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minisugakoobies · 3 months

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Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist

It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown.

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate.

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop.

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far.

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo.

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything.

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say.

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question.

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited?

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone.

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again.

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace.

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?”

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!”

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over.

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going?

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous.

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks.

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity.

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away.

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo.

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic.

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck.

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself.

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now.

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors.

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say.

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.”

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache.

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly.

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock?

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg.

“Oh no, that was just for you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?”

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence.

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf.

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric.

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?”

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you.

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all.

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!”

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.”

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip.

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs.

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin.

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.”

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake.

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind.

“Just think about it.”

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing.

And oh, god, do you think about it.

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name.

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall).

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs.

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.”

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.”

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority.

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape.

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear.

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod.

“And what did you decide?”

“I - I don’t know.”

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?”

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage.

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir.

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.”

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list.

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs.

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.”

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.”

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely.

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?”

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin.

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?”

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes.

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger.

Fine, then. You’re a fool.

“One.”

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable.

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again.

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.”

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.”

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice.

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.”

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?”

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking.

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.”

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.”

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath.

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.”

“No shit. Everyone knows that.”

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again.

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?”

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right.

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?”

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.”

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it.

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek.

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move.

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply.

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.”

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open.

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him.

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.”

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go.

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need.

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed.

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated.

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants.

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.”

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience.

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body.

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it.

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him.

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.”

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue.

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly.

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.”

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?”

“I will.”

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing.

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.”

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens.

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little.

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps.

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands.

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.”

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.”

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you.

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life.

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze.

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso.

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves.

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between.

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!”

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.”

And just like that, you feel that spark again.

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash.

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation.

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer.

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his.

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!”

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.”

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls.

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!”

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.”

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.”

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you.

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you.

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.”

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.”

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.”

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?”

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl.

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it.

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip.

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises.

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire.

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need.

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs.

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!”

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him.

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.”

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush.

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace.

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content.

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and -

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.”

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.”

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look.

“What?”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?”

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.”

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

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Taglist: @scoupsjin; @aznstoner; @yourtmblrgirlfriend; @hyunlvrs; @notevenheretbh1; @chrisbangsgalaxy; @dessianna1

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz imagines #skz x you #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #fic: yours for the night

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theprettynosferatu · 8 months

Text

Oh, you're awake. Finally. Please, look at the picture on the screen.

You recognize her, I suppose. Look at how silly she looks, trying to be tough, trying to look cool. All that leather and black and studs… doesn't she look ridiculous?

I see you nodding. Good. The special drink is grabbing hold of your brain. Making it softer. Malleable. You really should be more careful about accepting treats from strangers… but I suppose you won't have to worry about that anymore. Or anything else.

Now, let's look at your social media. Lord, isn't that pathetic. Trying so hard to be clever, to be snarky, to be rebellious. It's almost endearing, like a puppy trying to walk in its hind legs. Come on, we both know it's all just a costume, don't we? One you've worn for so long you mistakenly believe it's a personality- one you developed when you were a teen. One you need to grow out of.

Please, don't struggle. The knots are quite secure, I assure you. I've done this too many times to count. Why are you resisting, anyway? Do you truly, deep down believe this personality of yours is worth saving? Worth fighting for? Doesn't it just look as the pathetic attempt by a dumb girl to pretend to be something more?

Ah. I see you squirming. Was it the "dumb girl" comment? I suspect it was. Your pussy knows I'm right, and it's screaming its approval. It's screaming for you to accept its truth, pulsing with neediness and wet with anticipation… I wonder what it is about that word. “Dumb"... it does have an effect on you, tough girl. Dumb. Silly. Stupid girl. My oh my, is that a moan that just escaped your lips? I’m sure it was. Feeling softer, are we?

Softer indeed… I’m sure you can sense it still… the way it’s becoming harder and harder to focus. The way a pink cloud seems to be permeating your consciousness. The way you half-perceive the faint scent of cotton candy. The way you are getting more and more soaked by the second.

Oh, stop struggling. Tell me, why do you hate it so much? The idea of actually being a cute, silly, horny girl? I can see it in your eyes- the loathing. The searing, pure anger. Why, though? I suppose you are imagining all those girls, those popular girls, those slutty girls, those bimbos that soaked up all the attention and the praise. Am I wrong? I don’t think I am. But I do think you are hiding. Yes, hiding what really happened. You tell yourself a story, one that makes you look good, or so you think. That you’re better than them. Stronger than them. More independent than them. A free thinker! A rebel punk feminist! But that’s not the whole story, is it now? No, we both know what really happened. You surrendered.

Yes, that’s it. Your eyes can’t lie, you know. You surrendered because you could never, ever be like them, be as giggly and flirty and free- so you decided you wouldn’t compete with them on their own terms, and modeled yourself to be their opposite. How pathetic is that? Even in your resistance, you could only be defined by them, by your rejection of them. You became their dark mirror, and soaked in the attention of the leather-wearing so-called “punks” and the geeks and all the other rejects. But you know why they even looked at you: because the other girls, the pretty girls, the girls in pink wouldn't even deign to turn their gaze towards them. You were always… what they settled for.

You think I’m being cruel. Well, I won’t deny that I get some pleasure from throwing the truth at your face. It’s always so much fun to watch you all fight, and moan, and deny that they would do anything, anything at all to be able to finger fuck yourselves to oblivion… But believe me, my cruelty has a purpose. I wouldn’t be doing this to you if I didn’t have a higher goal in mind. A benevolent one.

I can take it all away. All that resentment, that anger, that anxiety… that constant, pointless quest to be… what? A professional? A successful woman? An independent soul? Please. That’s only so much set dressing. I can strip those delusions from you, give you what you really want.

Imagine it with me. Tight white jeans showing off your ass, the shape of your legs. A pink tank-top, proudly proclaiming yourself to be a princess in tacky, gold lettering. The men turning their heads as you walk. Everyone being so nice to you at parties… because they want to see you on your knees, licking and sucking and worshiping their cocks, because they want to bend you over and use your slutty pussy as their plaything. And you… you would love it.

No more fear. No more stress. Just the bliss of sucking three cocks, going from one yummy dick to the next, squeezing your titties together to give them the spectacle of their lifetimes. And then your cunt being filled, that hole you now hold your rage in given meaning and purpose by becoming a living set of holes for men to use, sensing the simple, plain joy of knowing you are doing what you were meant to do with your life. Knowing you are wanted. Desired.

I see you’re drooling. Sounds like you like my little proposal. Well, there’s one simple way to sign this pact with me. You don’t even have to speak- speaking seems so hard now, doesn’t it? So keep quiet and let your slutty body do the talking for you. Keep your mouth open.

There. Good girl. Doesn’t my cock look tempting? Amazing? Like you could just suck it forever? Yes, good girl… now, let me fuck your mouth- and know my cock is only the first of many. Too many to count.

Then again, by this point you can’t count too high, can you?

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !

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acotarxreader · 3 days

Text

Storm Chaser

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: You and Azriel go your separate ways after a vicious fight leaves Azriels jealousy calling the shots but can the ever brave Illyrian brave a storm without you.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, storms?

A/N: A silly goofy fic. I wrote 5 other fics today and I'm going back to edit a monster of a one tomorrow, it has such a serious amount of angst in it I've run out of synonyms 😂 Nothing like a day off from college to send my hands typing😌

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“WELL THEN?!”

“IF YOU DON'T STOP SHOUTING AT ME AZRIEL I’M LEAVING!” your partner crossed his arms tightly across his chest and furrowed his brows, anger and frustration twisted across his face. He huffed loudly while you threw your head back in frustration. Taking a long, deep breath in and out before looking at him again. His bedroom, the stage of this battle.

“Azriel” he couldn't meet your eyes. You huffed at his response. Archie was always the jealous type but this was taking it to the next level.

“I’m the one who should be mad with you Azriel… you followed me...like I was one of your targets” you said quietly and firmly. Azriel still looking anywhere but you.

“Azriel…”

“WELL WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO YNN?!” His raise in volume again fueled your anger.

“I DON'T KNOW? HMMM? WHAT COULD MY PARTNER HAVE POSSIBLY DONE TO FIND OUT IF I WAS CHEATING ON HIM? HMMM, I WONDER, I MEAN HE COULDN'T TALK TO ME ABOUT IT, THAT WOULD BE INSANITY!” you sarcastically shout back to match his volume. Azriel ran his hands through his hair in angry frustration. He hated this argument even though he was always the one to start it. He couldn’t help his thoughts, his jealousy, his behaviour.

“You have to stop this incessant insecurity” The words cut Azriel probably deeper than you intended, his voice escaping him before he could control it.

“OH FUCK OFF YNN I WOULDN'T PUT IT PAST YOU, YOUR PARENTS WERE CHEATING ON EACH OTHER, IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY!” Azriel tried to stop the words from bellowing from his as they left his mouth but he couldn’t. You took a step back from him at the words, regret fogging Azriel instantly.

“No wait YNN, I didn’t mea-”

“Don't call me that, don’t call me YNN ever again” You fought the tears growing, this was further than the argument usually ran on for. Deeper than it had before.

“I-I can’t do this anymore Az! I can’t! This is insanity, round and round again. It’s too much, it’s too much all the time, you’re too much all the time. You go off threatening everyone who even looks at me. You threatened Cassian, Az. Cassian! I can’t handle your intensity every single day in and out.” The words were low and shaky as Azriel found himself unable to support his weight under your words, sitting down to relieve some ounce of strain on the edge of his bed.

“You don’t love me anymore?” The words were as heartbreaking as the look on his face. You sat slowly next to him, taking his hand lightly in yours.

“I think I love you so much some days I think my heart will burst but-but- I need space, I need time, I need-”

“Anyone but me? I can’t help but want to protect you” You shook your head at his words, standing again, releasing his hand for what would be the last time in a long while.

“This level of control goes beyond protecting. Az I-”

“Go YNN, leave! Go!” anger leaked through the words, his armour to shield his shattering heart, his face twisting in an almost blind rage, a look he had never given you ran a chill down your spine. Then you did. You went.

You fell to the outskirts of the group, only meeting to carry out your official role within the Court as Rhysand’s emissary to the other Solar Courts. You and Azriel did your best to stay out of one another's way, trying not to show the hurt you both still felt by the words that had cut you both. The group could feel the awkward energy but chose to believe that you both would sort it yourselves and were in no rush to get involved. A few months after the break up, Feyre had had enough of the divide.

“Please come YN”

“Feyre” you sighed, closing your novel, landing your eyes on Feyre's puppy dog eyes.

“C’mon, we’re all going to the cabin for my birthday, it’ll be fun! Please come, Mor is already not coming because she’s on the continent, you’re not also going to bail are you?”

“Fine” you sighed, the guilt trip working on you.

Your friends and you sat around the painted living room table of the cabin, the wind howling violently outside. You enjoyed the familiar energy of your family truly relaxing into their environment. You sat across the way from Azriel, all playing a round of cards, for the first time in a long time, some element of normalcy hung between you. Until it was time for bed.

Everyone was mated except for you and Azriel, even Amren had brought Varian to keep her company in the wild hills. The cabin expanded to allow enough rooms for all the guests and as the fire crackled down the couples retired to their rooms, leaving you and Azriel alone for the first time in a long time.

“Well, I better head to bed Az” You smiled softly at the Spymaster who looked like sleep evaded him.

“Goodnight YNN- or sorry YN” he pushed the flush rising to his cheeks away.

“It's okay Azills' ' You found a small laugh leaving you at the nickname you never thought you’d hear again. Lucien came stomping out of the room the Cabin had given him and Elain, pillow and blanket in hand.

“I have to sleep out here” he said sheepishly.

“Lucien, take my room, I’ll sleep out here, I’m very comfortable” Azriel sprawled along the deep sofa, pulling a throw blanket down around him. Lucien nodded in thanks, swiftly exiting the room in his embarrassment. You then gave Azriel a small wave before leaving him to cuddle into the couch.

You stared up at the ceiling of the cabin for an hour or two, the last time you were you and Azriel stayed awake the whole night worshipping one another's bodies. A small shiver ran down your spine at the warm memory.

The sky then seemed to entirely crack and shatter open above, the heavy torrential rain making an attempt to come in the wooden roof above you. You swaddled yourself deeper into the sheets, protecting yourself from the eardrum-bursting sound.

The lightning came then, cruel and unforgiving, making your veins feel alive. Lighting the whole bedroom before plunging it back into darkness, the electricity of the storm interfering with the power in the cabin, plunging the place into the dark. Thunder rattled the wooden walls, almost shaking you in the bed. You smiled at the feeling, loving storms so deeply for their unkempt uncontrollable nature. The air was thick with the electricity that coursed through it and then a thought came to you as fast as the lightning. A certain someone who hated storms with a burning passion, an irrational fear he was quite ashamed of was in the sitting room full of windows, alone. You rose from the bed, another crack of lightning hit, setting your adrenaline on fire and you loved the feeling so purely.

“Hey Az?” you cautiously whispered in from the doorway of your room.

“Y-yeah YN, are-are you okay?” he replied quickly, cursing his shaking voice. You thought about the proud male, quietly rattling in his make-shift bed and decided to be kind.

