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theobsessivesideblog · 5 months

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Trust Issues

An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.

Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well

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He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness.

But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is.

He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight.

“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace.

“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”

“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.

You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.

He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having.

His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra.

“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”

He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong

“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?”

Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that.

“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”

“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”

“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”

“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”

His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”

You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.

“I need you to trust me, Astarion.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”

Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.”

Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him.

“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.

“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”

“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips.

“Maybe you should jog my memory?”

“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion

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atlabeth · 2 months

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true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath.

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.”

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target.

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.”

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?”

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.”

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them.

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.”

He chuckled. “So you are free?”

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?”

“I’m cursed,” Luke said.

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.”

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—”

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.”

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.”

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.”

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.”

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?”

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?"

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?”

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.”

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.”

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together.

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.”

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.”

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again.

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.”

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.”

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?”

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?”

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”

“Really,” you said dryly.

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.”

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.”

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?”

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you.

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan.

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.”

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it.

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though.

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that.

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?”

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.”

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said.

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.”

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.”

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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solarisfortuneia · 3 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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fraugwinska · 2 months

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Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut

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lazarusemma · 7 months

Text

Nov 6 - Cas is

Nov 11 - He’s

Nov 18 - Sam says Mia says journaling helps. Sure.

Nov 19 - Should’ve been me.

Nov 20 - Sam, if you’re reading this thing, I’ll kick your ass.

Nov 21 - Spaghetti for dinner. Cas still dead. Journaling still stupid.

Nov 24 - I should’ve said

Nov 25 - Should’ve told him.

Nov 26, Thanksgiving - Not a whole lot of thanks around here. Thanks for dying in front of me, man. Thanks for saying all that. Thanks for disappearing again before I

Nov 30 - C not back.

Dec 5 - 1 month. C gone. J quiet. S annoying.

Dec 6 - Least Sam’s alive.

Dec 8 - [drawing of Castiel, half sketched]

Dec 10 - Not much of a friggin’ artist huh.

Dec 26 - No miracle.

Dec 31 - Gonna be another year without

2021

Jan 1, New Year’s - Midnight alone. You should be here. You should

Jan 2 - I should’ve

Jan 5 - 2 months

Feb 5 - 3 months since I should’ve fucking kissed you.

Feb 28 - If this was a leap year man I bet you’d be back tomorrow you always did shit like that surprised the hell out of me.

Mar 1 - So it goes.

Mar 2 - S thought the library here had Vonnegut. Didn’t.

Mar 5 - 4 months Went to get a library card in town.

Mar 11 - “And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.”

Mar 30 - Sam might have a hunt for us. Don’t know if

Mar 31 - Turned it down. Passed it to Jody’s crew.

Apr 1, April Fool’s - Real funny C. Joke's over. Come back already.

Apr 9 - There’s things I can’t say things I’ve never been good at saying but you gotta know

Apr 29 - He didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t

May 5 - You died not knowing, you asshole. 6 months and you’re not back so I can’t tell you.

May 6 - You missed Star Wars day, you know.

May 7 - Didn’t even Han you. Well I didn't know did I.

May 8 - Did I?

May 9 - Maybe I

May 26 - “How nice — to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

June 5 - 7

July 5 - 8

Aug 5 - 9

Aug 6 - What if you don’t

Aug 10 - You missed my birthday. S’s too. J’s.

Aug 11 - If you can hear me

Aug 12 - What would he even

Sept 5 - Nearly crashed the car today. S had to drive. Banged up my head leaning on the window in the backseat like a kid. 10

Sept 6 - Researching.

Sept 7 - Ain’t fair you missed a whole year. Gonna have a lot of catch up to play when

Sept 8 - …when we get you back.

Sept 18 - Been 12 years. You believe that, Cas? Since I came back. Since you brought me back. Guess I hoped today would be the magic bullet to getting you back. Like you’d tip your head at me and say Hello Dean. And I’d tell you how I raised you from perdition. Whatever. Just a day I guess. Universe doesn’t care it’s our anniversary

Sept 19 - Still gonna say it though. When it works.

Oct 5 - 11. It’s gonna work

Oct 31, Halloween - Never got to put you in a dumb matching costume. Next year though.

Nov 4 - Can’t sleep. Sam says time is powerful magic or some shit like that. Says an anniversary can have echoes. So we’re trying it tomorrow. God, this better work. Cas, you hear me? We’re coming for you. I’ve been praying all year and I’m hearing nothing back. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Gonna get this stuck mouth of mine to make good. It’s just the words, even on paper, they don’t—Tomorrow though, tomorrow I’m telling you everything. Promise.

Nov 5 - Today.

Nov 6 - !!! 🙂🙂🙂🙂

^ heh. check out this dork

#spn #supernatural #destiel #remember remember the fifth of november #my writing #tumblr fic #em og post #wrote this at work lol

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gatheringbones · 9 months

Text

[“Poverty is embarrassing, shame inducing. Misery (misère), the French sociologist Eugène Buret once remarked, “is poverty felt morally.”

You feel it in the degradation rituals of the welfare office, where you are made to wait half a day for a ten-minute appointment with a caseworker who seems annoyed you showed up. You feel it when you go home to an apartment with cracked windows and cupboards full of cockroaches, an infestation the landlord blames on you. You feel it in how effortlessly poor people are omitted from movies and television shows and popular music and children’s books, erasures reminding you of your own irrelevance to wider society. You may begin to believe, in the quieter moments, the lies told about you. You avoid public places—parks, beaches, shopping districts, sporting arenas—knowing they weren’t built for you.

Poverty might consume your life, but it’s rarely embraced as an identity. It’s more socially acceptable today to disclose a mental illness than to tell someone you’re broke. When politicians propose antipoverty legislation, they say it will help “the middle class.” When social movement organizers mobilize for higher wages or housing justice, they announce that they are fighting on behalf of “working people” or “families” or “tenants” or “the many.” When the poor take to the streets, it’s usually not under the banner of poverty. There is no flag for poor rights, after all.

Poverty is diminished life and personhood. It changes how you think and prevents you from realizing your full potential. It shrinks the mental energy you can dedicate to decisions, forcing you to focus on the latest stressor—an overdue gas bill, a lost job—at the expense of everything else. When someone is shot dead, the children who live on that block perform much worse on cognitive tests in the days following the murder. The violence captures their minds. Time passes, and the effect fades until someone else is dropped.

Poverty can cause anyone to make decisions that look ill-advised and even downright stupid to those of us unbothered by scarcity. Have you ever sat in a hospital waiting room, watching the clock and praying for good news? You are there, locked on the present emergency, next to which all other concerns and responsibilities feel (and are) trivial. That experience is something like living in poverty. Behavioral scientists Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir call this “the bandwidth tax.” “Being poor,” they write, “reduces a person’s cognitive capacity more than going a full night without sleep.” When we are preoccupied by poverty, “we have less mind to give to the rest of life.” Poverty does not just deprive people of security and comfort; it siphons off their brainpower, too.”]

matthew desmond, from poverty: by america, 2023

#matthew desmond #brainspace #history stuff #currently reading #horror! horror! horror!

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st4rfckerz · 18 days

Text

The Serpent and The Lamb | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: dddne, religious themes, infidelity, masturbation (f), oral sex (m), unprotected sex, praise, aftercare, not proofread

summary: Your family’s beloved priest suggests at home tutoring to help you with your bible studies.

The weeks since that encounter with Father Anakin had been a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling conflicted and guilty. But you had promised him, and you couldn't break that trust. He continues to be your trusted priest, guiding you through your faith, but there's a new layer of understanding between you. Every touch, every whispered word, carries a heavier weight, a promise of more to come. You try to fight it, but the attraction is too strong, too consuming.

As you sit at dinner with your family, you couldn't help but think back to the last time you saw him. The memory still sent shivers down your spine, even though you knew it was wrong. You glanced around the table, watching your family enjoy their meal, before bringing your attention back to the food in front of you, forcing a smile onto your lips.

Your father cleared his throat, taking a sip from his glass of water. “So, I spoke to Father Anakin today,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “He was asking about you, sweetheart. Seems he missed your presence at church this past Sunday.”

“Oh?” you squeak trying to keep your voice casual, hoping your nerves didn't show. Last Sunday, instead of attending church as usual, you stayed home, tucked away in bed with a small cold. Your mom chimed in, recounting their brief conversation. “He asked how you were doing and expressed his concern for your well-being,” she said with a warm smile. “He truly cares for you, dear.”

“I appreciate his concern.” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Thoughts swarmed in your mind like bees to honey, questioning Anakin's motives for asking about you. Was it genuine concern? Or was there another reason behind his inquiries? A part of you couldn't help but wonder if he was as affected by your encounter as you were.

Upon hearing that you'll be attending church with them tomorrow, a pang of guilt hit you, knowing that your secret affair with Anakin was far from what God intended. You prayed silently, asking for forgiveness and guidance, seeking clarity on your path forward. Deep down, you longed for Anakin's touch again, craving the lust that had consumed you, while fearing the consequences it may bring.

The following day, you found yourself standing outside the church, heart racing in anticipation of seeing Anakin again. As you walked through the doors with your family, your eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, searching for a glimpse of his imposing figure. Anakin and his wife, Padme, approached you and your family, a serene smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment.

“Hello, Ma’am,” he greeted, extending a hand towards your mother. “How are you this lovely morning?” He turned to your dad next, shaking his hand firmly, the two men exchanging pleasantries while you stood nearby, trying to remain inconspicuous. Throughout their conversation, Anakin's gaze kept drifting back to you, a kind expression etched on his face that belied the intensity of their previous encounters. It was as if they were playing two different roles, one public and one private - a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Anakin's gaze turned towards you, his eyes softening with concern. "And how is our little church mouse doing?" he asked, addressing you directly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "We missed you last week."

Your cheeks flushed pink, heart racing in response to his words, and you nervously fidgeted with the small, silver cross necklace perched on your chest. "I’m well, thank you for asking," you managed to respond, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

Anakin turned to your dad again, adding, “Now that you’re here I should mention that we’ve started providing extra guidance to some of the younger parishioners. If you ever need help with the Bible, please feel free to have them reach out to me. Our home is always open for such discussions.” Your dad nodded appreciatively and nudged your arm with his elbow.

