush at the close proximity. He looks so peaceful.

You take the time to closely look at his features. His long, white lashes, soft cheeks, but sharp jawline, and his plump lips pursed into a small pout.

You kiss the tip of his nose and tuck your hair behind your ears to prevent it from falling in his face. Missing a few classes won’t hurt. If there’s anything super important, Suguru or Shoko would come in to tell you guys.

Speaking of Suguru, you didn’t even get to say goodbye to him yesterday, You’ll have to make it up somehow.

But that thought quickly slips into the back of your mind when you see Satoru’s eyes staring right back at yours, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Hardly anyone can.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the way it picks up when you close the gap between your bodies.

“You.” His answer is plain and simple. You look up at him, expecting to see some form of teasing written on his face, but there wasn’t any. There was nothing but honesty in his words.

You feel a strange feeling overcome your body, it’s not bad, but it’s something you’ve never felt before. Years of isolation and abuse made you blind to these kinds of things. The sense of hope, happiness and love are all foreign to you. You can’t put your finger on why he’s making you feel this way. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Nobody’s ever told me that before, so I assumed you were joking, but it was clear that you weren’t and that confused me.”

He leans up on his elbows, threading his fingers through your hair and brings you in closer, his lips grazing against yours.

The air is thick, he hasn’t spoken a word. Not even a sound. His head is swirling with thoughts of you and how bad he wants to feel your lips on his.

You gulp, the closeness of your faces making you nervous. It’s like he’s playing a game with you, trying to see how long you can hold out before giving in.

“Have you ever kissed somebody before?” He whispers against your lips, his breathing heavy.

“No..” You’re insecure about missing out on so many regular teenage experiences, but no sorcerer is normal. Every one of them has their flaws. Some are just better at hiding it than others. Satoru happens to be one of them. His greatest flaw? Loving you.

“I’ll teach you.”

And he gently brings his lips to yours, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar sensation. His hand is cupping the side of your face while the other is settled on your thigh, massaging the skin underneath his fingertips.

You climb onto his lap, legs around his waist and hands on the back of his neck, digging into the skin. It burns, but he likes it. He falls against the pillows, but his hold on you doesn’t falter much like your lips moving in sync. His hands have left their previous locations and moved up, gripping onto your hips and kneading them with care, holding onto you like you’re the most fragile piece of glass. One wrong move and you’d break beneath his touch.

The world around you doesn’t exist right now. The atmosphere is still, quiet, everything you’re not used to. You can feel the intensity of Satoru’s feelings radiating off of him, like he’s been waiting years to do this. Only you could come into his life and make his mind spin with thoughts he’s never had before.

You reluctantly pull away for air, chest heaving and unmoving from your position on top of him, hands planted firmly against his toned abs with your legs straddling his waist. Your lips are glossed over and swollen, your shirt falling off the side of your shoulder. You look ethereal, like a goddess who came from Heaven down onto Earth in order to bless everyone with your beauty. It might be his new favorite sight.

He feels like a middle school boy in love. “How was it?”

“It was great..” There aren't enough words you could put together to describe what you feel. You want more. Need it, crave it.

But before you could dip your head back down onto his, the door to your dorm clicks open and Shoko stands at the entrance with a plastic bag in hand.

As she’s taking off her sweater and shoes, her gaze meets yours and embarrassment washes over you. Satoru does nothing but laugh, finding the awkward situation amusing. You quickly get off his lap and roll onto your respective side of the bed.

“What are you guys doing?! You seriously missed half the day for this?!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow. It’s that late already? It felt like the entire night had only been 5 minutes. “Half the day? What are you talking about?”

“It’s half past noon! Yaga was on my ass about where you two were and I had to cover saying you both got sick. You’re so lucky we didn’t do anything important today.” She grumbles, tossing you the bag before sprawling out on her bed.

“Sorryy, Shoko.” You catch the bag in your hands and begin sifting through it. “What’s in here?”

“A sandwich. I figured you’d be hungry, so I picked you something up from the convenience store. I wouldn’t have done that if I knew I’d walk in on you guys making out though.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. What time did you come back last night? I didn’t see you?”