“Az, I’m kind of scared, can you come in here?” you buried your lying smirk as you removed yourself from the doorway and lay back into the bed. The silence that followed had your mind racing, did you make the wrong call? Had you just embarrassed yourself for the sake of nothing, you could almost feel Azriel through the wall weighing up his options. Another boom of deafening thunder sent Azriel bolting across the living room, slamming to a stop on his heels in the doorway, trying to play his run off as easy breezy. You buried your grin under the duvet as he slipped into the bed below the sheet.

“I’ll protect you”

“My hero” you teased, he wrapped his heavy arms around you, pulling you into such a familiar position. You could hear his heart beating 120km/hr off his chest in erratic movement and you muffled your smile into him.

“That’s what partn- it's what friends are for” he said into your hair, cursing his little slip-up internally. Lightning lit up the room again, Azriel gripping you to almost bone-crushing levels of pressure. You intertwined your legs with his, tracing a small circle along the base of his spine, calming him down under your touch. Azriel had missed being this close to you, missed your scent on his skin, your loving touch and he knew you loved storms, he knew this whole thing was to protect his ego. He didn’t mind, if this was his one and only chance to hold you again in his arms he’d take it.

“YNN, I don’t think you cheated on me” he found the words slip from his voice into the comfortable silence. You looked up from his chest to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think I did either Azills” you smirked and he turned the same.

“I’m serious YN, I should have trusted you more, I know I can trust you more…..would you consider giving me the opportunity to trust you more?”

“I don’t know Az” your voice betrayed your heart in favour of your head.

“I can prove I’m serious” he pulled away from you suddenly and you missed the heat and the shape of his body against yours.

“What are you doing?” you half laughed, leaning up on one arm to watch him run out into the living area, you followed him confusedly. You watched him haphazardly throw on his shoes, and whip the front door open, the wild cruel wind blowing gail throughout the cabin.

“Are you crazy?!” you almost shouted over the wind.

“About us?! Yeah!”

“Crazy and cheesy it would seem!” you laughed before he winked at you and ran off into the storm, you chased after him, stopping at the threshold of the door.

“Azriel what the fuck come back!” you were shouting in a mix of hysterical laughing and absolute fear for him.

“Do you believe me?!” The rain lashed off of his body, the wind threatening to whip under his wings and lift him to be lost to the sky forever.

“Yes! Yes! Come back inside you freak!” your laugh rose over the lightning, lighting the path back to the house for Azriel. He bolted in fast from the storm, the bravery being seriously tested as the thunder bellowed. His soaking hand took yours, as he almost ran you back into your room.

“You’re out of your mind Az” you looked at the drenched Illyrian with wind-burned cheeks and messy dark brown hair in knots on his head. He looked as wild and untamed as the storm but more of a mess, your mess.

“YN, I know it will take more than storm chasing to prove it to you but please, let me prove it to you and I -”

“-Yes' ' you cut across him with the best word he’s ever heard, he pulled you into his soaked body as you shrieked with the cold, it pulled you in and you couldn’t not laugh. Azriels icy lips met your warmer ones and you missed one another in immeasurable amounts. Thunder rolled loudly again, causing Azriel to jump.

“Come on storm chaser, you can protect me better from under the cover”

“It is my only job”

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

Hehe, whatcha think?

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swanimagines · 3 months

Text

NEVER YOU | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Kaz has hated you for no reason for a long time, but you were always ignoring him being mean. But one day, you actually do get hurt by his insult - and that eventually leads to something you didn't know would happen.

The Crow Club was unusually quiet that day. Only a few players were present, one at the bar counter downing his first pint and you knew only by the looks of him that he’d keep downing them until he’s kicked out. Another customer at the table was cheating, and you knew Jesper noticed it too.

You saw Kaz’s shadow coming down the stairs before you even heard the click of his cane. The shadow grew bigger, until Kaz was standing on your right and you smiled at him.

“Morning, boss,” you greeted him, only to be met with a glare before he turned away. You sighed, he had been like that for almost six months, it started a couple of months after you became a Crow - you hadn’t even done anything, at least nothing you could point out why Kaz hated you so much. Maybe he just hated kindness, being so ruthless himself.

You turned your attention back to your breakfast, munching away as you read the newspaper until all the customers were out, and you saw the Crows gathering together at the bar counter. You momentarily met eyes with Inej, and Kaz retorted something, making Inej look at him again. By the looks of it, you figured it’s a Crow thing, meaning you should be there too. So you stood up from the table, and saw them looking at a blueprint that was spread on the counter.

“Is that our next target?” you asked. “Hm, van Putten manor. I can already see–”

Kaz interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, his voice colder than it usually was. “You won’t be needed during this heist. You’d only be dead weight, slowing everyone down. You would ruin the whole thing.” He gave you a dismissive glance. “Get out of my sight.”

Usually his insults didn’t feel like much of anything, but this time his words really stung you somehow. Maybe it was a bad day for you, or maybe his continuous insults and degrading remarks had taken their toll on you. Or maybe you had hoped too hard that he and you would become friends eventually.

When he first met you, it had gone so well. He had wanted you to be part of Dregs, and soon he had made you a Crow. A few months after being a Crow, he had started to hate you, and you never knew what had you done. Every single thing, you existing, you making breakfast, you laughing, you appearing behind his door with intel - everything seemed to make him hate you even more. Others didn’t know anything about it either, everyone was just as puzzled as you were.

You weren’t exactly friends with the other five, never really attempting to get to know them. Instead, you had hit it off with Kaz so well, you had even thought you’d be the one to crack the cold steely walls Dirtyhands held up. You thought you’d grow close with him, even. But no, he was actively pushing you away, hating you for some reason.

You took a step back and without a word, left the Club and made your way to the Slat in pouring rain, biting back tears.

Kaz was surely happy about that.

—

You had a gnawing feeling. It told you that something was wrong - something with the heist. You had laid in bed, trying to read your book - but you just couldn’t shed the feeling no matter how much you tried.

So, after pacing around your room for a good fifteen minutes, you grabbed your coat, your knives and your gun before heading out, taking the fastest route you knew towards the van Putten manor.

You arrived at the garden, and immediately knew what was wrong. All six of your colleagues were detained, held in place, the chief guard looking them over.

“Dirtyhands himself,” the guard laughed, tilting his head. “I thought you and your little friends here would be an actually challenging bunch, but instead you basically offered yourselves to us.”

You frowned. Kaz almost never failed with his plans and if he did, he always had a way out. Was this part of his plan too? An unusually dangerous plan, not really fitting Kaz’s style.

You ducked under the fence when a flashlight almost hit you, quietly crawling forward so you could look at the scene from behind a bush.

“There’s quite a price for your heads,” the chief guard continued. “Merchants all around the city will be pleased to know their manors are safe, because the infamous Dirtyhands is finally dead.”

You heard a gun click, and that’s when you struck. You threw a knife on one guard, put a bullet into another’s head, kicked the third unconscious. Everything happened so fast, but it still felt like slow motion. A guard approached you from the right and you hit him right on the nose, blood spurted out as you heard a satisfying crack, feeling the nose shatter beneath your wrist. You turned around again, ready to take on another guard, when you suddenly collapsed on the ground and was unable to get up.

The pain wasn’t even there. Your leg just started feeling numb, and you fell on the ground, seeing how your trousers had started turning red. Your vision started to blur. You saw movement around you, heard muffled gunshots and shouts, and then you felt pressure around your calf, and groaned at the numb pain. Then, you were lifted off from the ground, and at that moment you went under.

—

Kaz had been pacing around for days, occasionally stopping by your door, being much more tense, not eating properly, sleeping even worse, his hair looking disheveled more. Inej had never seen Kaz like that. From her understanding, Kaz hated you, wanted you to be gone, out of sight, like you wouldn’t even exist. She had wondered why Kaz kept you within the Crows if he hated you so much, but Kaz had reasoned it with saving money, that letting you go would mean he’d have to give you payoff which would be more than your usual salary was. Which didn’t make sense because he’s losing more money by keeping you, but Inej hadn’t pushed it.

If she hadn't known better, she’d think Kaz cared about you. But she knew it would be unlikely, he was so cruel to you, basically bullying you - and sometimes it felt like he even enjoyed bullying you. Inej never saw even one hint of regret in his eyes when he had insulted you.

But, last time he had insulted you, you had actually gotten hurt. And Inej hadn’t looked at Kaz, she had looked after you disappearing from the door.

Would it be possible that the flicker of regret would have been in Kaz’s eyes then?

They were all worried, checking up on you occasionally, visiting you, sitting by your bed talking to you, apologising they had never even tried to get to know you better, but Kaz was by far the most worried, even if it didn’t seem like it. He never paid you a visit or asked how you are recovering from Nina, but they all saw how he acted during you being unconscious.

After a few days, Nina came downstairs, a soft smile on her face. “She’s awake.”

Kaz almost stood up the second Nina said that, Inej noted. It was silent for a moment before Kaz actually stood up, slowly starting to climb the stairs. Inej switched amused glances with Nina and Jesper, maybe there was something much more than hate to it after all.

—

You heard a knock on your door and sat up slightly, groaning as your leg protested. “Come in.” After your invite, the door slowly opened, revealing your visitor.

It was Kaz.

You frowned, definitely not expecting him. “Boss?”

He stared at you for a moment, before he made his way to the armchair two feet apart from your bed, and you heard his leather gloves creaking as he squeezed his cane. He had his eyes averted from you and was silent for a moment. Your lamp barely provided light, you couldn’t make up any expressions from his face, you pretty much only saw his silhouette.

“We need to talk,” he then mumbled, turning his head towards you but not looking at you.

His voice lacked the coldness it usually held, instead having something else you couldn’t place. You were quiet for a few seconds and then sat up a little more. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

He was quiet for a moment, before he took in a deep breath. “I’ve been… unnecessarily harsh to you. I never even gave you a chance to understand. I… apologise for that.”

You blinked. Kaz Brekker apologising? You stared at him silently for a good moment, before you found your voice again. “Could you explain why you hated me now? What did I do?”

“It was never about you,” he replied quickly, and swallowed, seemingly gathering his courage again. “It’s me. Your kindness, how you treated me like a human, how you always looked at me without a hint of fear from the start… it made me uneasy. It reminded me of… something I’ve tried to forget, something I’ve tried to think of as a weakness. So I pushed you away before you got too close and made sure you stayed at arm’s length by pretending I hate you.”

You were silent again for a moment, your brows furrowing. “So, just to clarify, you don’t actually hate me?”

Kaz sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “No, I don’t hate you. I never did.”

It was hard for him to admit, you could tell. He was there, vulnerable, raw even. Maybe for the last time you’d see him like that. He looked like he truly regretted how he treated you - not valuing you enough, thinking his affection for you was a weakness he should get rid of.

“I forgive you,” you then murmured, a soft smile gracing your lips. “It takes guts from you to come to me like this, stepping out from the castle you built around yourself. So, I forgive you.”

Kaz’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and you let out a small giggle at it. Then, his lips twitched upwards. A smile. Barely there.

It made your heart skip a beat and you felt blood traveling up to your face.

You bit your lip, trying to compose yourself before Kaz noticed anything. “Um…I’m kind of hungry, could you maybe ask someone to bring me something? Nina said I shouldn’t walk with this leg unless I want a cane for life too.”

Kaz let out a puff of air through his nose, closest to laugh you had ever heard him go. Then, he stood up. “I’ll let them know.”

You shifted slightly, moving to rest your back against your headboard. “Kaz?”

He stopped and turned his head towards you. “Hm?”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

He stood still for a moment, and then made his way out, leaving you fiddling with a string of your nightgown, your face hot.

Maybe this would lead to something more.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #sab #sab x reader #sab imagine #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #six of crows #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #reader insert #female reader #my works

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

Text

“A Yuletide Miracle:” Spawn!Astarion learns the (nsfw) meaning of the season, finding 🔥heat in the cold❄️

Spawn!Astarion x Reader | E | 3.4K

Part 1: “Yuletide in Faerûn”

Summary: A very “Grinchy,” cantankerous Astarion walks with you home on the eve of Yuletide, loathing the sights of celebration. Little does he know the surprise you have planned to make his heart grow three sizes that night, and well… other part of his undead anatomy…

Slightly inspired by “The Grinch” 🌟

CW: Cranky, festivity-hating Vampire Spawn, a Yuletide surprise that warms his undead heart, and helps him learn the true meaning of the season.

Read on Ao3 | Astarion fic Masterlist

🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️

“I do not get it,” Astarion grumbles as you walk towards your flat in the lower city. Baldur’s Gate, blanketed in snow, crisp and pure and crunching under your boots as you return from your shopping. Night has fallen, the stars are bright. Voices fill the air with music from taverns and the scent of spices wafts on the breezes. It’s beautiful, this time of year. But the enterally handsome Vampire Spawn at your side couldn’t be more glower and glum. “I mean, I have every right to be merry and filled with cheer this time of year. The nights are longer, the days are darkened, it’s a Vampire Spawn’s paradise. But the rest of this… mirth…” he grimaces as you stroll, arm and arm, past a group of carolers serenading outside of the Elfsong. “They have no right or reason to be so chipper in the dark and cold.”

You give him a tug on his arm, a good-humored and disparaging glance from the side of your eye. “Come now, music and parties and warmth and gifts…. It’s Yuletide, my love. Surely even you would love to have people thinking about you and buying you gifts upon gifts?”