“It might be a good idea, dear.” Your dad nodded in agreement, adding that it would allow you more time with Anakin, which would benefit you spiritually. Anakin and Padmé walked away, their conversation seemingly innocuous, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy seeing them together. However, you quickly pushed it aside, and sat with your family to listen to today's sermon. Anakin began to speak, his words resonating through the hallowed halls, reminding you of the divine presence that should guide your life.

You knelt down to pray, your mind was flooded with images of Anakin, the serpent in the garden of your faith; his touch, his voice, and the intense feelings he evoked within you. The sacred space of the church seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its silent judgment as you struggled to focus on the words of prayer. Your heart raced, your breaths became shallow, and the line between your reality and fantasy blurred, threatening to drown you in a sea of forbidden desires and hidden sins. The holy water of the baptism seemed to lose its sanctity, tainted by the impurities of your thoughts, and you swear the cross of the rosary you held onto felt just as hot as your insides, like a branding iron searing its mark onto your palm. In the quietude of the church, enveloped by the scent of incense and the whispers of penance, you found yourself drowning in the whirlpool of your own transgressions, desperately seeking salvation in the arms of the man who had led you astray.

Confession time arrived, the somber atmosphere of the church amplifying the heaviness of the act. You stood in line, heart pounding in your chest, as you waited for your turn to enter the confessional. The dimly lit booth loomed ahead. Your palms felt clammy and your hands quivered slightly, as you tried to prepare yourself for the upcoming confrontation. Each person ahead of you seemed to move in slow motion, the minutes ticking by like hours, stretching the moment into an eternity.

You finally reach the confessional booth and sit on the little bench, the partition separating you from Father Anakin feeling as thin as gossamer. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows across the wooden walls, as if mocking your impending reckoning.

“Father, it’s me.” you whisper. You could hear his soft chuckle on the other side, his soothing words resonating through the screen that served as a link between you and him.

“Oh hello little lamb, I was waiting for you,” Anakin's voice resonated through the dimly lit confessional, his tone a swirl of kindness and authority, a perfect blend that had lured you in from the very beginning. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, struggling to keep the tremors at bay. “I don’t have any confessions today.”

Anakin's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone inquiring but also cautious.

“Well, I wanted to talk about the last time I was here.” you explained. Anakin leans in more towards the screen, and his voice drops down an octave.

“We can’t talk about this here, I’m running out of time,” he said, his words carrying a warning. “Listen, tell your parents that I’m having a session tomorrow at my house and we can talk there okay?” Anakin brings his hand up to the mesh screen and you brought your own hand up to meet his. The contact, fleeting as it was, sent a jolt through you and electrified your senses.

“2:30 tomorrow little lamb. Be there.” a hint of a smile played at the corners of Anakin's lips, a silent acknowledgement of your gesture, a promise of something more that lay beyond the confines of the church.

As you approached your parents, you could feel the weight of your lie pressing down on you, the guilt threatening to consume you. You forced a smile onto your lips, your voice steady as you spoke. "Father Anakin has invited me to his home tomorrow to review the Bible and discuss some aspects of our faith," you explained, your eyes darting between your mom and dad. "He believes it would be beneficial for me spiritually." Your heart raced as you awaited their response, praying that they would accept your explanation without suspicion.

Your mom nodded, her face reflecting concern but also curiosity. "That sounds like a good opportunity, dear. Just make sure you keep us informed." Your dad, ever the protector, added, "We trust Father Anakin, but we also want you to be safe. Make sure you let us know when you arrive and when you leave, okay?" You nodded, grateful for their trust, even as you knew you were leading them down a dangerous path. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the clock ticking down the minutes until you could flee to Anakin's embrace, the illicit thrill of your secret affair coursing through your veins.

౨ৎ

Later that night, you relentlessly tossed and turned in your bed, your mind consumed by thoughts of your family’s beloved priest. His touch, his voice, his intense gaze - each memory was a sharp blade, slicing through the layers of your deception, exposing your deepest desires.

The intensity of your feelings took you by surprise, the arousal coursing through your veins like fire. The sensation of your flesh against your fingertips caused prickly goosebumps to appear all over your arms and thighs as your fingers sank into your pajama shorts. A soft moan slipped past your lips as your fingers danced around your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers delved deep inside your aching cunt, your breaths became ragged and your body trembles with force.

You struggled to stifle your sweet moans, the sound of your surrender echoing in the silence of your room. Your orgasm was sudden, powerful, washing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and spent. The intensity of your climax had left you drenched in sweat, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your transgression.You laid still and stared up at your ceiling. your body still throbbing with pleasure, you knew that the price of your sin was a heavy burden, one that only Anakin could ease - at least for a moment, in the safety of his arms.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of tomorrow, the thrill of your secret rendezvous with Anakin.

౨ৎ

Through the hushed streets, you walked towards Anakin's home, the anticipation of your secret meeting thrumming in your veins. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced along the cobblestone paths. The temptation of the forbidden fruit was too sweet to resist, the pull of Anakin's darkness too strong. The confessional's warning seemed like a distant memory, the allure of your illicit acts were like a siren's song that called to you from within the walls of his home.

After knocking a few times on the big door decorated with a plaque reading ‘Skywalkers’ the door creaks open and Anakin stands there in the threshold, his eyes locking onto yours. “There you are, I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he greeted, his voice a blend of charm and command. “Come in, come in.” He beckoned you inside.

You stepped into Anakin's home, you couldn't help but notice the opulence that surrounded you. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the floors polished to a high shine. Your eyes roamed the room, taking in the grandeur of his sanctuary. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall, the flames crackling softly, casting a warm glow over the room. A plush sofa sat before the fire, inviting you to relax and surrender to the comfort it offered.

Anakin's voice was low and soothing as he guided you towards the plush sofa. “Please, sit down,” he urged, his eyes never leaving yours. “We have much to discuss, and I want you to feel comfortable.” As you settled onto the cushions, he took a seat beside you, his body radiating warmth. “I've taken the liberty of ensuring we are alone today. Padmé is not here to disturb us.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the implication clear. You sat down on the sofa, the soft cushions enveloping you in comfort.

“Are you ready to learn?” Anakin's question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a slight confusion creep in. The Bible? What happened to the real reason why you were here? You forced a smile onto your face, trying to hide your confusion. “Oh, yes,” you said, your voice steady. “I'd love to discuss the Bible with you.” Anakin's face lit up with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Excellent,” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “Let's dive right in, then.”

Anakin opened his Bible, the leather-bound book creaking softly as he flipped through its pages. “Let us discuss the nature of our relationship with God,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “In the book of Matthew, Chapter 22, verse 37, Jesus says, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’”

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “This is the greatest commandment, little dove. It is the foundation upon which all other relationships are built. But what does it truly mean to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sheepishly, not really knowing how to answer such a tainted question.

He closed the Bible, his gaze never leaving yours. “It means to surrender ourselves fully to Him, to trust in His will, and to obey His commands. It means to love Him more than anything else in this world, including ourselves.”

Anakin's eyes never left yours as he asked, “How do you communicate with God, little mouse? How do you express your love and devotion to Him?”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure of how to respond. You had always believed that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but Anakin's question made you realize that there was more to it than just speaking words. You looked down at your hands, feeling a sense of inadequacy. “I'm not sure,” you admitted. “I've always thought that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but I've never really felt like He's listening.”

Anakin's expression softened, his voice taking on a gentle tone.

“Why don’t you show me how you pray?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you obeyed, getting down on your knees before him. Your hands clasped together, your eyes closed in reverence. You began to speak, your voice a soft whisper as you poured out your heart to God. But as you prayed, you became aware of Anakin's gaze upon you. You could feel his eyes burning into your skin, his presence intense and overwhelming. Your words faltered, and you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an unreadable expression. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “So beautiful.”

Anakin's thumb ran along your bottom lip, you felt a jolt of arousal shoot through your body. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own. And when he slipped his thumb into your mouth, you felt a surge of desire wash over you. The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but suck gently on his thumb, eager to taste more. Anakin's eyes gleamed with desire as he watched you, his thumb moving in and out of your mouth with a slow, deliberate pace. You could feel his power and control, and it only added to the thrill of the moment.

“Such a good girl.” he coos sweetly, he removes his thumb from your mouth and begins to rake his hand through your soft hair. As you gazed up at Anakin, your eyes landed on the bulge in his pants. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out, your hand wrapping around his erection through the fabric. You could feel the heat emanating from him, and your palm began to move in slow, deliberate strokes.

“Can I help you Father?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly, his voice low and gravelly as he spoke. “Yes, please.”

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you unclasped the metal buckle and pulled it through the loops. The belt fell to the ground with a soft thud.

The moment he released his hard cock from the confines of his boxers, it sprang free, standing tall in front of you. Your eyes locked onto it, your mouth watering.

“Do you know what you’re doing angel?” he asks cautiously. His pupils were completely blown, making his eyes seem dark and intimidating.

“I know enough.” you give him a shy smile.

Anakin's fingers tightened in your hair, urging you forward. You leaned in, your lips brushing against the head of his cock, before you took him into your mouth. Anakin's breath hitched, his hand gripping your head as you began to suck on him, your tongue swirling around his shaft with a slow, unhurried pace.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” He purrs, his hand stroked your hair, a soft caress that sent shivers down your spine. “You're a natural at this. I knew I could trust you.” Anakin's hips began to buck, his thrusts both desperate and controlled. He groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. He quickly reached his peak, his hot seed spilling into your mouth.

“Swallow every drop, show me how devoted you are.” You swallowed eagerly, pleased to have brought him such satisfaction. As he pulled out of your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps, you looked up at him, adoration shining in your eyes.