“I got back hella late. You were fast asleep hours before, but I slept in Suguru’s dorm. Since this one made himself comfortable in ours and I didn’t want to third wheel.” She says, pointing at Satoru in which he playfully shrugs.

“Is there anything else for the rest of the day?” You unwrap the sandwich, taking a bite before feeding some to Satoru who keeps his eyes on you the entire time, not tearing away his peer for a second.

“No, surprisingly the cursed spirit rate has been low for the week, so we get the rest of the day off since there’s no missions or anything. They handed an easy grade 4 to the first years but that’s about it. We should go shopping though. The room is plain.” She sighs dramatically and tosses her hands up.

You feel Satoru’s hands beginning to roam your body once again. He has an arm behind his head while he gives you his best faux innocent look. You shoot him a glare before responding to Shoko, who could see everything going down, but chooses to ignore it to spare you some embarrassment.

“When do you want to go?”

“Right now.” She turns her attention to Satoru who is far too invested in you to notice the annoyance flooding out of Shoko’s voice for overdoing his stay. She clears her throat, but to no surprise, he doesn’t notice, or so he acts like it. He doesn’t care.

She gets off her bed and walks to yours, standing over it. You look at her, a piece of the sandwich in your mouth when she begins slapping and pushing Satoru to get him to leave. “Satoru! Out, out, out! This is my dorm too!”

He grumbles and gets up, throwing his sunglasses back on his face. “Fine, fine! You’re so lame.” But before he exits, he makes sure to give you one more tender kiss, running out immediately after once he sees Shoko’s seething expression.

She slams the door shut while you remain sat in bed like a child watching 2 siblings fight.

“So, are you gonna tell me what happened while I was gone?” She asks, crossing her arms and peering down at you as if she were your mother, ready to scold you for having a boy in your bed.

You shrink under her intense stare. “It was nothing like that! He just walked me home last night, came inside, and we went to bed..”

“Oh really? So why were you sitting on his lap when I came in? Hmm? Hmm?” With every word, she gets closer and closer to your face until your noses were practically touching.

“And I guess we kissed..”

“Just kissed, huh? I’m glad I walked in when I did. Anymore of that and he would’ve had to make a trip to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test.” As serious as she sounds, she finds joy in teasing you.

“Shoko!” You groan, pulling the covers completely over your head and burying yourself away. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry! Your secret's safe with me.” She smiles and gives you a playful wink, imitating people kissing with her hands. “So, are you still a virgin?”

Her question makes you go red in the face. “Of course I am! That was only my first kiss!”

“Can’t blame me for asking.” She shrugs. “You’re pretty, confident, know how to fend for yourself, a little naive which you need to be careful with, but aside from that, it’s only natural for most to assume you’ve already had your first time.”

“How am I naive?” You always figured you were pretty mature and tough skinned. Perhaps you were wrong.

“Not naive in a childish way if that's what you were thinking, but sometimes, you seem oblivious and distrusting to the world around you, like a lost soul in a sense. I don’t know if that comes from being shut away for most of your life, but you can’t seem to take hints. There’s nothing wrong with that, it just means you need to pay more attention to when people tell you things.”

You nod along, somewhat grasping what she’s saying.

“About Satoru..” She begins. “What do you think that was? The kiss and whatever you guys did the night before. Him being friendly or do you think he likes you?”

“I don’t know… at first I thought he was just being nice, but something about him makes me think it’s more than that.”

“That’s your problem. You don’t notice when people are trying to give you hints. If anyone else were in your shoes, their first thought would be that the other person has feelings for them. Ultimately, it ends up hurting and confusing the one you’re involved with if you play off their antics like it’s nothing. Do you know why you’re like this? Do you think it’s naivety or something else?”

“I don’t know… The way he acted earlier surprised me. I asked him what he was thinking about, he said me, and my first instinct was to ask why.”

Your response confuses her. What person in their right mind would ask why the one they spent the night with was thinking about them? “And why’s that?”

“I guess I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think he’d actually harbor feelings for someone like me.”

Someone like you? What the hell are you talking about?

The more you speak, the more she begins to worry. How are you saying all this with a straight face? No tears, no anger, no shouting. Nothing at all. It’s almost scary, uncanny. She knows if she felt that way, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you?”