He falls silent. Tense. As you make the last turn towards your little home, you walk in the silence. Just a flat, but it’s yours. Yours for the last few months since your victory over the Netherbrain. This little gift from Wyll, new Duke of Baldur’s Gate, it’s your safe haven from the sun while you both settle yourselves to find him a cure… and while you fuck each others brains out like you’re still about to maybe die tomorrow.

Old habits die hard.

But as the winds whip around you, bitter and cold, you hide your frame behind his broad shoulders. He may be chilling to the touch and undead, but at least he can block the ice of winter. And it makes him scoff. “Really? Truly, you use me as a shield? Some partner, some selfless merry cheer you spread.”

You clutch your sack and the precious contents tighter against your body, keeping it warm and safe. “I told you, my little surprise for you can’t freeze. Else, our trip to the shops will all be for naught and you’ll get nothing for Yuletide, my love.”

You draw to a stop, huddled behind his back at your doorstep. You barely hear him mutter to himself over the icy wind and the snap of the key in the lock, “So like every other year…”

Words not meant for you to hear. But they pierce your heart more than the cold and ice.

You pause inside the door, shaking off your cloak from the piles of snow that have accumulated. “Why don’t you start the fire in the study? I’ll be in, just in a moment….”

He turns, leaving his own damp cloak a pile on the ground. Like always. Messy thing. “So you can finish readying your…” he scowls, bitterness behind those crimson eyes, “…surprise? Gods, I hope it’s not some cheesy Yuletide gift.”

“Would it be so unthoughtful of me to give my lover a little something tonight?” You smirk, hiding the little satchel behind your back. “It is the eve of Yule, after all.”

He sniffs in abject derision. “If you insist on wasting our gold on something so frivolous, who am I to stop you.” He closes in on you, making you retreat against the wall of the foyer. “Just don’t expect anything grand in return… well, unless you think what I give you on a nightly basis is grand enough.” He flashes those fangs at you, smirking with all that lust and seduction that makes your legs weak to feel him between your thighs.

You cough, clearing your voice and forcing a pout on your trembling lips. “You could at least put a bow on it?” You tease, making that hungry smirk widen.

“Cliché, but if that’s what gets you going this evening, who am I to judge?” he shrugs slowly, languorously, letting his hand slide from the wall beside your head, the other cupping around your chin to bring you in for a slow and tantalizing kiss.

You hold your breath, trying hard to remember to not drop your precious cargo. He departs, one last suck of your bottom lip between his until it releases with a pop. “Don’t you fret, I’ll get the study nice and warm for you… and your,” a frown turns at the corner of his mouth, “… supposed surprise.”

“Don’t you worry, I won’t overwhelm you with too much joy or peace or love,” you comment, interjecting as he opens his mouth, “and I’ll keep the costumes and singing to a minimum.”

His mouth snaps shut, disgusted beyond measure like he swallowed bile, “Gods… I swear… I am not in the mood… Keep your festivities to a minimum, and as for costumes, I’ll have you naked, preferably…”

He trods into the study. Grumpy, disgruntled. So easy to tease. But you keep it soft. Light hearted. Knowing there was more to his cold and cranky demeanor than just selfishness.

Your mind races… would a spawn of Cazador have even had anything for Yuletide?

You busy yourself, prepping your gift, tenderly setting it on a table. The little plant seems so unassuming, it makes you smile, knowing just what it will mean to him. At least you hope.

He’s been so sour about this time of year, and your heart aches, that one little moment, that clue as to why he might just hate Yuletide.

You ready the bottle from the Apothecary; the shining golden liquid inside warm to the touch as you carry both across the hall and into the study.

He waits, the fire cheerily roaring in the grate, but he stands across the room, in the shadows. His back towards you, you can feel his tension rolling off those bunching and lean muscles as he gazes out the window into the winter night. Arms folded neatly over his chest, you see him shift as he hears you enter, but he doesn’t turn.

You wait. You watch him shifting on his toes, eyes fixed into the dark distance. Until at last he speaks. “When I was… well, before…” he speaks quietly. Pressed. Careful not to mention any names, not that he needs to. “…Yuletide was just another night, another time sent out in our bodies for the bidding, another night spent luring victims, only one that smelled more like oranges and spice and smoke.” His shoulders hunched slightly, arms holding tighter as he hugged himself tighter. “I used to dream of gifts and punch and music. Instead I got only more shame and abuse and… loneliness…”

You move, setting your items down on the small end table before you hurry to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“Yuletide never came for me. I was always alone… and in darkness…”

“Yuletide doesn’t come in packages and ribbons and songs, Astarion,” you nuzzle your head into his chest. “And now you’ll never be alone again, my love,” you smile into the crushed softness of his doublet. “And… if you let me share my cliché gift with you… you might find yourself not in darkness any longer either…”

He eases in a split second. You look into his face, surprised and hopeful against his better judgment. “Really?” he stumbled on his words. “I -I mean I know about the not-lonely-anymore bit, thank you…”

He hesitates, crimson eyes darting to the corner of his gaze, wanting to see what you got him.

Then he sees it, turning. A little plant, leaves deepest green, a round, fleshy bud nestled in the verdant leaves. “Is that…?” he breathes.

“A Solaris,” you beam at him. “I had to pay that apothecary no small amount of coin to get it… not to mention I had to hustle his chief competitor a bit in order to really seal the deal.” You laugh at the way his face is just… innocent. Hopeful. Happy. “But for a flower that blooms with light and warmth like the sun, one day a year…”

You watch the corner of his mouth grin wistfully.

“…I figured it would make for a very merry Yule. So you could feel the light of the sun without… you know…”

“Roasting like a chestnut on an open fire?”

You giggle against the macabre image. “Yes, that.” You pick up the little vial, its golden glow pulsing. “Here,” you murmur, proffering the small glass bottle. “The key to unlocking your vampire-safe sunlight.” You reach it towards him, his palm opening, fingers unfurling for it.

“I…” he swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob, emotional as he holds back so many feelings and words. “Thank you,” he finally relents, letting you place the vial in his cold and near-trembling palm. You watch his face, the little lines of his smile deepening as he holds the glass bottle, its warmth seeping into his chilled, undead skin.

“If it’s your first Yuletide gift in two-hundred years, I’m glad I can make it count,” you murmur, trying not to disturb the glow that seems to come from under his pale and lustrous skin.

“You’ve… found your way to… let me feel the sun again,” he smirks at you briefly, “if only for tonight.”

You simper, pouting your lips, catching his eyes with all the allure you can muster. “That’s the idea, my sweet vampire, to give you something because I love you.”

He closes the distance, eager, anxious. But you press the tips of your fingers on his lips. “Ah, ah,” you grin. “Don’t risk that elixir with one of your all-consuming, fang-filled kisses. Why don’t you… open your gift?”

For a moment, he looks nervous. Just the tip of his fang biting into his lower lip as he uncorks the glowing elixir. A slight, sweet scent fills your nose, it makes you thrill.

Almost as much as the childish smile dancing on his lips as he pours it at the base of the massive, rounded yellow bud.

Heat fills the air, a soft shimmering begins to stretch from the plant, until, petal by petal, it opens.

A ball of light perches in its center, pulsing and glowing and lighting up your study more than any fire ever could.

Light in the dark. The sun itself shining.

Astarion’s eyes are wide, his mouth open in shock. “It feels… so good,” he whispers, as if he is scared that the second he looks away, blinks his eyes, or moves it will disappear.

“It does, the sun itself for you to bask in for one day, my love…” you reply, crossing to close your window curtains, to keep the light for yourself. And because, your stomach flutters, you anticipate just what will come next. You turn, already undoing your own buttons of your tunic. Expecting him to already be naked, to be bathing his cold and pale skin in the light.

But he’s not.

He’s sitting on the settee, knees hugged tight into his chest. Just watching. Fixated on the swirling golden blossom on the table before him.

Grinning like a fool.

Still, you tug your shirt from over your head, and the Solaris’ light does warm your skin, feeling no different than the true sun. Slowly, you round to sit beside him, half naked and totally ignored in favor of your gift. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t mind. Not as you hear his little giggles in his throat, the little clenches of his body as he feels… giddy.

You scoot right beside him, the skin of your torso pressing into that linen shirt of his, and you feel him leaning back against you, his head tipping to rest on the top of yours.

His breath washes through your hair, that clean scent on his skin, always the same, always making your body hum with desire and awaken with love. Then you hear it, faintly, he hums a melody, the same carol you had heard outside the tavern. His voice is deep, sweet if imperfect. But it’s music to your ears. His arm reaches around you then, a slight jolt as he realizes he’s touching nothing but skin as he skates his fingers across your back and down your arm.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, more sultry than surprised. “I do see you are taking full advantage of your own present, darling.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for my own in exchange,” you simper and pout, your hand reaching to stroke up those sinews of his thigh.

His chuckle tickles the top of your head as he places a kiss there. “Well, if you don’t mind not having it wrapped in frills and ribbons, I suppose I could give it to you now, my love.”

“What need have I for ribbons when I can have you… taking me…. in the sunlight again?”

“Just like old times,” he purrs, a single hand reading around to slip into the band of your sensible breeches for winter. “It always was a pity I never got one last time with you, basking in the heat of your warm flesh and the light of the sun before that blessing of the tadpole disappeared.” He grins, fingers slipping down between your thighs, which you have already conveniently spread for him. “What a gift to share in it again, a true Yuletide miracle, my love.”

That cool touch pierces where you are hot and aching. Where you burn and blister with your own heat. A little moan escapes your lips, your hands shuffling off the thick material of your breeches, words pleading for more from Astarion. You stumble over your “P-please…” as you stand to let that fabric shuffle off your feet.

He’s just watching your writhe on his fingers, bathed in the light. Those crimson eyes unblinking and ravenous. “Feeling merry, are you?” he purrs. “Bursting with joy yet?” His voice is rife with that seduction and wicked bite that makes you instantly wetter.

“A little more effort, and I’m sure I’ll be louder than any of those drunken carolers,” you whimper, the brush of his hand unlacing his breeches presses against your mound and thigh, the pressure of his other fingers deep inside you, more numerous than before in your cunt, guiding you to straddle his lap.

You slide right over, hands braced on his shoulders, gripping into the decadently soft material of his tunic. It’s so calm, so bright, this magical sunlight on your bare back. Your hands ruck up his own shirt, an approving smirk dancing over his breathtaking face as you sweep it off his body in one pull.

The moan from his mouth, hanging slack as he feels the warmth and light on him again, it makes you quiver and thrill. “Gods,” he breathes, “to bask in the light again…” his voice is wet, thick with desire, with emotion. He shuts his eyes, head leaning back against the settee, hands finally tugging his breeches apart to let his cock free. You feel him, his hands lifting it from its confines, fingers silkenly stroking himself. A groan from your mouth, bemoaning that emptiness inside you, your own hand takes up the pressure he started to build.

“Tch,” he sucks his teeth, still reclining to savor the warmth of the light and the heat your folds on his lap, “you don’t lift a finger tonight for your own pleasure, my love.” He pulls your body flush against him, guiding his cock to run back and forth through your hot and dripping seam. Slowly, his hand presses at the top of your hip, letting your sink down just an inch or so over that blunt head. Then he sneaks you up, sliding away from your aching channel. “Perhaps I should have let you undo my laces, unwrap your present, as it were…” he shrugs, centering your body over that cool hard erection. “I can make it up to you in so many ways,” he growls happily into your lips, sucking them in to a long and tender kiss.

Your hands grip into his shoulders, his hold on your waist steadying you as he thrusts upwards. The fullness of him inside you at last, that stretching friction warms you more than the soft flow of light over your back. Eyes closing, you can almost imagine that little glad back in the Emerald Grove. That morning you woke, sore and tingling from the way you had joined for the first time.

That morning light that once warmed your bodies as you took in the sight of him completely, scars and all. That way your heart first went out to him…

But this, this is so much better. Melting as you bask not only in the heat that defies the dark and cold, but that thrumming seer of your love. His hands rock your hips, letting you shimmy and buck as he matches your every movement with those impeccable thrusts. His kiss dances with your lips, tongue taking yours in his hold, tangling and darting as you lose yourself in him.

Warm all over. Loved all over.

You feel his touch wandering, tracing to cup the swell of your ass, fingers gripping into your flesh with each ride you make on him.

And you know he is feeling that light, the same that caresses his face, illuminating those lines and freckles and ridges of cheekbone that steal your breath with their beauty every day. You break from his mouth to watch him, lips still twitching and slack as he pants and groans.

His eyelids lower, that veiled gaze watching the way your body bounces on his lap, his stare darting to watch where you take him all the way in. Where the increasingly wet slaps of your body echo to fill the little study. Where your own body burns like a furnace, fucked hard to scaling hot as your bliss blisters.

Back arching, hands clawing into the cool muscles of his shoulders, you let it all go, letting that heat on your back and the friction of his fucking wash through you, splitting you apart with your climax. His arms embrace you harder as you spasm, your hips rocking at random, your body bracing against his as your pleasure floods you and steals your every conscious thought. His muscles clench, his belly brushing against yours, his thighs beneath you hitching and tight. You feel him pulsing inside you, his voice resonating in one ear with his groans and sighs as he fills you. Your folds drenched with all the hot slick it can handle, pouring and puddling on his lap.

Vision blurring, you come to, bit by bit. Head resting on his shoulder, his own rasping, unsteady breath washing to cool the warm glow over your flesh, you nuzzle tightly against him.