Anakin pulled you in for a deep, carnal kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he devoured you. The taste of him still lingered on your lips. Then he lifts you up, takes off your panties, and places you on his lap with your body curled up against his. He ran his fingers along your wet folds, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

As you sat on Anakin's lap, you realized that this was the first time you had kissed him, your lips having only tasted him in another way. But in that moment, the line between the sacred and the profane blurred, the kiss a fusion of affection and the lingering taste of your sin.

The kiss broke and you looked deep into Anakin's eyes, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you Anakin.” you admitted boldly.

Anakin's beamed excitedly. “I want to see you do it this time, okay?” You hesitated, feeling a little shy, but Anakin's commanding gaze urged you on. “Don't be afraid, little lamb.” he reassured you, his voice a seductive growl. His words were a comfort, a balm for the guilt that nibbled at the edges of your conscience. You bit your lip, your confidence growing. You leaned forward, positioning yourself over his erection. Taking a deep breath, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his size and girth filling you. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you, the sensation both thrilling and overwhelming. He began to move in rhythm, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one driving deeper into you.

You looked into his eyes, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. “There you go, you got it.” Anakin says breathlessly.

You and Anakin found a steady rhythm, your movements synchronized. You rode him with a newfound confidence, your body moving in a way that seemed both foreign and exhilarating.

Anakin's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, a silent claim of ownership. “That’s my girl, taking cock like she was made for it.” he encouraged, his voice a low, commanding growl. “My big, strong girl.”

Your moans grew louder, your body responding to his words. You could feel the tension building within you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin,” you gasped, your voice tinged with desperation. “I n-need,”

He smiled, his eyes shimmering with a predatory intent. “What do you need, angel?” he asked, his voice a wicked whisper.

“Make me cum, please.” you panted, your body trembling with need.

“I got you sweet girl, let me hear you.” he ordered, his voice a low, commanding growl. You felt your body surrendering to your orgasm, the waves of ecstasy washing over you. You cried out his name as you came, your body shaking in his arms.

As you clung to him, your body still trembling, Anakin followed closely behind, his own release spilling into you. He groaned your name, his body shuddering as he found his own climax.

You collapsed onto his chest, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, Anakin wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I didn’t break you did I?” Anakin asks playfully as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“No, I’m fine.” you chuckle. Anakin's hands gently urged you to sit up on the couch cushion next to him, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Stay here one second.” he instructed, his voice a soft rumble. You remained in the living room while Anakin made his way to the bathroom, his body taut and powerful as he moved. You watched as he returned, a washcloth in hand, the steam from the warm water still clinging to the fabric. He approached you, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness.

“Lie back, angel,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble. “Let me take care of you.” Anakin knelt down in front of you, his hands gently wiping away the evidence of your sins. His movements were both tender and deliberate as he cleaned you up, his fingers tracing over your skin, lingering in places where he knew he could elicit a reaction. As he worked, his lips trailed kisses down your calf and along your inner thighs.

Once Anakin was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you put your panties back on, his hands lingering on your hips before withdrawing. “There, all clean now.” he murmured, his voice gentle as he smoothed down your skirt. He leans forward, his arms wrapping around you, his lips claiming yours in a tender kiss.

As you and Anakin shared a tender kiss, you heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock. You both froze, your hearts racing as the door slowly creaked open. Anakin quickly released you, his face a mask of calm as he turned to face whoever had entered the room. Padmé walked in, her smile bright and welcoming. She was completely oblivious to what had just taken place in the living room.

“Padme, honey,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and untroubled. “Did you have a nice day?”

Padme’s gaze shifted to you, her smile growing even wider. “Lovely to see you again,” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “I trust the lesson was enlightening?”

You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to regain your composure. “Yes, Padme, it was.” you answered, relief washing over you as the normalcy of the situation returned.

After a brief conversation, you excused yourself, claiming that you needed to head home. Anakin walked you to the door, his hand brushing against yours as he opened it for you. “See you soon, little lamb.” he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with promise. You gave him a small smile, your mind still reeling from the events that had just transpired.

As you left the house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The thrill of your transgression still coursed through your veins, mingling with the lingering guilt. But through it all, you couldn't deny the connection you had formed with Anakin. You walked home and the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts filled with the forbidden pleasures you had just experienced. You knew that you had crossed a line, one that would have far-reaching consequences.

But for now, all that mattered was the promise of more sinful delights to come, the weight of your sins growing heavier with each passing moment. You had given yourself to Anakin, both body and soul, and there was no turning back now.

#nai writes ୨୧ #priest!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #st4rfckerz

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milkteabinniechan · 1 month

Text

♡extra credit - seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY commissions // m.list

pairing: college student! Seungmin x fem reader

warnings: angst, slight dom, oral (f. receiving)

a/n: I absolutely love angst, bratty seungmin and this was so fun to write. I'd love to do more with seungminnie in the future<33 thank you for reading!

Seungmin’s pencil rolled back and forth on the table in front of him. You watched his hands push it up and down, right and left. You cleared your throat loudly to get his attention.

“Shouldn’t we get started?” you huffed.

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders, eyes unbreaking from the table.

“I don’t care. You’re the nerd, can’t you just tell me the answers?”

“That’s not really how tutoring works.” you remarked sarcastically.

Seungmin had failed his last three exams in the literature class you shared. Since you had scored the highest with almost all of the exams, your professor had asked you to help tutor Seungmin for the semester final. You loved literature and the class was your favorite part of the day. But now literature was a chore, it was a headache. Shakespeare had become daunting, Jane Austen had been mocking and Ernest Hemingway felt like you were drowning. Seungmin had fought you at every turn, every moment of your study session.

Can we just follow the lesson plan I made for today? Please?” you pleaded. You softly slid your lesson plan across the table towards him.

Seungmin’s eyes broke from his pencil and lazily glanced over the paper.

“God, you are such a nerd.” his words spat out sharp as he pushed the paper back across the table to you.

You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. This arrogant bastard. You had reached your breaking point.

“Forget it! You’re hopeless! I don’t care if you fail!” Your words matched his in sharpness and cadence. You could feel the anger bubbling inside of you. There was no stopping it now. You stood up abruptly from the table, your palms flat on the table. “Have fun taking this class again and again and AGAIN. I may be a nerd but at least I am going to graduate on time.”

You let out a deep breath. A breath that felt like it had been trapped there for months. You could feel your knees beginning to buckle from the rush of adrenaline, but you held your ground. Seungmin stayed seated, his eyes wide and glaring. His jaw clenched in frustration while he slowly rose from his seat. Silence hung heavy in the air between you. Your knees were beginning to shake now, but you kept a stern face. You would never show any weakness, not now. Finally, Seungmin opened his mouth to speak. You clenched your muscles bracing yourself for impact.

“That was mean,” his face began to move closer to yours, “like, really mean.” Your eyes locked with his, then down to his lips. You could feel yourself inching closer to him. All of a sudden, his mouth had pressed hard into yours. Your eyes fluttered back as the intensity of his mouth made your knees completely give out from underneath you. You started to lose your balance and attempted to break the kiss to gain your footing, but Seungmin had swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you. The kiss stayed locked as he lifted you up onto the table. You sat with you legs dangling off while Seungmin eased his waist in between your thighs. A fire was filling your core that was setting out to spread through your entire body. Your hips were starting to move on their own as you pulled Seungmin into you for a deeper kiss. His tongue forced its way into your open mouth with agressive flicks and jerks. Your hands found his fingers and were desperately begging to penetrate the heat building inside of you.

Seungmin unzipped your pants and started to pull down. He licked his lips like an animal ready to devour. Like a starving man lost in the desert, praying for an oasis. He wanted to drown so deep inside of you and never come up for air.

“Wait, I-I…” your words trailed off as Seungmin traced his thumb up and down, left and right over your swelling clit. You arched your back in response, lightning sensations were pulsating through your thighs like a perverted heartbeat.

“I want to make you come,” he growled, his jaw clenching again. “I want to watch you come.”

You locked eyes with him again. You had your hand in your mouth, biting down hard to keep from moaning too loud. You felt so exposed, but it felt strangely exciting. Seungmin slipped a finger gingerly inside of you, eager to see how wet he had made you.

“F-fuck…” you squeaked.

“How does it feel?” Seungmin let his whole finger disappear inside of you now. He turned his hand upward and let his thumb continue to run small, intricate circles around your clit.

“G-good…” you breathed out. You could feel your skin heating up as Seungmin’s finger picked up speed.

“I could recite a poem if you want? I know you like Plath.” his finger continued a steady pace.

“Yeah like you know any poetry…” you snarkily remarked through heavy breaths.

“If you come for me, I’ll follow your lesson plan.” He smirked up at you, firey eyes between your thighs, his arm moving headily.

You chuckled lightly. You wanted to come. You wanted so much more than a finger inside of you. But Seungmin had a reputation at University. You knew who he was and more importantly, you knew who you were. You were not this type of girl. But at least for this moment, for right now, you wanted to be the kind of girl that Seungmin wanted.

Seungmin’s thumb moved more vigorously as he felt your cunt clench around his finger. You were pulling him in so deliciously and all he wanted in the world was to see your climax. A litany of curse words poured from your innocent lips as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Seungmin could hardly believe how hard he was, watching you writhe and squirm on top of the table. He slid out his soaked finger and placed it in his mouth to get a full taste of you.

“Huh, nerd tastes good.”

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics

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holyplacechurch · 2 years

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Welcome To Holy Place Church How may we pray for you today? “Music Provided by the Whoop Triggerz Plus® App (http://www.WhoopTriggerz.com).” CCLI Streaming Plus License 21242130 Copyright license 21242123 Submit your prayer requests via the Holy Place Church website https://www.holyplacechurch.org Or via the Good Tidings Interdenominational Evangelistic Association website https://www.gtiea.org The simulcast is available live @7am everyday on Facebook, Twitch and YouTube. #praying4u #FaithPrayers #prayeroffaith #prayforme #newnanga #answeredprayers #prayingforyoutoday #prayer #mayweprayforyou #wantprayer #ineedprayer #intercession #prayerrequest #cowetacounty #intercessoryprayer #verseoftheday #helpmeplease #verseofthedayprayer #churchplant #churchplanters #helpmeplantthelordschurch #whyamihere #amen #prayerworks #prayerstillworks #forgiven #dailyprayer #faith #salvation #forgiveness #prophetic #repentance #tryjesus

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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months

Note

may i leave the suggestion of poly!marauders with a clumsy!reader

i just KNOW they would be stressed constantly

yes you may, hunny! thanks so much for requesting! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: mentions of injury, swearing

773 words

You were hoping and praying that the sound of your hip smacking against the doorknob would go unnoticed by your boyfriends, but much to your dismay, Remus’ head had spun around to look at you, and he quirked a brow at your slip-up. He was looking at you with much judgment, but there was playfulness glinting in his amber irises.