“I just think I’m unloveable.”

“Who told you that?”

“It’s the one thing I’ve been told my entire life. It’s something you get used to and eventually becomes engraved into your head. I always thought the possibility of someone liking me was zero. I guess that also stems from my own insecurities of not feeling like I’m good enough.”

Shoko knows the Zenin Clan is awful, anyone with a brain in the Jujutsu Society is aware of that, but to think that it’d alter the way someone thinks and views things is on another level.

“Does Satoru know you feel this way?”

You shift around in your bed, sitting with your knees tucked under your chin. “No..”

“Do you plan on telling him?”

“Eventually, but it feels too early. I’ve only been here 2 days. I need to wrap my mind around everything first.”

“Alright, it’s up to you. But get ready so we can go furniture shopping.”

…

You and Shoko spent hours roaming around almost every furniture store in the area. Your feet are sore, arms about to fall off from the stuff you guys are carrying and she still wants to look at more.

“Shokoooo! This is way too much stuff! Do we really need all of this?” You complain, slacking forward in a hunchback position.

She’s barely breaking a sweat despite the 4 bags on each arm. “Of course we do. Our dorm is plain and boring. We’ll be spending the next year there, you know. It needs to be cozy, our own temporary home.”

“Yeah, but when summer breaks rolls around, you’ll go home and I’ll be left all alone in a dorm filled with things. I’ll start to get claustrophobia.”

She doesn’t want to question why you won’t go home for summer break. That’s self explanatory.

“I’m sure one of the guys wouldn’t mind letting you spend the summer with them.”

“I couldn’t possibly ask them for that big of a favor. It’s fine, I’ll rent a beach house for myself or something.”

“You underestimate how much they like you, but suit yourself. Let’s go check out some curtains!” She drags you by your arm, pulling you across the populated streets into yet another furniture store. Any more of this and you might just have to ask to switch roommates.

…

The walk back to school was horrid. You’re panting, sweating like a pig and dragging the bags to your dorm.

“This is all your fault. You have a shopping addiction and it needs to be checked.” You say, in between breaths.

She rolls her eyes and flips you off to which you dramatically gasp. You enjoy being around her, she gets you. Having a strong bond with another girl is nice. You spent years in your cramped room watching tv shows and there was always a pair of best friends that got through everything together. With each moment that goes by, you find yourself wanting that with Shoko. Her, your best friend for as long as she can.

You slump against the door of your dorm room, eager to get everything inside. Shoko fumbles through her purse, searching for the key.

“Hurry up! I need to lay down!”

“Shut up! You whine like a toddler.”

She finally undoes the lock and you rush inside, tossing the bags upon bags on the counter before laying down in bed, sighing as the soft mattress soothes the tension in your back.

But your taste of freedom and relief doesn’t last long when someone walks in through the dorm, calling your name.

“Y/n?”

You block out the voice with your pillows, pretending you can’t hear whoevers looking for you.

“She’s in her bed,” Shoko says.

The voice calls out again, “Y/n?”

You poke your head out, and Suguru is standing in front of you.

“Sorry if I’m bothering, but can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

You look back at Shoko and she motions for you to go ahead.

“Yeah sure, it’s no problem.”

You throw your legs off the bed and he leads you outside, watching your form as you walk.

You both sit down on a bench in front of the school fountain. Since he hasn’t said anything, you decide to start the conversation.

“Where’d you go last night? I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

He scratches the back of his head. He doesn’t want to say that Satoru told him to leave. “I had to go visit someone who came into town.”

“Sorry for not getting the chance to talk to you as much. I’ve been busy figuring some stuff out and Shoko asked me to go shopping with her. I wanted to apologize for not noticing you had left last night, but things came up and I completely forgot.”

The sound of your voice fills his ears as he listens attentively to your explanation and apology. Guilt was written all over your face for something that wasn’t your fault. It’s cute.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But What did you want to talk to me about?” You’re playing with the hem of your almost too short skirt that stops at your upper thighs. Suguru is shamelessly staring like a pervert who enjoys the sight way too much. He wants to touch you, feel you, be the one to stay in bed with you instead of Satoru, but he knows he can’t have that.. Yet.