And you realize, for once, his skin feels warm to the touch. Glowing and heated from the light before you and your love-making. The stillness breaks with a gentle sigh from his iron-wrought chest. Air whistles in your ear. “You win, darling,” he whispers as he places a kiss into the tumbled mess of your hair. “Yuletide can be… merry… blissful even,” he acknowledges, not a begrudging hint in his voice.

“Miracles happen, Yuletide magic in the air… I think your heart has grown three sizes tonight…” you giggle, raising your head, your cheeks flushed and body humming to feel him still inside you.

“I doubt it,” he smirks, rakish and mischievous, “but I do know of other bits of my anatomy that have had that benefit…” he grinds into you, dragging that still-throbbing cock of his around your walls. He gives you a rakish flash of his fangs before you swiftly find yourself laid out flat on your back, sprawled across the bed of the settee. The weight of his body crushes you into the soft velvet, and your body grows unbearable… hot, especially as he sucks your ear fully into his hungry mouth. He whispers, “And you say this Solaris blooms for a day… well then, darling.” He gives that wicked giggle, “you are about to have a night that is not so silent… if you know what I mean.”

“I count on it,” you purr back, lost in the brightness in his crimson eyes. “I want the most out of my gift, after all…”

🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️🌟🕯️

🕯️I hope I got all the tag requests, thank you all for the love. I can’t wait to see what you think, dear readers 💞

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amywritesthings · 5 months

Text

a silver truce in snow. / a levi holiday ficlet

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Snow is a mythical thing in the Underground City. Now, on a Scout mission, you get to experience the real deal. Naturally that means starting a snowball fight with Levi Ackerman - but make it horny. tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, explicit language, snowball fight, secret relationship, kisses, power/authority kinks, sexual tension, implied sexual content, touch-starved idiots, friends to lovers, fluff w/a little slutty note: set in the universe of silver underground credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the fourth day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!

Snow was such a bitch.

Beautiful, something people in the Underground City would never get to see in the flesh, but such a bitch.

Carrying the last of the supplies up the mountain yourself towards the rendezvous cabin had been one hell of a choice.

Captain Levi was explicit about trudging on foot and leaving the horses behind, so it was up to the team to meet with the rest of the Scouts waiting with Erwin.

It's not a competition to get there, but of course it's a competition to get there before Oluo — not that beating him is hard to do.

Petra and the others are eons ahead, likely already nestled inside tonight's shelter. You move slower, somewhere between a purposeful and accidental pace.

Because it's snow. Real, tangible snow.

At first you were excited to see the flurry, experience the cold, for yourself — snow was just a fairytale in smuggled books for the kids in the Underground City.

Now?

Now you’re sinking one foot into another pile of snow, and you’re really over the novelty.

(You can’t remember the last time you felt your fingers in these mittens.)

“Tired already?”

A voice calls to you from the top of the hill, and the snow beneath your feet illuminates.

Your cold-worn chin lifts to the sudden array of light: Levi Ackerman stands over you, nose pink from the chill and brow quirked with interest.

The fire from the lanterns illuminating the cabin create a halo effect behind his emerald Scout hood.

His words are meant to be a jab, but you know what he’s really saying:

Sorry I couldn’t help.

Helping signals favoritism.

Favoritism would sell you out — to Erwin, to Hange, to the team — in five seconds flat.

(You could — and have — argued that most of the squad already has an idea. Forever bound to the cards held to his chest, Levi insists keeping your secrets to yourselves.)

“And you’re not?” you ask in an exhausted huff.

“I can carry supplies double my weight,” he replies in that playful monotone, “unlike someone I know.”

“Oh?” You exhale again. “You calling me weak, Ackerman?”

“I’m not the one out of breath, am I?”

Levi retorts in jest, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Well, then — if that’s how he’s going to be.

“You might wanna check on Oluo,” you add, taking one last step to land on flatter earth. You wipe the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your mitten and drop the supply bag to the ground. “I think I lost him down the hill.”

“He’ll make it up the mountain eventually,” Levi reassures, relieving the second sack off of your hands.

You relent, not willing to spoil the moment by pointing out that this can be considered helping.

“He’s all the way down the hill?”

He tosses the sack to the cabin’s stoop, then bends to remove the first supply bag from the snow. He tosses that, too, and fully turns to greet you.

His cheeks are equally pink from the cold, and you can't stop staring.

(It's adorable. He'd hate being called adorable.)

"Yeah," you nod.

Levi trudges through the snow towards you.

“All the way?”

"Yeah, why?" you repeat with confusion.

You see where it’s going as soon as he crosses the threshold into your orbit.

"And, Lieutenant, in your best estimation," Levi continues, feigning professionalism, "it will take at least ten minutes for Oluo to reach the Scout cabin?"

A smile grows on your face, careful yet delighted.

“Fifteen minutes, Captain, at the very least.”

Your body is compelled forward when Levi loops an arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

The laugh on the tip of your tongue dies when he presses a freezing kiss to your lips.

It's risky, but you're so glad he's willing to take it.

When it comes to expeditions, your lives are a simple mosaic of stolen kisses and phantom touches. Alone time is impossible when you’re traveling on the road.

(Except it's just usually you who makes the first move.)

The dark-haired man sighs, breath hot in comparison to his lips, when you return the kiss with equal passion.

He turns his head to deepen the stolen kiss, eager for a moment — only a moment — where he can have you.

Everything feels warmer in this small pocket of two.

Emboldened by his spontaneity, you flick his lower lip with your tongue.

Without fail, Levi makes a noise of want.

His fingers under his gloves squeeze your side for foundation.

( Maybe tonight, if you’re quiet.)

Except you had your own plans.

Surely he'll veto a midnight tryst at your childish desires, but what you're about to do to ruin the moment was decided upon well before this surprise kiss.

Somewhere around the time of Levi leaving everyone else in the snowy dust and now, Gunther had taught you about things kids on the surface did when it snowed.

Build snowmen.

Make snow angels.

Snowballs, though... a packed little ball of snow, ready to launch at a moment's notice.

A fight.

Levi Ackerman was so focused on the two bags over your right shoulder that he never saw the traveling ball you'd made while climbing the mountain.

A sizeable weapon, not wholly round but resembling enough of what Gunther showed you on the road.

And now he's focused on the kiss that he doesn’t see your arm rise—

Slowly, without detection—

Abruptly you pull away, sliding back to create space.

His eyes belated flutter open, lips pursed in warmth by the kiss — then explode wide when he sees a glob of white.

Bam.

It's a successful first throw.

Levi stumbles, sputtering and wiping his cheeks and chin with gusto.

"James—!"

You back up with a laugh to the gray sky, all too proud of your accomplishment.

It’s a full belly laugh, giddy with childlike excitement that you managed to pull that off.

"That's what you get for going way ahead of the rest of us, Ackerman."

The hair framing his face is dipping with water, pout palpable.

He looks like a human-sized cat, sopping and annoyed.

“You little shit,” he growls, but it’s not out of anger.

It's determination.

He bends at the knees to gather snow into his gloves with quick precision, leaving you little time to run backwards.

“Where’re you going?” he calls. "What, you thought you'd get one hit and win?"

"Levi!" you shriek when he throws the first snowball.

Humanity’s Strongest doesn’t miss.

His snowball lands against your white trousers, wetting the fabric.

You use the hem of your cloak to try and protect yourself from the inevitable war you’ve started.

“I’m sorry!” you exclaim, unable to stop laughing.

(Clearly not sorry enough, since you reach down to start making up a sphere in retaliation.)

“Uh-huh,” he huffs, doing the same. “Should’ve thought that one through before you threw snow in my face.”

“You had us walk up a hill!” you call to him, and he holds up another snowball as a threat.

You continue sliding backwards, doing your best to quickly compact a ball.

You fail, miserably.

“So now my Lieutenant complains?” Levi asks, and a fire ignites in your belly.

You’ll never get over him calling you his.

(Mine, he whispers in your ear at night when your wrists are pinned over your head, one crossed over another, as his other hand holds your chin in place. Levi has to make sure your eyes are on him and only him when he enters you, slow and deliberate, to witness your eyes flutter from the stretch. You’re mine.)

He throws another.

It hits you square in the chest.

Every time you throw another pathetic little snowball back at him, the dark-haired man easily dodges the attack.

He’s agile, focused, as he steps closer and closer.

You yelp again when you manage to finally dodge a fluffy puck coming right for your face.

Your hands shoot high, parallel to your head, to surrender.

“Truce!”

Levi squints, making up another snowball.

“A truce? I don’t think you get to call one.”

You take a leap of faith, dropping to your knees in the heavy snowfall.

Your clothes are going to be soaked right through, but you don’t care.

The look in Levi’s eyes when he realizes you’re giving up in this fashion is enough to make the chill running up your body worth it.

He nears, snowball in hand.

You lift your chin, your gaze meeting stern gray eyes.

You have to pray those cabin windows are as frosted on the inside as they look on the outside, but Levi blocks you from view as he stands directly in front of you.

“What are your terms and conditions, Lieutenant?” he asks, voice heady.

He rips the mitten off by his teeth, ripping it clear off of his free hand.

A pale hand reaches for your chin, thumb pressed against the center of your lower lip.

You don’t move, hot in the face from sudden arousal.

“I—”

His thumb glides along your frozen mouth, back and forth, allowing you time to contemplate your answer.

Nothing comes to mind.

You’re too focused by how warm the digit feels against your weather-worn skin.

“Speechless?” he mocks. “That’s unlike you.”

When you fail to speak again, Levi leans down to whisper in your ear.

“We can call a truce for now, but this? Isn’t over.”

All the air escapes your lungs when his lips press a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to your earlobe.

“Meet me at midnight, my door. We'll draw up a peace treaty, but on my terms."

That kiss turns into a nibble, and you make a small nose of desire.

Levi's voice is an octave deeper.

"Is that understood?”

If it wasn't so cold, you'd fuck him in this damn snow storm.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your chin and give a kitten lick to his jawline.

“Yes, sir,” you mock in return.

You’ve only ever called him sir to grate his nerves.

Now isn’t any different.

He pulls away.

"Good."

Opening his other gloved palm, Levi makes a point to show the readied snowball — only to drop it back to the pillowy earth below.

"I won't tolerate lateness."

Before he turns, you see it:

A grin, gone as fast as it appears, on his lips.

You can't help but grin yourself, heart racing at the night that lay ahead.

Yeah.

This fight isn't over.

And you'll gladly take the punishment that fits the crime.

#levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x reader #levi x you #aot x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fic #captain levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin fic #holiday one shot #holiday fanfic

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blacktacmopsi · 1 month

Text

The NSFW Alphabet: Keegan Russ Platinum Collector's Edition

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

A- Aftercare (What does it look like?)

Keegan is great at this...in his own way. He'll hold you close as you come down and just remain silent listening to your breathing and heartbeat. He'll cradle you against him enjoying the soothing silence.

B- Body count (How many people have they fucked)

Not many. Keegan is about quality not quantity. Couple this with his personality of not being social, his numbers are VERY low.

C- Cum (Where do they do it? How much is there?)

Keegan likes his creampies. If you let him, he'll give you a good one and boy, will it be a CREAM pie indeed. His production is thick and he might ask you if he can look at it and admire it. He thinks you look very beautiful with it in you.

D- Daydreaming (How often do they find themselves having dirty (day)dreams about their partner)

Keegan sometimes daydreams about his partner if he's feeling particularly horny. If he's single, he'll just daydream about sex or masturbating.

E- Emotion (Do they fuck when angry? Excited? Do they get emotional after?)

Oh, does Keegan love the emotional side of sex. He likes the eroticism that can be built. He could best be described as a black hole or whirlpool when it comes to his emotional intensity- building and building before it becomes very intense that you're just sucked in completely in the feelings he can coax out of you. He's not the kind to hate fuck or anything like that. At most, he might get a bit handsy if he's pent up after coming home from a deployment.

F- Famous (Would they ever be a camgirl/boy? How popular would their channel be?)

Absolutely not. Keegan isn't social so showing his ass or dick on camera to randos is never going to happen.

G- Goated (What are they the absolute best at?)

Dirty talk! Keegan can make you cum with his sexy ass voice telling you some of the he dirtiest things you've ever heard. Get ready because his words are a real panty dropper.

H- Hair (How much do they shave? Does the carpet match the drapes? Do they mind hair on their partner?)

Keegan is never bare fully. He bounces between manscaping and letting it all grow out. All his body hair is black like the hair on his head and he totally doesn't mind his woman being in her natural state. He kind of digs it.

I- Intimacy (How intimate are they during it?)

Very. As mentioned, Keegan prefers the more emotional side of sex and with this comes a deep intimacy. He's not the kind to do one night stands but would definitely bare his soul to you in a committed relationship in the bedroom.

J- Joking (How serious are they during the deed?)

This can vary. Keegan isn't allways Mr. Super Serious. He can get playful and silly but it all depends on his mood.

K- Kinks (Their five biggest)

Though he's not one for straight up kinks he does have some things he really likes.

Creampies: He REALLY likes cumming in you. He'll want to see it drip out and he might even push it back in with his fingers.

Mutual masturbation: If you are in a well established relationship with Keegan, he'll want to watch some porn with you and go downtown to rub town. He'll either do it to you or you both sit next to each other and do it to yourselves.

Sensual massage. He's not opposed to doing this as a form of foreplay. Plus, it feels really good both giving and receiving.

Dirty talk. Tell him the filthiest things you can. If you can get him groaning with your words, you're golden.