“Again, dove? That’s like the fourth time today.” His voice was teasing but his features were laced in concern.

“No…” you denied. You weren’t technically lying, because it was actually the sixth or seventh.

“At this rate we’re gonna have to take all the doorknobs off.” James teased, making you roll your eyes.

Before you could think of a response, Sirius cut in. “I’m not sure that would help Prongs, they’re determined to bump into everything.”

“I don’t bump into everything. Stop being so dramatic.” You put all your focus into walking steadily into the kitchen, not wanting to prove their point even further.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Sirius said, in a tone that clearly showed he did not believe you. You ignored him, going to the cupboard to grab a cup, only you ended up failing miserably. The cup slipped from your grip, bouncing off the shelf, hitting the counter, and rolling onto the ground, ending up by Sirius’ feet. (This is the reason you had plastic cups)

“Wha-” James struggled through barking laughter. “What were you just saying, gorgeous?” You took it in stride, marching over to Sirius to pick up the cup.

Unfortunately, you forgot that Sirius is himself, and he took your position as an opportunity to pinch your ass, making you stumble and slip backwards. You would’ve fallen if he hadn't caught you.

“Don’t be mean Pads, you know they’re jumpy.” James scolded his boyfriend.

“I know, it’s just so funny. They’re like a little baby fawn.” He teased as you wormed your way out of his grasp defiantly.

“It’s not funny, it’s worrying.” Remus scolded the two other boys, beckoning you over. You happily took the escape, deciding you would take his coddling over their bullying. Remus grabbed your arm, trying to pull you into him, but you hissed suddenly. Remus looked confused, but it was James who spoke up.

“Shit, baby! I didn’t even notice that.” The time it took for you to realize what he was talking about was very little, remembering the blooming bruise that spread over your upper arm.

“Ouch, lovely.” Remus sympathized, though you knew you were in for a telling off soon. “How have you done that?”

“I- I don’t remember.” You admitted, shamefully.

“What do you mean you don’t remember? You have a bruise the size of Asia on your arm!” James said, exasperated. He was being dramatic, as is his usual fashion when it came to you.

“I don’t know, it just showed up.” You said, cheeks flaming at the attention.

“A bruise like that doesn’t just ‘show up.’” Sirius said back, equal parts teasing and stressed.

“I probably just bumped it on something.” You floundered, very much ready for this conversation to be over. You honestly didn’t know what they expected, as much as you would never be caught admitting it, you were quite clumsy. There were usually a myriad of bruises littering your skin, varying in color and age from bumping into things or falling over. Not to mention the scars and scrapes on your hands from kitchen or craft accidents. You had to admit, you gave your boyfriends a fair amount of injuries to fuss over.

And fuss they did.

“Well we knew that.” Sirius snarked back, still loving as ever. “The issue is that you bump into things so often you don’t remember specific occasions. I mean, come on ba-"

“Settle.” Remus cut his eyes to Sirius. Despite how much it seemed like he was picking on you, it came from a place of concern, much like James’ babying and Remus’ scolding. You softened at their worried expressions.

“Look, I’ll try to be more careful, okay?” You said, threading your fingers into Remus’ mousy hair and giving a reassuring smile to the other two boys.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” James consoled. “We just get protective, you know that. We don’t like you getting hurt, especially when you ignore it.” He gave you a knowing look. “Just look after yourself, for our sake.”

“Okay,” You sighed, overdramatic. “I guess I’ll try, it’s such intense labor, though.” You said sarcastically, walking away to the bathroom and hearing your boys chuckle.

Whack! Your thigh collided with the end table.

“That’s it!” Sirius called. “I’m ordering you a bubble suit.”

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 3 months

Note

I wanted to request something for Husk, if that's alright! Their rooms are next to each other, and Husk just so happens to hear her cry. Reader is not being loud, she just couldn't hold back a particularly strong sob and he heard her. He keeps listening and now that he is paying close attention, he can hear soft sobbing. He goes to check in on her and she apologizes for waking him up, but is too shy to admit she was crying right away. I would love to see some fluff/comfort! Thank you <3

This is adorable! I love love love writing fluff. Thanks for the request! This turned out a bit angstier than I planned, but I think it balances out nicely with the fluff. If you want one that's just purely fluff, please message me and I will be happy to rewrite/write another! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Drink Spiking, Alcohol

Word Count: 1809

“This Night has Opened my Eyes” - Husk x Reader

Today had been a long day. And that’s the understatement of the year. This was the day that you and the other residents of the hotel had been planning on for months… the war against the angels. You had prepped weapons, defense, and plans all of yesterday, but nothing could have stopped the inevitable bloodshed that accompanied war. Angels were cruel, fierce beings that didn't care about the lives of sinners so long as they increased their “kill count.” They hunt sinners for sport, and nothing, not even the princess of Hell, was going to stand in their way.

This was evident when Adam and the angels mercilessly broke through the forcefield that Alastor had cast around the hotel. Fuck. That was you and your friends’ only shot at winning this battle. As you scan your environment to assess how many angels are coming at you, you also assess the casualties among your newly found “battalion”. So many of Rosie’s cannibals were surrounding you, dead. The sight was awful. Families, all with hopes and dreams, lay crushed beneath your feet. You look around for any signs of life from your friends, seeing Angel wielding 6 machine guns and… was that Sir Pentious and Cherri kissing? Never mind that, you had one person and one person only on your mind… your boyfriend Husk. Last night, you were expressing how worried you are about the possibility that one (or both) of you may not make it out of this war alive. He assured you that he could hold his own, particularly worried about you. You trusted your fighting abilities, but if something happened to Husk and you weren’t there to help him, you don't think you would ever be able to forgive yourself.

You find yourself facing your worst nightmare after fighting off two particularly feisty exterminators. You turn a corner of the horribly wrecked hotel to continue your search for Husk, only to be met with your boyfriend’s injured body laying on the ground, struggling to crawl to shelter.

“HUSK!” you shout, running to him and helping him up.

When your hands moved to his back to guide him to shelter, you noticed that something was missing. His - his wings. They were brutally ripped off of his back, leaving only grotesque stubs where they used to be.

“Oh- Oh my Satan, we need to get you the fuck out of here. Why didn't you call for me? For anyone?!”

“I- I didn't want anyone-” he struggles to finish his sentence, fading in and out of consciousness. “I didn't want anyone to get hurt”

You managed to essentially drag him just out of sight of the exterminators, behind a particularly dull-looking building. You used any loose pieces of clothing that you could spare to put together a makeshift-bandage, only half-stopping the blood that was seeping from his back.

“I’m sorry… you’ll be okay. Please be okay. I’ll make you okay.” you say as he winces from the pain.

And for the first time in your life, you prayed.

To whom, it was unknown. I doubt the prayers of the damned are granted, but you needed more than anything for this to just be a bad dream.

************************************************************************

As you wake up, your body is drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaming down your face. You realize that this was all some fucked up dream, but the fact that it could become a reality very soon terrified you. You simply couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face, small sobs escaping from your lips.

You reach your side table for your phone, only to see that it’s 3:42 AM. Damn, you really hoped you weren’t being too loud right now. Stifling tears, you notice several missed texts from Angel:

_____________________________________________________________

[12:00 AM]

💬Angel: I saw what he put in there, i dont think its deadly… might give you a wild trip tho. but i gave the guy a good beat down on ur behalf lmaooo ;) Left u in ur room to sleep it off, didnt want any idiots to seeya like that

[12:34 AM]

💬Angel: bitch whyd you lock ur door :(

[1:00 AM]

💬Angel: Y/N are you up yet?????

💬Angel: shitshitshitshit

💬Angel: Pls text me when you get up!!!!

____________________________________________________________

Reading these texts suddenly flooded you with memories of the night before (or, really, a couple hours ago.)

You and Angel Dust had decided that, fuck it, if the extermination was coming in a few days, you might as well party like there’s no tomorrow. Heading to the nearest club, you guzzled beelzejuice like it was the last thing in Hell and maybeee fucked around and flirted with a couple guys. As one of the guys you were talking to brought you a drink while Angel was on the dance floor, you downed it and started dancing with him. It wasn’t until your vision started fading that you realized that this asshole spiked your drink. Luckily, Angel was able to spot the signs from across the way and immediately scooped you up and brought you back to the hotel, screaming at the guy as you left. According to his text, I guess Angel went back to the club and fucked the guy up a bit, which made you feel a bit better. Sometimes experiences like these remind you that, yeah, you’re still in Hell.

Remembering this only made you cry more. The tears flowed for a multitude of reasons: you were so angry that someone had the balls to spike your drink - to spike ANYONE’S drink! You were also so mad at yourself for allowing some rando to buy you a drink without you looking. You were also so grateful that Angel had such a watchful eye and cared for you so much. You guessed that the hallucinogen the man spiked you with was the cause of your terrifyingly hyper-realistic dream.

You then remember what time it is, realizing that you had let a particularly loud sob escape your mouth. Shit. You really hoped that nobody woke up because of your crying. That would be embarrassing… to say the least. This thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Damnit.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“It’s me,” Husk replies.

Husk had heard your quiet sobs from the next room over and was listening by your door. As he heard that the cries weren’t dissipating, he decided to check on you. You quickly tried to hide any evidence that you were crying, wiping your tears on your sleeve and trying to eliminate any signs of redness on your face.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Can I come in?” Husk replies.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” you say, waiting for him to enter.