“Satoru was with you last night, right?”

"Yeah," you nod, giving him confirmation he needs. He knows Shoko told him hours prior when they were talking at the railing, but he was hoping it was just his mind playing games on him.

Speak of the devil. Satoru approaches the two of you and wraps his arms around you from the back, gently gripping your jaw to meet his face with his long, slender fingers before giving you a kiss, but it’s different from the one you shared back in your dorm a few hours prior. It’s sweet, but mixed with something different. It’s possessive, sloppy as he chases your tongue with his own, mixing your saliva together. He has you nearly moaning in his mouth.

The sight makes Suguru’s blood boil and Satoru knows it.

You ultimately break away from the kiss, keeping your hand laced in his hair. “Hey, Satoru-”

Before you can get another word out, he sits down on the other side of the bench and pulls you onto his lap, letting his hands roam around your skirt. “Hi, angel. What are you guys talking about?”

Angel. That’s new.

“He was just-” You begin, but get cut off by Suguru.

“Nothing. I wanted to talk to her for a bit. It wasn’t important.”

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty nervous about something when you went into my dorm.” You say, tilting your head to the side.

Immediately, Satoru’s grip on you gets tighter.

“Yeah, Suguru. If you were nervous then something must be up.” He raises his eyebrows and attempts to mask his scowl with an airheaded smile, acting like he doesn’t know anything that’s going on.

Suguru begins to grow more impatient with the white haired boy. He doesn’t want to talk about this in front of you. “Leave it alone, Satoru. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, are you sure? I think it had everything to do with me.”

You turn your head away to look at something out in the distance and for that second, Suguru almost rips Satoru’s head off, shooting him the nastiest look.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Suguru retorts.

“I was just going to say we should go to the pool tonight after it closes. We could buy drinks, bring our own stuff and stay there until morning.” Satoru says, still holding you firmly on his lap.

“Why after is closes?” You ask.

Satoru begins to play with the ends of your hair. “It’s more fun. We’ll have the entire place to ourselves. Could you give Suguru and I a minute though? Tell Shoko about the plans for tonight too.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, but nod, giving him an “okay.”

“Thanks, angel.” He kisses you before you get up, walking back to your dorm room. He makes sure you’re far away enough to start talking to Suguru.

“Seriously, what were you talking to her about?” He stands up, balling his hands into fists which were currently inside his uniform pockets.

“It’s none of your business.” Suguru stays in his place on the bench, watching Satoru’s expression grow in irritation.

“Was it about last night? Were you trying to ask her what happened?”

“So what if I was?”

“It shouldn’t concern you. If you wanted to know anything, you should’ve just asked me.” Satoru’s voice leaks frustration.

Suguru now stands up as well. “But I wanted to hear it from her, not you.”

“Why? What difference does it make?”

“It doesn’t, but I wanted to talk to her and hear it from her. I was looking to get some sort of mental relief, but it didn’t do anything besides make things worse.”

Despite Suguru standing, Satoru still towers over him due to their difference in height.

“Mental relief? What are you talking about?”

“I think like her, Satoru. I’m sorry. I thought about it and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t serious, but I couldn’t help it. I keep thinking about her. How I want to get to know her better, kiss her, be with her, be in her.” Suguru says the last part with an edge in his voice, trying to get a rise out of Satoru and see how grave he’s taking this whole ordeal with your sudden enrollment and newfound position in their lives.

And it worked, Satoru pushes him and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, the fabric threatening to tear. “Suguru, don’t you ever fucking think of touching her, much less being the one to do that with her.”

He puts his hands up in protest, “Alright, alright. I wasn’t being serious about that part, but I do like her. I didn’t want to come between the two of you, I thought I should just let you know." He knows he told Shoko he wanted to think it through more, but he can’t think properly when it comes to you.

Satoru lets go and walks away back to their dorm without responding. The two of them rarely get into disagreements, but there’s certain things they don’t see eye to eye on. Morals, Suguru lives by them, Satoru hates them. And you, Suguru wants you, but Satoru is bound to you for eternity.

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