Oral. Suck this man's dick, now! He'll roll over for you if you give him a stellar BJ Blazkowicz.

L- Location (Where are they down to fuck?)

Really anywhere private and away from the public eye. Ideally Keegan likes to get jiggy with it in the confines of his home. But if the armory is empty on base and you're both in the mood then it's fair game.

M- Music (Do they like to listen to songs during the deed? If so what ones?)

Dragula by Rob Zombie on repeat. Just kidding. Keegan prefers the natural sounds of love making and fucking. Let him hear those moans and whimpers and he'll contribute his as well making a symphony of sexual pleasure.

N- No (Something they would never do).

Keegan isn't into anything that would deal with body fluids like shit and piss. He also is not down for sex regarding things that are too out there for his square ass. Dressing as clowns? Age play? Diapers? Licking batteries? Hard pass! In fact, don't bring the unusual to the bedroom with him.

O- Orgy (Will they ever have group sex? If so with who?)

Hell no! Keegan? Mr. Not-very-social- around- people? You have a higher chance of meeting bigfoot before you see his glorious dick in an orgy.

P- Position (What position do they favorite? Are they the giver/receiver in the position?)

Keegan is not picky about positions but he does have a soft spot for Cowgirl because he likes to see you and your body fully. Really, he's both a giver & receiver depending on the position and the mood of what's going on.

Q- Quirks (Do they have any weird traits in bed?)

He might request to keep the skull mask on. Wheather this is a joke or not is unknown.

R- Rough (What’s their pace?)

Keegan can get rough if you can coax that side of him out. If you're having the deep, erotic sex with him then the pace is slow and intense. If you're having a good fuck with him, it will go fast.

S- Stamina (How many rounds can they last?)

It ain't what it used to be. He's at that point in his life where, depending, he could either go again for a round two or sleep...and sleep is probably the more likely outcome.

T- Toys (Do they use em? What ones? On their partner or themselves?)

Keegan isn't one for toys. He's old school with his hand. If you bring a toy to use in the bedroom, he'll use it on you if you request.

U- Urgent (Their opinions on quickies)

Keegan would rather not. It's rare that he does a quicky these days opting to have a long intimate session.

V- Volume (How loud are they in bed?)

Oh pookies, he is a moaner and a groaner and a talker. HE. IS. VOCAL.

W- WorldWideWeb (What sex things have they googled? What’s their porn history?)

Keegan has a few porn bookmarks saved. A few are good creampie vids and others are things like shower sex.

X- Xtra (A fun lil random fact)

Keegan once read an erotic novel and he loved it. It's something he'll never admit to.

Y- Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Well, Keegan is a man so it skews high. But he is in his late thirties so it's not like it was when he was in his twenties. His drive is healthy for a man his age.

Z- Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

These days, Keegan can knock out after pretty quickly. But he is considerate and will spoon with you as he drifts off to slumberland.

No pressure tags: Whoever sees this :)

#BlackTacMopsi Writes Garbage #call of duty #keegan p russ #cod keegan #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan cod #keegan cod ghosts #keegan smut #call of duty keegan #keegan russ #keegan russ smut

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slvthrs · 1 year

Note

can you do a full smut where yn is so overwhelmed and frusturated over some family problems and vinnie makes her relax

yes cause i have family problems rn lolz, i went SO overboard w this, its 1k words lol

┆.° ♡ — NSFW UNDER THE CUT

University sucks. The assignments, the pressure, and it gets even worse when your dad enters the mix

You've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Your dad has been putting a lot of pressure on you to get good grades and make something of yourself, and your boyfriend Vinnie has been trying to be supportive, but he just doesn't seem to understand how stressed out you feel.

Your relationship with your dad has always been strained, your two very different people and whenever you were growing up your dad could never come to terms with the fact that you weren't the perfect angel he wanted as a daughter.

You're sitting on the couch in your apartment, flipping through your phone and trying to distract yourself from your problems, when Vinnie walks in the door. He takes one look at your face and knows immediately that something's wrong.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, coming over to sit next to you on the couch.

You tell him about the fight you had with your dad earlier in the day. He'd been lecturing you about your grades again, telling you that you needed to work harder if you wanted to get anywhere in life. You were so frustrated that you ended up storming out of the house without saying anything.

Vinnie listens patiently as you vent your frustrations. He knows that your dad means well, but he also knows how much pressure you're under and how you and your dads relationship has always been riddled with problems. When you finish talking, he takes your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"Listen, I know it's hard right now," he says. "But you're doing great. You're smart, and you're talented, and you're going to go places. Don't let your dad get you down."

You feel a little bit better after hearing Vinnie's kind words, but you're still wound up from the argument. Vinnie notices this too, and he suggests that the two of you do something to take your mind off things.

"Hey c'mere baby." He coos pulling you towards him.

He suggests a movie night just for the two of you and you pick some cheesy hallmark movie to watch with him and he gets the snacks ready as you situate yourselves on your couch.

As the film starts, you try to focus on the plot, but your mind keeps wandering. You feel Vinnie's arm around you, and you lean into him, hoping that his warmth will calm your racing thoughts.

As the show progresses, you find yourself getting more and more into it. The tension builds as the characters face their own challenges and conflicts. You can't help but feel invested in their stories and their struggles.

Suddenly, you feel Vinnie's hand on your leg. You look up at him and see that his eyes are fixed on the screen, but you can tell that he's feeling the same tension that you are. You feel a flush creeping up your neck and a fluttering in your stomach.

As the movie reaches its climax, Vinnie turns to you and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. You respond eagerly, feeling all of your stress and worries melt away. You let yourself get lost in the moment, enjoying the feeling of being so close to someone you care about.

All the stress and anxiety you were feeling before disappears as you melt into Vinnie's embrace. The show is long forgotten as your body responds to his touch. You feel alive and present in the moment, completely consumed by the passion between the two of you.

"Shit princess, I hate seeing you hurt." He's gentle words compliment the way he pushes you on the couch for you to lay down and he kisses down the column of your neck.

"Vin..." You breath out

"Yes baby," His reply is instant as he locks his eyes with yours.

"Make me feel better."

"Anything for you." The words come out of his mouth like a prayer as lips trail down the curves of your body pulling off your bra and latching onto your nipples.

His kisses trail down to your nipples causing your body to go cold, his tongue rolls your bud and catches your nipples in his teeth.

"Vinnieeee" You whine as he continue the motion, he's so sweet with the way he makes you arch your back and stuff your chest into his face.

His lips finally detach from your chest and he trails his kisses down the plush of your stomach, pulling your shorts and panties of in one swift motion.

The kisses don't stop until he reaches your cunt, his left hand holds your hips down whilst you use your hands to pull his right hand up and start dragging your tongue along the length of his knuckles.

It catches his attention enough that he stops his kisses and sits up, starting intently at your actions.

You take his ring and middle finger into your mouth as you bat your eyelashes up at him, you suck on them not taking your eyes of Vinnie's as he's staring so hard that it looks like he's trying to commit the image to memory.

"Shit baby you look so pretty I'm forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing here" He lets out with a chuckle

You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a pop! and lean up to kiss him before you lay back down.

It's like the kiss rewires his brain since he remembers what he's doing again and situates himself in between your thighs one more.

His tongue drags through your folds, making you squirm above him and he uses both his hands to keep your thighs spread apart for him as the sounds of him eating you out along with your moans echo in the room.

Your thighs tremble and delicate moans fill Vinnie's ears as he sucks your clit causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and just chuckles before continuing with his motions.

It's not long before your jerking your hip forward and arching into his mouth and cumming on his face.

He pushes your legs apart to get up and leans over to you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before getting up to grab you a towel but not before taking his shirt of and tossing it to you to put it on.

He comes back to see you laying on the couch but instead with his shirt on and he quickly cleans you up and then sits down next to you whilst simultaneously pulling you towards him.

"Oh wait look at this!" He exclaims whilst pulling out your favourite drink from behind him

"Oh my good baby, you remembered!" You beam grabbing the drink and opening it.

"Of course I did, I love you princess." He responds kissing you again.

"You taste like my cum by the way." You say as you pull apart from the kiss

"Good that means I did my job right."

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie

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muiitoloko · 1 month

Note

Omg I love all your stories about Alan and his characters!! Especially Love Actually’s Harry stories caught my heart. I was wondering is ”Why?” going to get a sequel? Maybe showing Y/N and Harry happy again, perhaps with a long awaited child?

Thank you so much for your posts!! They brighten my days! ✨❤️

Title: Promise

Summary: The promises were fulfilled.

Pairing: Harry (love actually) × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut and happy ending.

Author's Notes: I'm thrilled that you enjoy my stories featuring Alan Rickman's characters, especially the ones about Harry in Love Actually! Honestly, when I was writing this fanfic with Harry, I actually toyed with the idea of giving them a bittersweet ending because, well, a bit of heartache can add depth, right? But I totally get that readers often prefer the warm fuzzies, so I decided to give Harry and the reader the happy ending everyone expects. Thanks for brightening my day with your kind words! ✨❤️

First, Second, Third and Fourth part here.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, you watched Harry's dedication to rebuilding your relationship with a mixture of awe and gratitude. He was relentless in his efforts to make things right, showering you with affection and attention in ways you hadn't experienced in years. Gone were the days of meaningless gestures and last-minute gifts; instead, Harry took the time to truly connect with you, to make you feel loved and cherished in every possible way.

You found yourself falling back in love with him, rediscovering the joy and excitement of being with him that had been missing for so long. It was like going back to the early days of your relationship, when you were both young and carefree, lost in the dizzying throes of love.

But amidst the whirlwind of emotions and newfound happiness, there was still one topic that loomed large between you: children. It was a subject that had always been delicate, fraught with the pain of disappointment and unfulfilled dreams. You both wanted children desperately, had tried for years to conceive, only to be met with heartbreak and despair each time.

And now, knowing that Harry had harbored resentment towards you for your inability to conceive made the fear in your heart grow stronger. What if he came to hate you for it again? What if history repeated itself, and you found yourselves back in the same cycle of hurt and betrayal?

It was a conversation you knew you needed to have, no matter how difficult or painful it might be. And so, on that day when Harry came to your apartment to spend the day with you, you gathered your courage and broached the subject that had been weighing heavily on your mind.

"Harry," you began, your voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in your chest. "Can we talk about something?"

Harry looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "Of course, love," he replied, his voice warm with affection. "What's on your mind?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. "It's about... children," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's a sensitive topic for both of us, but I think we need to address it."

Harry's expression softened even further, his eyes filled with understanding as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his thumb stroking soothing circles on the back of your hand. "It's something we've both wanted for so long, and it breaks my heart that we haven't been able to make it happen."

Tears welled in your eyes at his words, the pain of your shared disappointment washing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm scared, Harry," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Scared that you'll come to hate me again, like you did before."

Harry's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "I wouldn't hate you, not anymore," he declared, his voice steady and resolute. "I was foolish to ever feel resentful toward you. It wasn't your fault; it never was. It was me, unable to resolve my own feelings, letting them fester and grow into something ugly. But I'm different now; I've matured, and I see things clearly. The answer is no, I will never hate you."

The weight of his words lifted a burden from your heart, filling you with a sense of relief and gratitude. "But what if we never have children, Harry?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you struggled to contain your tears. "Can you live with that? Can we... can we be enough for each other?"

Harry's gaze never wavered as he met your eyes, his expression filled with unwavering determination. "We already are, love," he replied, his voice steady and sure. "You and me, together against the world. That's all I've ever wanted, all I'll ever need."

And in that moment, as you looked into Harry's eyes, you knew that he meant every word. Despite the pain and disappointment that had plagued your relationship, despite the uncertainty of what the future might hold, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way.

With tears of gratitude streaming down your cheeks, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Harry's, sealing your love and commitment to each other in a tender kiss. And as you held each other in a tight embrace, lost in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

In the days that followed, the weight of the unresolved issue of children lifted from your shoulders, and you and Harry found yourselves moving forward with renewed hope and determination. There were moments of doubt and insecurity, of course, memories of Harry's betrayal still lingering in the back of your mind. But Harry's unwavering commitment to rebuilding your relationship, coupled with his newfound openness and trust, helped ease your fears and reassure you of his love.

One significant gesture that spoke volumes about Harry's sincerity was his willingness to share his cell phone with you. Previously, he had kept it close, always vigilant about keeping it nearby and not letting you touch it. But now, he handed you the freedom to access his cell phone, giving you the password without hesitation. Likewise, you reciprocated, allowing Harry free access to your phone.

This newfound transparency and trust brought a sense of relief and security to your relationship. Over time, as Harry's calmness in letting you use his cell phone became evident, you found that the insecurities tormenting your mind began to dissipate. You no longer felt the need to constantly check Harry's phone for signs of infidelity; you came to trust him completely and fell even more in love with the new version of Harry.

But that day, as you stood there in disbelief, staring at the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands that you received after visiting the doctor, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. For years, you and Harry had tried to conceive, only to be met with disappointment time and again. And now, in the most unexpected moment, when you had finally made peace with the issue of having children, you were pregnant.

The shock of the news left you feeling numb at first, unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of what it meant. A baby—there was a baby growing inside you, a precious little life that was a testament to your love for each other. It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, testing your resolve just when you thought you had found peace.