“Hello?” you ask.

“It’s locked.” he replies.

You remember Angel’s text with a small laugh and get up to open your door, taking one more precaution to wipe your face before doing so. You open the door to see Husk’s tired yet worried face.

“You ok?” you ask him.

“I think I should be asking you that.” he says while entering your room, leaving you standing at the doorway.

“Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I heard you crying from my room.” he says, looking at you worriedly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s, like, 4AM.” you reply, trying to seem nonchalant and like he was the one interrupting your sleep.

“Okay, I may be tired, but I’m not dumb.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I wasn’t crying! I was probably just snoring or something.” You take his hand into yours. “But, I appreciate you checking up on me. Okaygoodnightseeyouinthemorningbyeeeeee!” you say while trying to lead him to the door.

“Sure.” he says, clearly calling your bluff. “You do know you can always talk to me, right? That’s what I’m here for, hon.” he says, genuinely looking into your eyes while holding both of your hands. His pure care for you overpowers any urge to hide your emotions from him, and you exhale.

“Fine. I was crying.” you confess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess.” you lead him back to sit on your bed.

“I- I went out with Angel last night. I think, if i can remember, some guy spiked my drink with what I assume is a hallucinogen.” You could see Husk becoming visibly angry. “Anyways, Angel got me out of there before anything bad could happen. I guess I came back up here and passed out, but I had a horrible dream.”

“You better have a description of the guy so I can beat his ass to a bloody pulp-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The nightmare… it was-”

“That’s what this is all about? It couldn’t have been that bad-” he asks.

“No, you don't get it. It was extermination day… the angels were ruthless. I looked around and I… I couldn't find you anywhere. I fought angels and searched relentlessly for you, only to find you left for dead with your-” you shift in your seat, the mere thought of the nightmare making you upset. “-With your wings torn off. I tried saving you, but I just knew… I just knew you wouldn't make it.”

As you stare into the distance, clearly bothered, Husk realizes just how much this scared you. When he first heard that all of this commotion was about a nightmare, he was surprised. You weren’t exactly one to get too emotional at the slightest of things, so this was new for you. But Husk realized why this was different. This nightmare was a very, very real possibility and a decently rational fear. There really was no telling what would happen come extermination day.

“How about this,” he says, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“Tonight, we forget about all of this. Extermination, angels, all of it. I’ll sleep in here and we can cuddle, you can talk to me or just fall asleep. We can sleep in as late as you want and just be here, in this room, right now. Just in this moment, you and I. How does that sound?” He asks.

This tenderness from Husk, though he is your boyfriend, was refreshing. He truly knew how to calm you down when you needed it most.

Nodding your head, you both get under the warm covers of your bed. You rest your head on Husk’s chest, savoring the slow movements of his breaths. As he moves his hand to stroke your hair, you slowly start to fall into a deep and peaceful slumber. As you both basked in each other’s warmth, Husk’s soothing purring made its way into your ears, the music of your dreams. No amount of money in Hell could get you to gamble away the pure jackpot you held in your arms on this night.

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still-with-koo · 1 year

Text

Stay | JJK

summary: when a creepy stranger follows you to your new job, your best friend jungkook makes sure he never does it again. but now he’s hurt and you’re determined to tend to his wounds, no matter how awkward if feels.

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 5,778

warnings/genre/rating: 17+, best friends to lovers; swearing; mentions of violence and bruises; insinuation of stalking; emotional distress; kissing; romantic touching; a bit of jealousy; vague reference to family estrangement; in this world, jungkook likes coffee but you don’t; and this is all obviously made up, none of it’s real

a/n: look, idk what this is. it just happened while i was missing a cute someone. having a really hard time writing rn so apologies if this isn’t what you were expecting. maybe you’ll like it (i hope so!)

The last few hours of your shift pass quietly.

You weren’t expecting any customers at this hour, especially given the warming temperatures, although convenience stores do tend to have some weirdos walk in at odd hours.

You duck below the front counter to clean the glass encasing the lottery tickets and hear the front door chime.

Quickly removing your hand, you start locking up the case when you hear something land on top of the counter. Tilting your head up, you see two Starbucks cups sat atop the counter.

“We don’t—“

When you meet the eyes of the customer, you realize it’s Jungkook.

“Done yet?”

“Not yet,” you reply, sighing as you glance at the clock behind you. “Nearly an hour left.”

Jungkook sighs. “You need a different job,” he says, looking over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pocket. “ I have a bad feeling about those dudes hanging out front.”

You look past him and shake your head.

You recognize one of the guys, the same guy that asked you out a few weeks ago. The one you’re certain belongs to some gang or mafia or something. You wonder if he thinks you may change your mind if you see him around enough times.

Little does he know, he’s the reason you’ve been applying to dozens of jobs to get out of this hellhole and as far from him as possible.

But you haven’t had much luck yet and you can’t afford to be jobless.

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. I can handle them. Anyways,” you stop for a second, pointing at the cups. “One of these for me?”

“No, I need both of these if I gotta listen to you.”

“This one better not be coffee or I’ll—“

You grab the one closest to you, sniffing the warm chocolate aroma and sighing in relief.

“I asked them to spike it with espresso.”

“Jerk,” you reply, smiling with the knowledge that Jungkook would never forget your drink order. He knows how much you despise coffee.

One by one, customers leave the coffee shop and you don’t blame them. With the number of mistakes the new barista is making, spilling drinks on the floor, on himself, on customers, you would be inviting a burn just to stay within 10 feet of him.

But you remain standing, grimacing every time one of the customers walks out with rather harsh parting words.

Too harsh, considering that his face probably drew in far more customers than the small shop usually sees.

Finally, you’re next in the line.

Well, you’re now the only person left in line.

When he sees you, his face brightens up tenfold.

“Y/N!! I didn’t expect you here. Hi!”

You step forward and smile at the beautiful boy behind the counter, hoping and praying that the warmth in your cheeks is not translating onto your skin.

“Hi Taehyung! Jungkook told me today was your first day so of course I had to come. How is it going?”

“Good,” is the first word out of his mouth but when you glance at the carnage of spilled drinks being wiped up by another worker, he quickly adds, “But it could be better. I guess I have much more to learn.” The way he scratches the nape of his neck is unexpectedly endearing.

“Let me make you a drink. You hit me as an iced Americano drinker, right?”

Iced Americano. The most repulsive, rancid drink on the menu.

“Yep, mhmm. That’s my drink.”

This is a new low. You’re not proud of yourself for folding but after all the mistakes he made today, you don’t have the heart to add another one to the list.

He prepares it quickly and regretfully manages not to spill it on you. As you take your first sip, the door to the coffee shop opens up behind you.

“Jungkook! You made it, buddy.”

Shit.

You wish the ground could swallow you whole when you notice Jungkook in your periphery, staring at the drink now leaving your lips, your throat twitching from having to push the vile liquid down it.

“Is that… coffee?”

“Haven’t seen much of you lately. So this is where you work now?”

You drum your fingers along the counter of the coffee shop, trying not to let your panic show on your face. You don’t even bother looking at the guy, the same one that fuelled your desire to leave your old job. You assumed you would never have to see him again once you found a new place to work but you were wrong.

With some effort, you manage to muster up your best customer service smile. “What would you like to order?”

He steps closer and you can almost imagine his smug expression as you look past him, trying your best to avoid eye contact.

“What drink can I buy you, beautiful?”

You flinch at the last word, scrunching up your nose as if something smells. You can smell the bullshit on him.

You take one deep inhale and straighten up to face him head on, locking eyes with the creep.

“I don’t want a drink from you. Ever. So either order something for yourself or leave the shop.”

He chuckles. “Don’t get emotional, beautiful. It’s just one drink.”

You scoff, amazed at his audacity.

“Look, I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

“Come on, it’s just one drink—“

“She asked you to leave her alone. That means you leave her alone.”

Taehyung is now standing between you and the man, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Why don’t you butt out, man. I’m just talking here.”

“No,” you interject, pushing Taehyung gently aside as you face the creep again, “I’m done talking to you. Are you going to leave or would you prefer the cops escort you?”

“Open up, Y/N. I know you’re home.”

You run to the peephole in your apartment and see Jungkook standing on the other side, pacing back and forth with his hands in fists.

“Now, Y/N, or I’m breaking the door down.”

When you open the door, he practically jumps at you, grabbing your shoulders as he scans your face and then looks at the rest of you. “Are you ok, Y/N? Did he hurt you? Give me his name.”

You realize Taehyung must have told him what happened. You grab Jungkook’s wrist and bring him to your couch, guiding him down as you sit down beside him.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. Perfectly fine. He just asked me out again and I said no. Nothing else happened.”

Jungkook looks relieved. Then he turns back to you.

“Again? You know him?”

“It’s… no, not really. Just some guy.”

You avoid his eyes, picking at a thread on your jeans. He puts his hand on yours.

“Tell me.”

“It’s no one. You don’t know him.”

“Y/N…”

You sigh. “It’s that guy you saw hanging out in front of the convenience store. He had asked me out back then and somehow found me at the coffee shop today. But don’t worry, I told him…” You pause when you notice his eyes clouding over, seemingly in a trance as he stands up, hands tightening into a fist.

“Jungkook?”

“It was the same guy? You’re sure?” He’s looking at you but you know he doesn’t see you. He sees him.

You stand up to face him directly, trying to wade through the fog in his eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jungkook. He won’t—“ He doesn’t wait for you to finish as he pulls his hood over his head, slamming your door behind him.

You run out into the hall but he’s already gone.

Jungkook isn’t responding to your texts or calls. You’ve spent the last two and a half hours walking the streets trying to find him, terrified he might do something incredibly dangerous.

He has a habit of being overprotective and you’re worried he might land himself in the hospital again.

Or worse.

You scan every possible spot he may be, checking in with Taehyung every few minutes ever since you asked him to join the search, but so far neither of you have had any luck.

It’s cold and you can’t stop the disturbing thoughts, the ones with a badly hurt Jungkook. You’re hoping Jungkook doesn’t find him. That asshole is undoubtedly dangerous and if he happens to be with the thugs he usually surrounds himself with, you can’t bear to imagine what they’d do to Jungkook.