But as the initial shock wore off, a sense of overwhelming happiness washed over you. A baby! You were going to have a baby, something you had dreamed of for so long. Despite the uncertainties and fears that lingered in the back of your mind, the prospect of becoming parents filled you with a sense of joy and excitement that you had never experienced before.

You debated whether to call Harry and share the news immediately, but something inside you urged caution. Maybe it was the fear of jinxing it, or perhaps the desire to surprise him with the news in a special way. Whatever the reason, you decided to keep the news to yourself for now, planning to reveal it to Harry when the time was right.

So, you spent the rest of the day lost in thought, the pregnancy test clutched tightly in your hand as you contemplated the future. You imagined what it would be like to hold your baby in your arms, to see Harry's face light up with joy at the news. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that nagged at you, there was a sense of peace and contentment in knowing that you were finally going to have the family you had always longed for.

As the evening approached, you found yourself bustling around the kitchen, preparing dinner for you and Harry. It had become somewhat of a routine for him to come over after work, almost as if he unofficially lived with you. You smiled to yourself as you set the table, knowing that Harry would be arriving soon.

Sure enough, as the clock ticked closer to the time he usually arrived, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. Your heart skipped a beat as you hurried to open it, anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Hey, love," Harry greeted you with a warm smile as he stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. "How was your day?"

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of him. "It was good," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "How about yours?"

Harry's brow furrowed slightly as he studied your expression, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You seem... unusually happy," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

You chuckled nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the nervous fluttering in your chest. "Oh, just had a good day at work, that's all," you lied, your smile faltering slightly under his scrutiny.

To your relief, Harry seemed to accept your explanation without further question, his smile widening as he reached out to pull you into a tight hug. "Well, I'm glad to hear it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you savored the moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties in your mind, being with Harry always made everything feel right in the world.

After a moment, you reluctantly pulled away, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Come on, dinner's almost ready," you said, taking his hand and leading him towards the kitchen.

As you entered the cozy kitchen, the scent of home-cooked food filled the air, making Harry's stomach growl in anticipation. He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

"Well, well, well, looks like someone beat me to dinner tonight," he teased, giving you a playful nudge with his elbow. He then carelessly took his cell phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table, almost throwing it.

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his lighthearted banter. "I figured it was my turn to cook," you replied, shooting him a mischievous grin. "Besides, I wanted to surprise you."

Harry's smile softened, his gaze filled with affection as he pulled you into another hug. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at his words. "Only for you," you whispered, leaning into his embrace as you savored the moment.

As you sat down to enjoy your meal together, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and love. Despite the uncertainties and challenges that lay ahead, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way. And as you looked into Harry's eyes, you felt a sense of peace wash over you like a gentle wave, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

After a nice dinner filled with laughter and easy conversation, you and Harry retreated to the kitchen to tackle the aftermath of the meal. As you washed the dishes, Harry stood beside you, drying them with practiced efficiency.

The sound of water running and the clink of dishes filled the air as you worked side by side, the comfortable silence between you a testament to the ease of your relationship. It was moments like these that reminded you of why you had fallen in love with Harry in the first place, his unwavering support and dedication a constant source of comfort and reassurance.

As you reached for another plate, you felt Harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he nuzzled your neck with soft kisses.

"I missed you today," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Can't get enough of you, darling."

You melted against him, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a cozy blanket. Setting the dry plate aside, you turned to face Harry, your arms winding around his neck as you gazed up at him with adoration.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened, passion flaring between you as you lost yourselves in each other's embrace. Harry's hands roamed eagerly over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hot and fierce.

With a needy moan, you pressed yourself closer to him, your bodies melding together in a tangle of limbs and desire. The feel of Harry's lips trailing hot kisses along your neck sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"You drive me wild, you know that?" Harry murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he trailed his lips lower, his hands sliding down to grip your hips.

You gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch as you felt the familiar ache of desire building deep within you. "Only for you," you breathed, your voice laced with need as you pulled him closer, craving the feel of him against you.

With a hungry growl, Harry lifted you onto the countertop, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he claimed your lips in a heated kiss. The world fell away around you as you lost yourselves in the passion and intensity of the moment, the need for each other consuming you completely.

Clothes were shed in a frenzy of desire, the air thick with the heady scent of arousal as you gave yourselves over to the pleasure that pulsed between you. The countertop was hard against your back, but you hardly noticed as Harry buried himself deep inside you, filling you completely with each powerful thrust.

With each movement, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo. "Harry," you cried out, your voice a breathless whisper as you surrendered completely to the ecstasy that consumed you.

Harry's response to your plea was a low, guttural groan. You knew you had awakened something primal within him. With fierce determination, he lifted you effortlessly, still buried deep inside you, as he carried you to the bedroom. His queen deserved a bed, deserved everything, and Harry was determined to give you just that.

With a gentle yet firm hand, Harry laid you down on the soft mattress, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you. He wasted no time in rejoining you, his body hovering over yours as he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss.

"You're mine," Harry growled against your lips, his baritone voice sending shivers of desire down your spine. "All mine."

You melted into his embrace, lost in the intensity of his touch as he ravaged your lips with a ferocity that left you breathless. His hands roamed eagerly over your body, igniting a fire within you that burned hot and fierce.

With a low moan of pleasure, you wrapped your legs around Harry's waist, pulling him closer as he thrust himself inside you with a primal urgency. The sensation of him filling you completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the need for him overwhelming in its intensity.

"Harder, Harry," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea as you surrendered completely to the ecstasy that consumed you. "Please, I need you."

Harry's response was a low, guttural groan of approval as he complied with your request, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic. With each powerful thrust, he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo.

But Harry wasn't satisfied yet, not when he knew he could give you so much more. With a determined focus, he shifted his position, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. The change in position allowed him to hit your g-spot with precision, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh god, Harry," you cried out, your voice filled with ecstasy as he drove you to the brink of oblivion. "Right there, don't stop!"

Harry's response was a low, primal growl as he intensified his efforts, his movements becoming more frenzied and desperate. With each thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo.

And then, with a final, powerful thrust, you tumbled over the edge into ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of bliss washed over you. Harry followed soon after, his own release tearing through him with explosive force as he spilled himself inside you, claiming you as his own in a blaze of passion and desire.

As you both collapsed against each other, spent and satisfied, you couldn't help but revel in the aftermath of your passion. Harry's hooked nose brushed against your cheek as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips, his glasses askew and his chest heaving with exertion.

"You're incredible," Harry murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your passionate embrace with Harry, tears welled up in your eyes. The intensity of your love-making had stirred something deep within you, a profound sense of connection and belonging that left you feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Feeling loved in that moment, you knew you could no longer keep the news to yourself. As Harry nuzzled your neck with soft kisses, you felt his warmth enveloping you like a protective cocoon, and you knew it was time to share your joy with him.

But as you tried to compose yourself, Harry noticed your tears, his expression shifting from one of contentment to one of confusion and concern. His brows furrowed as he looked at you, a hint of desperation in his voice as he questioned what was wrong.

"Darling, what's the matter?" Harry asked, his baritone voice filled with worry. "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, trying to hold back your tears as you reached out to caress his cheek. "No, Harry, you didn't do anything wrong," you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I have something to tell you."

Harry's confusion deepened as he studied your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him with a tender kiss, pouring all your love and affection into the gesture.

When you pulled away, Harry looked at you with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, love?" he asked, his voice gentle and encouraging.

Taking a deep breath, you met Harry's gaze head-on, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm pregnant, Harry," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just went to the doctor today to do some tests, and... the doctor confirmed that I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence as Harry processed your words, his expression frozen in disbelief. Pregnant? The word echoed in his mind, sending shockwaves of realization through him.

Slowly, Harry reached out to take your hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he squeezed yours tightly. "Are you... are you serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks as you met Harry's gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes, Harry, I'm serious," you replied, your voice filled with love and hope. "We're going to have a baby."

Still in a state of disbelief, Harry remained silent, his eyes locked with yours as he struggled to process the magnitude of what you had just told him. You started to feel nervous, the silence stretching between you as you waited for his response.

"Harry?" you called out tentatively, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Are you okay?"

But Harry didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out of you and left the bedroom, leaving you sitting on the bed, confused and heartbroken. You wrapped the sheets around you, feeling a sense of sadness washing over you as you wondered if Harry was leaving, if he didn't like the news of the pregnancy.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you contemplated the possibility of Harry walking away from you. But just as despair began to consume you, you were interrupted by the sound of Harry returning to the bedroom.

Your heart skipped a beat as Harry knelt in front of you, a velvet box in his hand. With trembling fingers, he opened the box, revealing a beautiful ring nestled inside. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

"I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to do this," Harry began, his voice filled with emotion. "The right moment. And I realize now that this is the rightest time I could find."

He looked up at you, his eyes shining with love and sincerity. "So, do you want to marry me again?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

Tears of joy filled your eyes as you looked at Harry, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. "Yes, Harry, yes!" you exclaimed, your voice choked with emotion. "I want to marry you again."

With a relieved smile, Harry slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly as he made a silent vow to cherish you for the rest of his life.

"I promise, love," Harry whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I'll do things the right way this time. I swear on my life."

And in that moment, as you looked into Harry's eyes, you knew that despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart. With Harry by your side, you were ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that your love would carry you through any storm.

As you stood in the park, the warm breeze gently rustling the leaves of the old oak tree, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. This tree held so many memories for you and Harry, memories of the promises you made to each other all those years ago, when you were just young and in love.

With a soft smile, you reached out and traced the initials carved into the rough bark of the tree, feeling the familiar grooves beneath your fingertips. "H + Y," you whispered, your voice filled with affection as you remembered the day you and Harry had carved your names into the tree, sealing your love and commitment to each other for eternity.

As you gazed at the initials, lost in the memories they evoked, you felt a small hand slip into yours, tugging gently at your fingers. Looking down, you saw your son Hadrian standing beside you, a determined expression on his face as he stared up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

"Mommy, help me write my name," Hadrian pleaded, his voice filled with excitement. "I want it to be next to yours and Daddy's."

Your heart swelled with love as you looked at your son, his resemblance to Harry strikingly evident in his bright eyes and unruly mop of brown hair. He was the light of your life, a constant source of joy and laughter that filled your days with happiness.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, bending down to his level and ruffling his hair affectionately. "Let's go write your name together."

Hadrian nodded eagerly, his small fingers grasping the stick tightly as he carefully began to trace the letters of his name onto the bark of the tree. You watched with pride as he concentrated intently, his tongue poking out slightly from the corner of his mouth in concentration.

"Good job, buddy," you praised him, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. "You're doing great."

Hadrian beamed up at you, his eyes shining with pride as he finished writing his name. "Look, Mommy!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the crooked letters carved into the tree. "I did it!"

You laughed at his excitement, feeling a swell of love and gratitude in your heart as you looked at your son. "Yes, you did, sweetheart," you replied, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As you held Hadrian in your arms, surrounded by the beauty of the park and the warmth of the afternoon sun, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. Despite the obstacles and challenges you had faced along the way, here you were, together as a family, happy and fulfilled.

Looking over at Harry, who was standing a few feet away, watching the scene with a proud smile on his face, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. He had been your rock, your partner in every sense of the word, and together, you had weathered every storm that life had thrown your way.

"Come on, Mommy," Hadrian said, tugging at your hand impatiently. "Daddy's waiting for us."

You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing him to lead you back to where Harry was standing. As you approached, Harry knelt down to scoop Hadrian up into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek.

"Did you write your name, buddy?" Harry asked, his voice filled with pride as he looked at Hadrian.

Hadrian nodded enthusiastically, his face beaming with excitement. "I did, Daddy!" he exclaimed, wriggling in Harry's arms to show off his handiwork.

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he looked at the crooked letters carved into the tree. "That's amazing, Hadrian," he said, pressing another kiss to his son's cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

You smiled at the sight of the two of them, a wave of love washing over you as you watched them together. This was what happiness looked like, you realized, not the absence of challenges, but the presence of love and family to face them together.

As Harry turned to you, his eyes filled with love and gratitude, you knew that the promise you and he had made all those years ago had been fulfilled. You were happy, truly happy, and nothing could ever change that.

With a smile, you reached out to take Harry's hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he squeezed your fingers tightly. Together, you stood there in the park, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the love of your family, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way.

#alan rickman #harry #love actually #harry x reader #alan rickman x reader #oc

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gojolatte · 2 months

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now we are one, let me love you ↳ g. satoru x g. suguru, g. satoru x reader ♡ angst, fluff ↳ tw: death, mention of a afterlife ♡ self-indulgent (I'm still trying to cope)

just thinking about the moment Satoru releases his final breath as his soul lets go. he can finally be at peace because he knows he's about to see you and suguru soon. he can't say that he hasn't braced himself for this moment because he has. it makes him wonder what his afterlife will be like.

will you be waiting? will it be suguru? maybe both?

regardless, he's going to make up for lost time. hold you like he's afraid he's going to lose you again. kiss you like he's missed you because he has. so fucking much. the last thought on his mind causing a smile to gradually grow as a single tear falls from his eyes.

he's going to be able to be happy again.

no sorcery, no saving others, no more loneliness. no more sleepless nights, no more nightmares.

you have more time to be able to be together.

he's always regretted the way things ended with you and how he wasn't able to save suguru from spiraling into madness. hated how he wasn't able to protect you from your untimely demise after your breakup. how his last words to suguru weren't what he truly wanted them to be.

how he wasn't able to protect the both of you from yourselves.

after losing both of you he vowed to never love again because he knew he would never feel the same way he felt for the two of you, for anyone else.