A few more hours pass and Taehyung’s roommate forces him to come home, leaving you to continue the search on your own.

You feel helpless and completely alone, letting your feet guide you as you continue to beg the universe to let you find Jungkook safe and sound.

Without realizing it, you’re in the middle of the park where you and Jungkook first met. You look up, almost pleading by now and feel droplets hit your face. You didn’t even realize it was raining.

“Y/N…?”

You turn around to see Jungkook standing a few metres away. Without warning you cry out, hot tears free falling onto your cheeks. Through the tears, you can only see the outline of Jungkook standing in the moon light and wonder if he is really there or if he’s just a beautiful mirage.

“Where were you,” you shout through the tears, nearly wailing at this point. “Why didn’t you answer my calls, idiot? I thought you…you might…”

Jungkook had started walking towards you at some point because his arms are now wrapped around you, his hand cradling your head against his chest. “Shhh, I’m here.”

“I thought you might…might be hurt,” you mutter between breaths, your tears spilling onto his chest and you’re not sure if he even understands what you’re saying.

“I’m ok. Really.”

You sniffle, and Jungkook tilts his head back to look at you. But you immediately pull your arms out from his hug and punch him on the chest. “You jerk, you could have—“

You pause mid sentence when you notice Jungkook wince in pain, far more than you would have expected. You blink a few times and notice the cut on his lip. His eye also seems quite a bit more red and swollen than you remember.

You pull back and stare at him. Although he attempts a smile, it doesn’t fool you, especially when the action causes his cheek to twitch.

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking away now. “Nothing.”

You tilt his face back to you and run your finger over his cut lip. His lip twitches though you know he’s trying to keep a brave face. You trace up to his eye and catch another flinch, and the very beginnings of a bruise.

“You’re hurt.”

“You should see the other guy.”

It takes quite a bit of convincing to get Jungkook back into your apartment. He keeps insisting he can clean himself up and you know it’s because it’s past midnight now.

But you can’t let him take care of himself. Especially when you’re the reason he’s hurt.

Jungkook is sitting on your couch and looking the least comfortable you’ve ever seen him, his leg bouncing so fast you fear he may take off.

“Stay still. I need to get the ointment on your lip or it’ll scar.”

“Wouldn’t I look handsome with a scar?”

Jungkook laughs when you huff in annoyance, but immediately winces in pain, reaching for the cut.

“You’re lucky your lip ring wasn’t ripped out, Jungkook. I can’t believe you would stoop to violence.”

You’re leaning into him now, tilting his chin up so you can get a closer look at the cut.

You notice your heart racing and can’t figure out why. Then you realize Jungkook is staring at you.

“It might be easier for me if you close your eyes.”

“Who says I want this to be easy?”

Groaning, you leave the couch, returning a few seconds later with a bag of frozen peas. You press it against his blackening eye, a little carelessly given his last comment.

“Such gentle bedside manner,” Jungkook mutters, taking the peas from your hands and gently pressing it against his eye.

“Shut up.”

You stand back and survey his face, noticing a crusted cut above his eye. Grabbing the wet towel, you start wiping it off when he grabs your wrist.

“You’re shivering.”

“Hmm?”

Looking down, for the first time you notice you’re drenched, having been far more preoccupied with getting Jungkook cleaned up.

He reaches over and pushes a wet strand from your eyes. You’re staring at him now, swallowing when he wipes away a droplet from your cheek.

“Maybe you want to change into something warmer?”

“Yeah, ok. Give me one sec,” you reply, jumping up to grab a change of clothes. You pause mid-step and look back. “I’ll bring you the hoodie you left last time.”

You let him hit the shower first, standing back in awe when he emerges 20 minutes later in his old hoodie (it’s yours now, but whatever) and a pair of your baggy sweats. He really looks exceptional in sweats, you think to yourself. When he catches you staring, you clear your throat.

“Right. My turn now.”

His reaction to you after your shower is not nearly as… complimentary. You had grabbed the first pair of clothes in your drawer and maybe that was a mistake.

“Duckies?” He looks like he’s fighting back a laugh, but you don’t see anything wrong with the pyjama set. “It looks like someone barfed ducks on you.”

“What? These are normal pyjamas,” you reply, eyes narrowing. “What do you wear? Ironman shorts?”

A grown man is now giggling in your living room. You’re livid.

“How did you know I was wearing Ironman shorts? Did you peek?”

“What the heck? Seriously?” Ease sets in again as you laugh freely, walking over to playfully shove him. He winces in pain again, prompting you to stare at him. “Are you hurt here too?”

You place your hand on his chest and slide it over to where you shoved him. He sharply inhales, the action answer enough for you. You blink a few times and consider the options before landing on one. You realize you need to go with the one that feels the least comfortable.

“Take it off,” you say, vaguely gesturing to his chest.

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” you repeat, grabbing the layer covering his top half. “I need to see what I’m working with.”

“What, again? You really like making me take my clothes off, huh?”

Despite the annoyed groan you let out, you’re actually grateful for his attempt at lightening the mood.

He struggles for a few moments but manages to remove the hoodie with your help. Once it’s completely off, you can’t help but stare at his chest.

“What the fuck, Jungkook. Your boobs are bigger than mine.”

When you look up, you expect to be received by a smug grin or at least a smirk. But he seems to be avoiding your eyes, his ears turning an impressive shade of red.

Instead of teasing him further, you lean in to examine the injuries. Thankfully it’s not as bad as you feared. There is definitely the beginnings of bruising, but nothing major.

You run your hand over the bruised spot on his chest to check for swelling, noticing him jump a little.

“Too cold?”

He nods.

Rubbing your hands together, you try again, resting a fingertip on his skin. He looks up at you and nods. You slide your hand lower to his ribs and Jungkook groans in response. The bruising is a bit worse there and you decide to apply an ice pack to reduce the risk of further swelling.

Unfortunately, ice is not very comfortable.

Every time your hand glides over his chest, he jumps, pulling away from your touch.

“I need to hold this in place for it to work.”

“Fine. Be quick.”

He inhales but the second your hand touches his chest, he jumps again.

“Sorry, try it again.”

You place your hand on his chest again and notice him tensing his body, his abs distracting you momentarily. As you glide it over to his bruised rib, you hear his muffled groans. A few minutes pass as you continue holding on, noticing how cute he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and his self restraint as he bites his lip, willing himself to endure a bit longer.

You let go one hand to reach for his face when you feel him grab your other wrist again.

With his eyes still shut, he whispers so low you almost don’t hear it. “How much longer?”

You blink at him and when you don’t respond, his eyes flutter open.

Suddenly there isn’t enough air. His breath sounds shallow and you wonder if yours sounds the same. With how close he is, you almost forget he asked you a question.

Clearing your throat, you glance into his eyes momentarily before averting your gaze to his hand wrapped around yours. “A few more minutes. Think you can hang in there a bit longer, hmm?”

He sighs, grip loosening but staying where it is. You chance a glance at him again and he is looking at you. The intensity of his gaze runs through you, an intensity you assume stems from his pain. Pain you wish you could take away.

Your eyes drift to his chest and your mind to somewhere further away. You would have never guessed he looks like that under all those baggy clothes. He’s always been so shy about showing his body, and now you can’t help wondering why.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of thumping. Jungkook’s leg is bouncing again and you reach over to rest your free hand on his leg. Your eyes meet and he gives you a small smile before looking away.

You lift the ice pack and press it higher. He hisses, biting his lip again, so hard you fear he may draw blood. Suddenly his hand squeezes yours again, eyes snapping shut. “Ok, enough, Y/N. I can’t take it any more.”

You exhale the breath you’d been holding, removing the ice pack from him. “Ok, fine. I guess that’s enough.”

A shiver passes through him and you watch as he rubs his arm, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

As you wrap up the ice pack, Jungkook reaches over you to grab his hoodie. With his face so close to yours, you notice how long his eyelashes are, and how cute his nose looks sitting above his pretty lips.

You quickly look away and wait for him to put on his hoodie. Once it’s on, you look at him again. He looks really tired, the very picture of how you feel.

“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Jungkook quirks his brow and then shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch very slowly. “I’ll be way more comfortable in my own bed.”

You quickly run to your door, covering it up with your body. “Absolutely no way I’m letting you walk home in this condition. Besides, I’m taking you to the doctor first thing in the morning.”

Jungkook reaches behind you but in his exhaustion he ends up collapsing onto you. You let him lean on your shoulder, cradling his head as you imagine what he’s been through.

He slowly wraps his arms around you, and you two stay like that for a little while longer, standing perfectly still in each other’s arms. These last several hours have been hell.

“Ok fine, I’ll sleep here,” he whispers onto your shoulder, inhaling deeply before pulling away. “But I’ll take the couch.”

You manage to convince Jungkook to share the bed with you, something that Jungkook fights you on even as you’re guiding him under the covers. But you insist, especially since it means he can tell you immediately if he feels worse.

After you tuck him in, you leave for the washroom. When you return, Jungkook is already asleep.

You chuckle when you notice the little pillow barrier he built between you two. You flip off the light and get into bed, leaning over the barrier to give Jungkook the lightest kiss on the head you can manage. “Love ya, dork,” you whisper with a smile, flipping onto your side.

Before long you’re fast asleep. He chances a look over the barrier and confirms it.

Sighing, he lies back down, staring at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You toss in bed, realizing you’re now awake. With a few blinks to adjust to the darkness of the room, you tilt your head up and catch the red glare from your clock. 3:42am.

Not morning yet.

Blinking some more, memories of this night float to the front of your mind.

With the utmost care, you twist towards the other side. The breath you’d been holding releases as you see Jungkook laying peacefully beside you.

It wasn’t a dream. He’s still here.

You prop up on your elbow as you lean towards him, reaching over the pillow partition to brush a strand that has fallen over his face. He stirs a little, one hand coming over his stomach as the other twitches under the covers.

You watch him breathe.

In and out.

He’s such an idiot.

You shiver as that thought hits you. The thought of what could have happened to him.