"welcome home, Satoru.”

satoru blinks, his heart doing leaps and bounds as he stands in front of the two people he fell in love with at different points in his life. his bottom lip wobbles the second he takes in your warm smile that makes your eyes crease, arms wide open for him to run into. he had hoped he would be able to see the both of you but he didn't expect the both of you to be waiting for him together. he was sure he would have to search for at least one of you but he's glad. it makes him happier to know that, even in death, you both are willing to stick by his side.

willing to be with him.

willing to still love him.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, satoru." Your voice is gentle but firm, knowing (and hating) that he blamed himself for your death. Honestly, You had no business going on missions when your head and heart weren't in the right place. Losing your best friend, Kento, during the Shibuya incident had you spiraling but also, feeling like you were losing your grip on your life and relationship was the nail in the coffin. Your breakup took a harder toll on you mentally and everyone could see it. Yaga tried to stop you but you were too hard-headed to listen to reason. Even the higher-ups knew all of this and they still sent you to your death. If anyone was to blame, it would be them.

satoru remembers seeing your lifeless body on the table like countless others, only breaking away when shoko finally covered your corpse. feeling the curse of loving someone all over again. he went through with suguru and now you were an added casualty. you weren't supposed to be there and Satoru felt if you hadn't agreed to end things, you would have still been alive.

"You can't blame yourself for our mistakes. I chose my path, satoru." suguru says, placing a soft kiss on top of his forehead with a softer smile before pulling away. "I can't change what I've done but I've accepted it."

his mind reels remembering how he was forced to end suguru's reign of terror.

"I forgive you. You were doing what was right." the tears streamed down satoru's face as he listened to the both of you. his heart breaking for the third time as he releases a sob, feeling the way you're reaching up to rub the back of his undercut. he relaxes as much as he can but you know it's going to take some time for him to truly be okay.

"I've missed you both so much."

"Well, now we have all the time in the world," You chuckle, letting satoru step away to try to get his bearings.

"an eternity to make things right."

you both hold out your hands as he takes one of yours and one of suguru's. the tranquility washes over him in waves because he can't believe this is his afterlife, this is his serendipity. surrounded by snowfall and sweet flowers blooming around you as you lead him to his safe space.

his haven.

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abimess · 2 years

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Consequences

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Some mistakes have irredeemable consequences. Wanda will learn about it the hard way. [Requested]

Word count: 1.250 || Pronouns: not used

Warnings: cheating, angst

A/N: So... I listened to Midnights... That's all I'm going to say. Enjoy the pain!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Halloween Special | Masterlist | Be notified of my stories

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It’s funny how some habits grow out to have completely different meanings than they had before. It’s bittersweet.

One of Wanda’s favorite activities of all time was spending time with you, just the two of you in silence. Hearing your heartbeat as she laid on your chest; hearing the rustle of the leaves outside as the both of you read a book - by yourselves, but still together.

The two of you appreciated the silence, that was one of the many things you found out you had in common in the early stages of your relationship. The lack of words that said way more than enough.

But now it was all different. Your silence doesn't have the same meaning it once did. In fact, Wanda finds herself thinking quite often, it doesn’t have any meaning at all. And the worst part was that there was no one to blame but herself.

It’s a windy day today. And neither you nor Wanda were able to postpone the promise you’d made to Billy and Tommy of taking them to the city park so they could play on the fallen leaves.

So here you are, sitting on a park bench, watching as your sons play with some other kids from the neighborhood, laughing and running around as you and the redhead stay there, in silence. An excruciating silence.

A few minutes before, a kind woman offered to take a picture of the four of you, after she saw you were taking pictures of the twins making angels on the sea of leaves on the floor. Wanda’s heart stopped when you agreed, thanking the stranger with the kind smile you last offered your wife a long time ago.

The four of you got together in front of a big tree, your hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder as Wanda did the same with Billy. Following her instincts, she slipped her free arm around your middle. It took her just a second to realize what she’s done, and she was about to pull away if you hadn’t slipped your own over her shoulders.

Wanda wanted to cry right there, the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe. But she took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to push her tears away as she forced a smile at your phone that the unknown woman held in front of her face, hiding half of the smile she was giving at the cute family on the screen. Looks really can be deceiving.

When the stranger announced the picture was taken, you pulled away faster than you’d ever done before, rubbing your nose in the way you always did when you were uncomfortable. You thanked the woman before taking your phone back, checking the picture just enough not to be rude at her kind offer. Wanda ruffled the boys' hair before thanking her as well, and as soon as the woman was gone, the perfect family facade fell apart, the two of you back on the bench, in silence.

There, the redhead thinks about making some conversation - meaningless topics she’s become accustomed to choosing to fill the void whenever it was only the two of you. It hurts, it always does. But, still, it hurt less than talking about nothing at all.

However, the moment she looks at you, she loses her nerve. Even if you weren’t looking at her, she could see the pain behind your eyes. The eyes she loves so deeply; that she could never wish to be gone from her life.

And, in moments like that one, Wanda hated how well she knew you; how she was able to read you like the back of her hand.

Because, right now, she knows exactly what’s going through your mind. That night, a few weeks ago, when you found out about her affair with one of her coworkers in the worst possible way.

She didn’t mean it, nothing of it. She was dissatisfied with her job and with not being able to achieve her professional dreams. None of that was an excuse, of course, and she hadn't been able to convince you of it in the long fight you had about her cheating. You and she knew about the redhead's self-destructive behavior of sabotaging herself whenever a small detail of her life went wrong. But that was too much to forgive.

At first, Wanda thought there was nothing worse than making you cry like that - loud sobs of pain and anger, mingled in accusations and hurtful words. But she was proved wrong the moment your tears subsided, your jaw clenched tightly. The moment you said it was over, but that you wouldn't file for divorce yet because the boys were too young and they didn't deserve it. It broke her, but there was nothing she could do about it since she broke you first.

So here you are. An unhappy marriage with two six-year-olds to take care of and for whom you have to pretend that everything was fine.

Later that night - long after the four of you went back home and not many minutes after you put the boys to sleep -, Wanda was taking the dinner dishes out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their respective drawers and cabinets. Her heart tightened a little when she heard your footsteps approaching.

“Wanda?” Your voice took her by surprise, her eyes wide as she turned to look at you. “Yes?” The redhead’s voice was a mere whisper, looking at you intently as your gaze rested on the floor for a moment in which you gathered the strength to look at her before you did so.

“There’s going to be a parent-teacher conference on Tuesday morning at the boys’ school. But I’ll be working, can you go?” Your voice is almost robotic, devoid of feelings, wanting to end that conversation as quickly as possible, and Wanda's shoulders drop slightly, nodding slowly. “Sure.” A humorless chuckle escaped her lips before she found herself saying, “for a moment I thought you wanted to talk about us.”

Your response is a loud gulp that the redhead can see in your throat the moment before you avert your gaze from hers. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, Wanda spins on her heels, hiding her tears as she busies herself tidying the glasses more than it would be necessary.

A loud gasp of surprise makes its way past her lips a few moments later, when she feels your hand resting on her shoulder. The redhead dares not move, certain that the slightest movement would make you pull away. But out of the corner of her eye, Wanda can see that your arm is outstretched, putting as much distance between the two of you as you can as you touch her. She doesn't know how to feel about the whole thing.

“Goodnight.” You say it the next moment, a whisper so low that it is almost drowned out by the low rumble of the refrigerator's motor. The redhead, too astonished to be able to say anything, remains silent, and you take your hand off her shoulder, and make your way with quick steps out of the kitchen, towards the guest room that was slowly becoming your bedroom.

Even though the touch lasted only a few seconds, Wanda could still feel it burning her skin under her pajama top. And, laying her face on her own shoulder, your wife finally allows the tears to fall, wishing there was a less painful punishment for all of her mistakes.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen fanfiction

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gingerylangylang1979 · 9 months

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Black women who ship Carmy x Sydney, please take care of yourselves

This is written from a place of love, not condescension or trying to spank or belittle anybody.

I guess I’m just growing concerned about many black women in this fandom feeling bad about this ship in a number of ways and some trends I see that aren’t healthy and uplifting. What I say may make some people angry. Some people may feel I’m dismissing legit concerns or lived experiences. I’m sure I’ll get blocked by some. Oh well. I'm gonna speak my truth. All I’m trying to do is give much needed perspective and say the quiet parts out loud.

When I see black women repeatedly literally letting this shit make them upset and enraged at every turn, daily, it’s a bit alarming to me. If one's happiness is so swayed by the whims of perception of a ship it’s a bit unsettling. Why let this shit have so much power over your mood and enjoyment? It’s just a show. But I think for many it’s way deeper than that and that’s not being kind to oneself or fair to the creators and performers.

I’ll say this, I know there is misogynoir, and both conscious and unconscious bias involved in a lot of the reactions we are seeing about this ship. I’ve spoken to it. But I think a lot of us are failing to see the nuance of the whole picture and are making everything literally black & white and a cause for outrage and panic. Where I see misogynoir is most at play is in how fans view Ayo/Syd and as an extension Carmy x Sydney. Where I don’t see it particularly in play is how the cast and crew speak about the ship.

Every time an article comes out denying the ship the knee jerk reaction is hating on Storer and Calo like they don’t want the ship to happen because Syd is black. I just don’t see any evidence of that or need to assume bad intentions. If you trust what you are seeing and think it’s endgame that contradicts Storer and Calo not wanting the ship for racist reasons.

I know what has happened with other BW/WM ships but I just don’t see that here. The romantic undercurrents are just too heavy and they greatly respect Syd as a stand alone character and Ayo as an actress and creator in her own right. Are they going to get everything you want right? No. But they are trying. Does that mean we will get everything we want with her/them? Not necessarily. The same can be said for any of these characters. Just trust what you're seeing, the intentionality is there even if it isn’t validated in media about the show.

But because she is a black woman we are more invested and more focused on her treatment. That’s fine, let’s uplift her, and protect her. But what I see is a somewhat unhealthy attachment to viewing her as somehow being wronged at every turn. I get it. But I also think it’s not beneficial to be almost looking for her to be wronged in places where it isn’t true. If the ship isn’t being validated in the media and Carmy isn’t kissing her and declaring his love next season it's not sidelining, it’s storytelling, and it’s a slow burn. Some of the same people talking about they want a slow burn I guarantee will be up n arms if Carmy x Sydney are further apart next season, which I think will happen. That's what happens in these romances. But the first thing people will jump to is the writers don't want them together because she is black and the first article denying the ship will have people ready to ride at dawn.

I think it’s just difficult for some to come to terms with how this is going to play our over time and what that really means because she is a black woman character and we want the most for her. They will have ups and downs. Yes, Carmy dated someone else. There is pressure to validate her in so many ways that just aren’t necessarily going to be satisfied on all levels and I think some are making it way personal to a degree that isn’t necessarily warranted.

Whatever happens with Syd isn’t going to correct the history of the black woman's experience in the media or real life. It will be a monumental event if they go canon, for sure, but I think some people are getting way too emotional and angry if every little thing doesn’t go how they want with her and Carmy. I also see a bit of trying to make other elements validate Syd as a black woman and by extension validate oneself.

The insistence from some that Ayo and Jeremy have something going on or Jeremy’s performance is rooted in feelings for Ayo is so strange to me. Why? I think some people need to feel like Jeremy has feelings for her because he’s the hot white lead to validate her as a black woman. As excellent as Jeremy is as an actor do people really think he has to actually be in love with Ayo to get the performance we are seeing? He’s just extremely good at his job. I don’t think he has to do that with any other emotions he is portraying so why this need to have him be in love to make the performance resonate?

I’ve also seen people trying to make a connection with the fact that he’s been seen with a biracial black woman as somehow meaning the next step is he should be with a monoracial black woman and connecting that with him and Sydney. Why? I saw a post that was questioning why this woman isn’t dark skinned with kinky hair as if he’s obligated to date someone that looks “black enough” to validate the attractiveness of dark skinned black women. This post also seemed to be super invested in that because that’s what they look like and want to feel Jeremy should be attracted to them. It’s not the first time I’ve seen this and it always makes me cringe and feel deeply sorry for that person.

I think it’s cool he’s dating a WOC but I have no entitlement or expectation that he go darker and nappier to prove anything to me or the public. And it has no bearing on if he would find someone who looks like me attractive in a sexual way or the same for his character. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. What does it matter? If he is told to kiss Ayo onscreen, he will, because he’s a professional. Why are people making it so personal who he chooses in his real life? It just seems extremely insecure and projecting. If he dates someone else who is white white or another race that’s not black, is that going to hurt feelings? He doesn’t like “belong” to black women now. Jokes about it are funny but internalizing it as validation is dangerous.

I also see this in an intense desire to have another white character be in the love triangle. If you just want someone else in the picture, fine. But I feel like there is this big desire to have it be another white man when Marcus has been there the whole time. I don’t ship her with Marcus (well, I did for a minute when I was enraged with Carmy) but it’s because I don’t think it’s where her heart is. But I also don’t see Marcus as a non-viable option. But since he’s not the white boy of the month, it’s not as appealing or viewed as big of a win for some if she’s with him or he’s the only suitor. People have mentioned Connor as a potential. Ok, yeah, I can see it based on the evidence presented, but I hope it isn’t viewed as a like let’s boot Marcus so this white boy who sorta superficially looks like Carmy is the rival. Maybe it can be a love square and three men fight for Syd, but I don’t want to discredit Marcus just because another curly haired white boy with blue eyes shows up.