Behind that rough exterior lies the gentlest person you know.

To the world, he is the bad boy. The tattoos and face piercings. The bruises on his knuckles from boxing. The sound of his motorcycle in the dead of night.

To you, he is the only good thing in your world. The bunny nose scrunches and elmo giggles. The giant hugs when you have to let go first. And the way he always shows up when you need him.

When you two first met, your father warned you away from him. He went so far as to threaten disowning you.

Well. Turns out it wasn’t just a threat. And when the final bell rang, you chose Jungkook.

He has no clue, though. He just knows you as that annoying rich girl who now struggles to make ends meet.

And he’s always been way too considerate to ask what happened. Instead, he offers his ramen whenever you come over and always gets two cups of Starbucks.

And he doesn’t need to know. All that matters is he is the best friend you could ever ask for. The one person who has stood by you through it all.

And the only person you have ever been in love with.

You only wish you could be brave enough to tell him that.

Maybe you could…

You feel an urge to lean over and kiss his forehead.

That should be ok, right?

You stare at him a bit longer, watching his chest rise and fall, soft sounds escaping his lips.

You lean across and rest your hand at his side, taking care not to touch him.

He is still as night itself.

You dip down and let your lips hover over his forehead.

His eyes are closed. Even with his eyes closed, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

You wish he could see it too.

It’s comical, actually, because he truly is beautiful. But when you told him so, he made some offhanded comment about Taehyung being the handsome one and asked you not to lie. You just brushed it off but at this moment it bothers you. What does he mean?

Look at his cute lil nose.

If you had a nickel for every time you wanted to boop it, you’d be rich again.

And those perfectly pouty lips. Like rose petals on top of each other. You’ve always wondered how…

Only a split second and suddenly your lips are on his. Just the gentlest touch but it’s enough.

You gasp the slightest bit before you pull away, embarrassed and ashamed. But your hand remains planted at his side. When you look back you see Jungkook’s fingers circled around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jungkook’s eyes are still closed but he’s smirking now. With a quick tug at your wrist you fall on top of him and he groans, prompting you to prop yourself up again.

“Jungkook—,” you gasp but his other hand pulls you down, your lips crashing onto his again. He sighs against your lips and then kisses you, soft and hard all at once. You smile, kissing him back. When you finally pull away, his eyes are still shut.

“If this is a dream,” he murmurs, his hand making its way up your back. “I’m never waking up again.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper again, sliding your hand up his chest and he groans when you touch a sore spot, “oh, sorry,” you add, glancing down.

He hisses, pulling you onto him and wrapping his arms around you. “Hold me. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

You press a kiss against his chest before snuggling into him.

Then it hits you.

Just for tonight.

You wonder if he wants this to be a one-off thing.

Or he could still be half asleep.

Worries cloud your mind as his arms envelope you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You inhale deeply and lift your head a bit. “Just for tonight… is that what you want?”

He sighs, pulling you in tighter. “I want this forever. Just you and me.”

You notice he hasn’t said your name once. Maybe he is still dazed. You did give him some pretty strong painkillers.

He groans again and you lift your head. “Maybe you could…,” he starts and when he doesn’t say anything else you rest your head again.

“Wha—,” you exclaim as Jungkook then pulls you across him, dragging you over his body to his other side, the less bruised one.

“There,” he says, kicking away the pillows and nestling himself into the centre of the bed. “This is perfect. You comfy?” He looks down at you with the biggest smile and warmth spreads across your chest. You can only nod. He chuckles, pulling you in tighter.

And somehow you fall asleep like that.

Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Morning comes much too soon.

You blink open your eyes to white and yellow haze. The blinds must be drawn.

Fear creeps up your throat as you run your hand across the bed. The tangle of white sheets are just that. Sheets.

He’s gone.

The doubts start to swirl in your head as you remember what he said.

Just for tonight.

He probably regrets it. The kiss. The cuddling. Everything.

Was it too much? Are you too much?

Lost in your own world, you don’t hear the sound of footsteps growing louder as they approach.

Or the sound of something hitting your night table.

But you do feel the arms that snake around you, a hard body gently setting against yours, and warm breath on your neck.

“Mmm,” he hums, kissing your neck, “time to eat.”

When you open your eyes, Jungkook is staring at you. Contrary to the soft and easy way he spoke, there is uncertainty in his eyes. A searching look. A car waiting for a green light.

And it hits you.

He’s just as worried as you are. This is new territory you two are exploring.

He opens his mouth then shuts it, his teeth peeking out to catch on his lip ring. You watch, fascinated, as you wait for him to speak.

He comes in a bit closer then hesitates. “Is this ok? Should I leave? I didn’t know if what happened last night—“

You lift your head and kiss his nose. “More than ok. I want you to stay.” And just like magic, the lost look disappears. His nose scrunches up as he smiles down at you.

“Hungry?”

“Mhmm.”

He helps you up and pulls the sheets from your legs. You can’t help noticing the ease with which he’s moving.

“You seem a lot better than I expected. You’re not hurting still?” When he gives you a quizzical look, you gesture to his chest and ribs. His eyes widen and then he grins.

“I’m JK, remember? Here, I made these special,” he replies, setting a plate of pancakes on your lap. He then pushes off the blanket and sits next to you, setting a plate in front of him. “Do you wanna… maybe take a shower with me after this?”

You nearly choke on your bite, pancake spraying all over the bedspread. “What?” You manage to turn to him and he’s smirking at you.

“I ran home to check on Bam before you woke up and now I’m kinda sweaty. And too tired to wash myself,” he replies, throwing in a quick wink that almost stops your heart, “Don’t you wanna help me wash?”

You groan. Jungkook might be the best person you know but he’s also the most annoying.

Maybe that’s why you two are a perfect match.

“Here,” he says, reaching over to grab the cups from the tray. “Thirsty?”

“Yep,” you reply, taking the cup he’s holding out to you. You sniff it.

“Wait, what is this?”

Jungkook giggles as he takes a sip of his own drink.

“Try it.”

You bring it closer but one sip has you gagging and nearly spitting it out. “Fuck, Jungkook, why?”

He’s laughing, but the moment you look back at him, his expression turns serious. “What? You drink coffee for Tae but not me? I see how it is.”

He starts to get up but you grab his arm. “One sip! I had one fucking sip! You can’t possibly be angry about that,” you yell back, reaching for him. When he turns back around, he’s grinning.

Then he holds out his own cup. You eye it suspiciously and he laughs. “This was yours,” he says, smiling, “It’s hot chocolate. Your favourite.”

He swaps the two cups and pulls you in for a hug.

“And you’re my favourite. I love you, Y/N.”

You’re startled by how suddenly and easily those words fall from his lips. Then you realize you might not have imagined those same words last night.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his hug and the way it engulfs you in a feeling of safety and security. The way Jungkook always makes you feel.

“I love you too, dork.”

so…? did you like it? ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #stay #lilo fics

2K notes · View notes

leilakisakabiri · 1 year

Note

heyy, can u write one where gavi is obsessed by reader's smell?

Surprise (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi are in a long-distance relationship and you go to his game to surprise him, but he catches you.

Warning(s): None

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hey anon! Thank you so much for the request and thanks for being patient. Hopefully, I did the prompt justice! Not proofread.

Word Count: [1666]

Masterlist

You had reached out to Pedri a week ago asking him to help you surprise Gavi at the final La Liga game.

You were in university studying in America, and the two of you had been doing long distance since last summer. It was now early May and you had finished your exams just in time to be in Barcelona for the final game.

You had lied and told Gavi you wouldn’t be done for another week, before wishing him the best and making yourself scarce, telling him you were busy studying.

In the meantime, you had set up a plan to surprise him with Pedri and booked your tickets.

Once you landed in Barcelona, Pedri came to pick you up. You both smiled at each other warmly, telling each other about your lives since you’d been apart.

“I haven’t seen you since December. How have you been hermana?” Pedri questioned.

You laughed, telling him about your school and all the things you and your friends got up to.

“That sounds so fun. Now I’m jealous I never got to go to school in America!” He exclaimed.

“Mm. It’s probably not as fun as being a famous footballer.” You shrugged playfully.

“Yah I guess that’s cool too.” He remarked.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up to the stadium, and the nerves were beginning to set it in. You hadn’t seen Gavi in almost six months and you were a little nervous to see him again. Did he look the same? Would he be excited to see you?

Pedri could tell that you were getting in your head, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t overthink it, he’ll be happy to see you. He was so sad you couldn’t be here.”

You looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded affirmatively and you felt yourself loosen up, “Thanks Pedri.”

He gave you a smile, ushering you out of the car and into the stadium.

“Ok so we only have a few minutes before the rest of the team gets here so we have to be quick.” Pedri spoke leading you into the locker room.

The plan was that you would leave a note in Gavi’s locker telling him to look up into the family section of the stands, and he would glance up before the game and see you standing there wearing his jersey, cheering him on.

You didn’t want to mess up the before-game ritual, or the meeting with his team, so you opted for seeing him after the game as opposed to before.

You had just placed the note in his locker when you heard the locker room door open, male voices filling the air.

You looked up at Pedri in horror, his facial expression mirroring yours, as you both froze.

He snapped out of it first and pushed you towards the showers, “Oh shit, go hide!”

You had just snapped the shower curtain closed when you heard a voice, “Pedri, hey man. Why are you here so early?”

You heard Pedri let out an awkward laugh, and you cringed, poor boy was never a good liar, “Oh hey Ansu. Uhm- y’know just like to be early.”

A new voice responded, “Really since when?”

You breath caught in your throat, it was Gavi.

It had been so long since you heard his voice in person, it sounded so real, and so close. You felt a wave of emotions hit you. Hearing his voice made it ten times harder to keep yourself hidden, and only amplified how much you missed him.

“Ehh big game so wanted to start now.”

The boys seemed to accept his answer, continuing their conversation.

You silently prayed that they would move toward the other end of the locker room so that you could make a quick escape.

But it seemed like luck was not on your side today.

Gavi was in the middle of a sentence when he abruptly cut himself off.

“Do you smell that?” He asked, pausing to inhale.

“Did you just sniff the air?” Pedri asked him, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up, it smells like Y/n.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh shit. You had totally forgot about your perfume.

You had bought the perfume months ago, back when you were still with Gavi in Barcelona last summer. You had been looking for something that smelled like warm summer nights and when you found it you bought it instantly. However, it wasn’t just you who loved the smell as just twenty minutes after you wore it for the first time Gavi had you spread out on the couch, lips planting kisses all over you, hands exploring every inch of your body.

“You smell so good.” He groaned, kissing the column of your neck.

Your breathing was unsteady, and you found it hard to concentrate, “Thanks, I just bought it. It’s supposed to smell like summer."

“Well whatever it is, I love it.” Gavi murmured, his words caught between his mouth and your skin.

Since then, it had become your everyday perfume, and you spent the rest of summer wearing it and driving Gavi crazy.

He said it smelled exactly how he imagined you to be. Sweet and intoxicating.

Now you were wearing the same exact perfume, having forgotten about Gavi’s obsession with it.

You were scared that you had just outed yourself, but you were also impressed that the perfume had lingered for that long.

Guess it was a good buy.

“What?” Pedri asked him pretending to be confused, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“She always smells like coconut and jasmine, and the locker room smells exactly like that.”

“I think the dirty socks are getting to your head. Go get ready.” Pedri retorted, trying to steer the conversation away from you.

Gavi shook his head, “Pedri I swear. Am I going crazy?”

Ansu spoke, “Nah bro I smell it too.”

That was all the confirmation Gavi needed, “Where is it coming from?” He asked as he set his bag down beginning to move around the room.

You could hear Pedri shuffling as well, presumably following the boy, “C’mon this is stupid. Let’s focus on the game. The rest of the team will be here any minute.”

Gavi sighed, “Ok yah.” He resigned, moving to go change into his uniform.

“Be honest Pedri, did you have a girl in here?” Ansu asked playfully.

You heard Pedri sputter, and you let out a small gasp, not being able to hold back your laughter.

“What was that?”

“What?” Pedri asked, his voice rising unintentionally.

“Swear I heard something over there.” Ansu stated.

You bit your lip, moving back into the shower, cursing yourself for making noise.

It was quiet for a moment, and then a second later you felt the shower curtain being ripped open.

You were greeted by a very stressed-out Pedri and a confused Ansu.

“What the fu-“ You desperately held up a finger to your mouth, pleading with him to be silent.

“What?” Gavi asked coming over.

Ansu quickly shut the curtain again, “Oh nothing. Just thought I saw a spider.”

They all moved away from the showers, and you let out a breathe. You couldn’t believe how close you were to being caught.

All you had wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, but that was turning out to be much harder than you thought.

You heard more voices begin to fill the locker room, and you wondered if Pedri was going to come and get you or if you were on your own.

A moment later, the shower curtain slowly opened and Pedri popped his head inside.

“That was so close!” He whispered.

You stepped out of the shower, “I know! Now get me out of here.”

“Ok, most of the guys are in the main changing area, waiting for coach. We’re going the other way, so just walk in front of me and we’ll be good.”

You nodded, feeling Pedri walk behind you as you took a left out of the shower area.

You had your sights fixed on the door and were just steps away when a voice interrupted. “Pedri, do you know anything about this no-“ You heard Gavi ask before his voice faltered,

“Who’s that?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing your cover had officially been blown.

You felt Pedri freeze behind you. He began to speak without turning around, scrambling to come up with something.

You cut him off, turning around and finally revealing yourself, “Surprise!”

Gavi stood there in shock staring at you for about five seconds, unmoving, before his body caught up to his brain and then he was colliding into you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Holy shit. Y/n? What are you doing here bebe?” He asked his voice rising in excitement.

You giggled as he picked you up, spinning you around.

You looked up at him once he put you down, reaching up to caress his cheek, “I wanted to surprise you! But you kind of ruined it for yourself.” You admitted.

“I don’t even care. I’m so happy you’re here.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You smiled, kissing his cheek as you promised you’d find him after the game.

He walked you to the door, as you basked in each other’s presence.

You gave him one last kiss before pulling away.

“I knew I smelled you!” he exclaimed.

You giggled, “Yah I forgot about that. Can’t believe you sniffed me out.” You teased while ruffling his hair.

He gave you a playful glare before fixing his hair, “Oh c’mon you know I love it.”

You smiled, “I know.”

You gave him one last wave before turning and walking through the tunnels towards the seats.

You heard him yell after you, “Nice jersey!”

You turned around, a grin on your face, “Thanks. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

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hydrngea · 1 year

Note

Heyy!

Can you do a rafe cameron x reader fluff where she gets made fun of by some girls at the country club and rafe overhears and helps her?

Take your time and thx!

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛

a/n : thanks sm for the request 💕💕💕 sorry i took forever !!! hope you enjoy!

masterlist / latest rafe fic / ao3

—————

there were all sorts of talk about you and rafe cameron spreading around the country club.

everytime you went out to drop off an order at a table, you’d hear whispers of your name and feel heavy glares being burnt onto the back of your uniform.

you knew that the people were gonna talk. you were the kook-kings new girl and that was enough to rile up every girl in the obx, especially since you were a pogue.

the sharp voice of your boss pulled you out of your trance as you washed some dirty dishes.

“hey, y/n! switch places with jere at the bar so he can go on break.”

fuck

that was the last thing you needed today and might as well been your last straw. of course he had to switch you to the bar ten minutes before the end of your shift. you internally groan at his words, whilst putting forth your best country-club smile and pushing past the trap door.

the second you walk out you’re ushered over by a high pitched girl from the corner of the bar. great. of course it’s the assholes from school calling for you.

“hey, yoo-hoo! we need some refills over here.”

you hurry over to the group and forced greeting “how may i help?” you ask with a fiegned sweetnsss to your voice, silently praying under your breath that they won’t order anything too complex.

you definitely jinxed yourself.

“can we get 6 spicy margs with extra spice?”

you can’t help the disappointed sigh that escapes you- it’s probably going to take you past the end of your shift to finish mixing that many drinks.

it seems like your dissatisfaction is apparent to them, because the girl in the middle, bianca, you think, cocks her head to her left and pouts.

“is there a problem? you do realize this is your job right?”

you’re taken aback by her comment, even though it shouldn’t surpise you. she’s been kildare’s self appointed queen bee since elementary. her words aren’t very out of the ordinary for her, but they still sting at your chest.

another one scoffs, shrugging a shoulder as she combs her fingers through her freshly balayaged hair. “i know it’s hard for you pogues to be on your feet and work for your money, but what’s the point of the paycheck if you can’t even do your job enthusiastically?”

your clench your fist at your side, digging your fingernails into your palm while biting your tounge. you try not to make it seem like they’re getting to you, but you know by the burning feeling on your cheeks that your body is betraying you.

“so 6 spicy margaritas?” you attempt to end their shaming of you by clarifying the order, but they totally ignore you, continuing on with their degradation.

“really, y/n. if you want the tips you should at least act happy to be at your job.”

happy was the last thing you were feeling at the moment.

“i’ll take that into-“ you voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, your frustration catching up to you. suddenly, you feel small, small like you’re the size of the fire ants that strut over the ground; even smaller. “consideration.” you finish, muttering the last word.

you make to turn on your heel and start on the drinks, yet you hear your name fall from one of their lips once again. you try to focus on pouring the alcohol increments correctly, but you can’t stop yourself from tuning into what they have to say about you.

“i bet she’s gonna leave rafe the second she drains his bank account.”

“please; rafe will leave her once he finally realizes he deserves way better than a pogue. just a matter of time.”

the conversation just keeps getting worse, to the point you almost drop the marghertis as you carry them over towards them.

you let out a somewhat relieved sigh when you see rafe walking over towards the counter, twirling his car keys on his pointer finger.

“hiii rafe.” bianca says, her voice drippping with desperation that almost makes you gag. rafe acts as though she were on mute, completely ignoring her while he beelined in your direction.

he leans against the bar, offering a smile that’s reserved for just you “hey baby,” rafe greets. “ready to go home?”

“yea. let me just grab my stuff and i’ll be out quick.” you reply, quietly as you finish wiping down your work area.

rafe notices your hushed tone and your upset mood without you having to announce it; you have that angry look in your eyes and your skin is flushed scarlet with your jaw it taut. something’s up.

he watches as you trudge out the door and slightly juts out his lip in a small pout, wondering what’s going on with you right now. usually you’re all cheerful and happy when he comes to pick you up from work.

“of course y/n needs rafe to rescue her from work.“ his ears capture the annoying voice of one of the girls gathered together at the corner of the bar. he turns around, looking at them with his brow furrowed in disgust.

“god, i don’t know how he deals with he-“

“what’d you just say?” rafe pushes himself off the counter and stomps his way towards them, giving them all a glare made of steel. the girls all tense in their seats, voices piping down as they just look at him.

of course fucking bianca’s the one to open her mouth to try and respond. rafe doesn’t even give her the opportunity to say something, cutting her off before she can’t even start. “keep that mouth shut. especially if your gonna talk shut about my girl.” he threatens, eyes shooting daggers at her.

just then, you appear from the corner and rafe walks away from them, possessively wrapping an arm over you shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to your forhead and then your lips. “let’s get out of here, huh?” he whispers against your lips and you reply nod, giving him a small smile before you bring your fingers to interlock with his which rests by your bicep.

you can’t help the giggle which falls from you as he mutters a pointed comment towards the girls while you walk past them- loud enough that you’re sure they heard.

they definitely will be keeping their mouths shut from now on.

———

taglist : @maybankslover @mrsstarkey1 @of-many-fandomss @penny4yourthoughts @dearreader03

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dirtyvulture · 7 months

Text

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest.

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months.

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore.

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself.

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you.

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech.

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch.

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given.

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice.

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures.

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom.

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over.

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay.

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper.

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle.

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately.

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock.

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all.

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too.

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck.

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again.

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

AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader

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