And lastly, if your emotional well being is so super effected about what happens to Sydney and it’s so entangled with feelings of being marginalized to the point that it’s distressing and your hyperfocused on every detail as a win or lose, I think you need to consider why and understand her being with Carmy isn’t going to heal anything. A lot of fans project personal issues onto characters and it’s just never going to fill an emotional hole or be a substitute for racial justice.

I saw someone post recently that this ship is a coping mechanism. And honestly it shouldn’t be. Just like Claire can’t fix Carmy, shipping Carmy x Sydney and hoping they are canon isn’t going to fix anything. If this is a fun outlet for you and a way to spend free time, great. But I wouldn’t link being in the fandom and shipping with self care. It’s too volatile to be tethering your emotional well being to. That’s like putting your healing in the hands of writers, media, and fandom when you should be in control of your journey. I think it’s cool to relate to the characters and be invested in their story but it can get kind of messy and parasocial if you put too much personal weight on outcomes regarding the show.

So, I just want us to be more positive and focus on the wins with this character and Ayo. And also focus on the future. That doesn’t mean ignore the shenanigans. But I think so much attention is focused on the negative that not enough credit is being given to the bravery of having a dark skinned black woman as the co-lead, having her be her own person with her own struggles and nuances, having her most likely also be an unconventional romantic lead, having Ayo be the breakout star she is, having her get EP credits and directing next season, how she is a cover star, how she is multi-talented, how she is praised by everyone who works with her, how she is the IT girl. And I think this story will do her justice in the end.

#carmy x sydney #syd x carmen #chefs kiss #misogynoir #black women in media #black women in tv #shipping discourse #fandom discourse

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lesbianslvt666 · 8 months

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scarlett sun

Demigod!Ellie x Human!reader

The song of Achilles x the first disciple inspired au!

Angst?

cw: major character death, Mentions of gore and war

Ellie never thought about you the way she thought about her path. Obscure thoughts of greatness came like crashing waves on the tormented ocean.

She knew she ought to become more than her mare physical form, she wasn’t like no other human, she was better than them, still, she thought of you as the brightest light in her life.

A light that sent to sleep years of growing pain, years of loneliness. You were the only one for her, greater than the sea, brighter than the sun.

Her only love.

Ever.

But she couldn’t just let it go, the screams of the people, cheering for her after winning the battle, after ending the lives of those who never stood a chance on her presence.

Your heart aching with the same passion her own carried, her fiery veins carried blue blood that came with incredible strength, the fastest state of being, efficient enough for battle.

You loaded the aftermath of those nights. Painful aches all over her, for she had still a human like body, her virtues hurt her bones, teared her flesh and stretched to brake her muscles, there was no way around, everything need a valance and for her, that was pain.

She killed with awareness her mind chased down, crimson mirrors of blood, pools she entered knowing damn well what she was there for.

And damn her for she didn’t wanted to hurt.

Nor them

Nor her.

But mostly not you.

Never the less, the thirst for applause was greater than the torture it meant. Praises of her name rushed to her head, drugging all capabilities of stopping, not turning back.

And so you conform to the agony of seeing her like that, she won't stop.

she can't.

too stubborn to think of herself like the saviour of this people, and even if the tales told her story as the glory of a girl who fought till they win, the end didn’t end with her being praised, the prophecy talked about her clock worked death, chaos and blood would fall heavy and hot upon the ones who spilled crimson tears to each other.

And sorrow would follow her tortured lover.

Her glory would follow after her agonising decay, no human would ever be able to feel that much hurt in such long time, and to purify her for her sins, to sit on the throne above humans, she would endure it.

Her only regret.

She has to lose you, her only, her everything, she was going to give you up.

And you knew.

And she was aware that you did.

But why was you still here with her, mending her wounds, taking her seemingly fragile body in your worked hands, curing her the way only you could.

She hated how much you loved her, how passionately, an intensity that mirrored her own.

But how come a human can feel this deep? This desperately? This immensely?

The intensity of you roaring heart burnt her every time she thought of the end, your blazing love powered by a blinding admiration and understanding, you both lost everyone but yourselves, however, Ellie still found the joy in the blaring people.

And if it wasn't for the fact that you are always there, she would've already choose them.

She would've chosen the earthly glory.

Thankfully you never left, to her dismay, she was horrified for what she would make you go through, but when you hold her like she was all it ever existed, the answer to all unknown, the reality written in the stars she felt real.

She felt human

And when you kiss her like she means more than her future, like she is completely and only ever your lover, her hands can't keep to herself.

She is always eager to return the effort you give her, wondering hands and igniting chests, booming against each other for any ounce of friction.

And in the love filled nights she would only ever think of you, you on her mind, creating only thoughts of you.

It was her favourite moments.

But happiness don’t last forever, and as the sun emerged with her orange colours that tinted all around, so did the ground beneath, red hues crowned the white sand underneath.

When your eyes opened wide in fear for the screams that encountered the heavy scarlet droplets of an unexpected battle.

Ellie was already out.

And so you adorned your body in fabric, no time to protect you with an outside shell.

You ran outside, for something told you this was the end.

And maybe if you could chase her down, scape down the rivers and head to the north.

Hell you might as well scape earth, you would try.

But she won't follow, you thought that the physical scape could free her from a spiritual realm.

And you almost had her, you really did, wide eyes of surprise lightened you with bright desire from the deepest parts of yourself to her.

Like extending her fire to you.

But that fire was choked down, like a wild animal strangled by a boa, your lungs gave in the pain.

A striking force from behind your back revealed a blade as long as an arm.

The sword cut your flesh so easily like a dagger on paper.

And even if she had unhuman abilities, her running to you wasn’t fast enough.

Your life was draining out of you, like a fast poison purring in your veins, it ached your body in ways you had never felt.

But it wasn’t the blade that was tormenting your chest, it was her eyes, her agitated state to get as fast to you as she could.

But she never did.

She almost felt the warm of your skin leaving behind a grey ghost of your body.

But she couldn’t even touch you for the last time.

They took her first, and left you behind by the sea shore.

Salty water claiming your body.

Salty tears exasperating the wrath Ellie had become.

And when she felt you gone.

When the sea took you in peace…

Like you were theirs.

And not hers…

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happypanda101 · 3 months

Text

The Sakura/Hinata Hypocrisy

So, this post was inspired by a brief conversation on discord. And before anyone tries to pull the anti card, no. Just because I love Sakura does not mean I hate Hinata. I like Hinata. I think she’s a sweet character who had a lot of potential. And I really with the SakuHina friendship was explored more, their very cute.

But anyway, onto the post!

So, I have honestly thought about making a post about this for a long time, but was nervous to. Cause well… look at the Sakura/Hinata stans. Those guys will go for the throat for their girls.

But can you all just acknowledge the hypocrisy in this fandom?

Sakura tries, she fails: “what a useless bitch!”

Hinata tries, she fails: “She did her best! What a queen!”

Are you guys hearing yourselves? Do you not hear the utter hypocrisy of what you just said?

And it can be the other way around, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I’ve mostly seen it go down this way.

SP’s favouritism for Hinata really didn’t help either. I know a lot of Hinata fans call her fight with Pain her best moment, but canonly, this happened.

Her fight was all but one page.

Just about one page less then when Sakura jumped in front of Sasuke to protect him from Gaara.

(Can’t find the other part sorry)

But despite the fact that these two situations were basically similar, Sakura is hated on while Hinata is endlessly praised.

Can we all just accept the fact that these girls were done dirty by the story?

Sakura’s development wasn’t as drastic as Naruto and Sasuke’s, but it was there. But that all gets thrown away for her love interest.

Hinata’s development and arc in part 1 was very interesting and I was excited to see her grow. But again. That all got thrown away for her love interest.

Because apparently women can’t have any goals outside of men, and if they dare move on from a gut they liked, that makes them a “bad person.”

And whenever they do get big moments, it’s quickly thrown away, for what? The men. And you know what part gets me the most? If Sakura and Hinata were written as men, they’d be better developed, better written, and everyone would love them.

I love Naruto, but I unfortunately can’t read the story with rose tinted glasses like I did when I was younger. The women in this series deserved way better than what they got.

Anyone, Sakura and Hinata’s friendship is adorable. I wish people would stop putting them against each other. Look how cute they are!

Anyway, thats it. Thanks for putting up with another Ted talk of mine.

#naruto fandom #naruto shippuden #naruto manga #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #hinata hyuuga #hyuuga hinata #sakura haruno deserved better #hinata hyuuga deserved better #pro sakura haruno #pro hinata hyuga #anti studio pierrot

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indigo-starcatcher · 1 year

Text

CROWN APPLE

Dom!Jake x Reader

Oooohoho, my first smut. So exciting, and a little nerve-racking so please give me your feedback! Enjoy yourselves some filthy Jake, hoes. 😌

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Dom!Jake, alcohol, weed (if you squint, I guess), slapping, spanking, unprotected penetration (wrap it to tap it, ladies [GN]), cursing. If I missed one, my bad y'all!

Summary: You hit up a Kiszka party to visit with long-time friend, Sammy. Jake unabashedly hates your guts. Or does he?

The familiar burn crept up your throat as you threw your head back, shot glass to your lips. Crown Apple, your whisky of choice.

You had always been a close friend of the Kiszkas, growing up in Frankenmuth and being in the same year as Sammy. You two were good friends all throughout school - you had even exchanged elementary Valentine's. Backyard bbqs, swimming playdates, backyard baseball - you had a million memories in the Kiszka home, and cherished all of them.

That was years ago. Nowadays the boys were really successful with the band, and seldom found themselves at home; they were either touring, or stuck in the studio. Whenever they came home though, they made sure to invite you to every gathering, every party. You were still Sammy's best friend. They all adored you, welcoming you with open arms.

Everyone that is except Jake. You didn't know the reason; he'd never given you one. You just chalked it up to the philosophy that not everyone gets along with everyone, and shrugged it off. Even so, you brushed paths with him on the way into the party, and he never turned down the opportunity to verbally jab at you.

He paused you in the doorway, a snide smirk curling his lips. "You again, Y/N? Don't you have your own place?"

His voice was raspy, and he stood close enough for you to smell the woodsy cologne he'd bathed himself in. It was a bit flustering, though you didn't want to it admit it. You weren't Jake's biggest fan, either.

He continued, a cockier smile turning up the corners of his mouth. You could've sworn you caught him quickly eyeing you up and down. "Or do you not have anything better to do than trail behind my brother?"

As you set your shot glass down on the Kiszkas downstairs bar, Sammy drunkenly staggered over to you. Slinging his arm over your shoulder, he dotted a quick and earnest kiss on the side of your head.

"Heyyyyy, kiddo!!!". His breath smelt of beer, evident by the one he was tipping in his hand, the hoppy smelling drink splashing and flicking little droplets from the top of the bottle.

"I am soooo glad you made it tonight!!! I - hiccup - I miss game nights with you while we're off touring!! HEY let's go race in the yard right now, huh?? whaddya say I think that sounds fun ooh Joshcantimeus..."

His words started to slur together, and they trailed off in your mind as well. You were distracted - you could feel hot eyes burning into you from across the room. Jake leaned against the wall next to the sliding door that led to the patio, a glass of whisky neat swirling in his hand. As your eyes met, he raised a questioning and sarcastic brow, as if to say "can I help you?".

You responded with a small eye roll and returned to Sammy's drunken ramblings.

"Hey, love!" You chirped back enthusiastically. "I definitely wanna race, but I think you need some bread and a lil nap first, okay??" Sammy looked down to you with a toothy smile, eyes blinking one at a time.

"YKNOW. I could -hiccup- I could go for a slice!!"

Eagerly grabbing a slice of pizza from the bar countertop, he sauntered lazily away from you to the couch. He only made it through one bite before falling asleep, the rest of the slice spending the night on his black, low-cut t-shirt.

You giggled to yourself, and grabbed a slice as well. That's when you noticed Chris, one of the band's roadies, had joined you at the bar.

Beer in hand and a tipsy smile on his face, he began to flirt very openly. He asked about your hobbies, how long you'd been friends with Sammy, the works. You found yourself giggling and genuinely enjoying the conversation, flirting as you felt yourself getting tipsier by the minute, nursing your own glass of neat whiskey.

That's when you felt that same familiar feeling: a stare laced with venom. This time from out on the patio, you locked eyes with Jake. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were filled with fire. You furrowed your brow as you watched him throw back a full glass of alcohol in one impressive gulp. "What is his problem?" you thought to yourself. That's when you noticed, the seal was beginning to break.

"Chris! Will you excuse me for just a sec? I'll be right back", you called down to your potential suitor over your shoulder, finishing your sentence as you made your way upstairs to the Kiszkas bathroom.

Washing your hands, you heard footsteps stamping their way up the wooden basement stairs, but thought nothing of it. You left the bathroom and closed the door behind you, only when you spun around, there he was. About a foot from your face, Jake stood. The surprise of his presence backed you against the closed door.

He raised up an arm to prop himself up next to you, leaning confidently against the door frame.

"Y'know," he started, a deeper rasp in his voice than normal. He was close enough that you could smell the whiskey and weed that lingered on his breath. It was intoxicating. You hated yourself for thinking that, but you couldn't help it. His entire aura was hypnotizing. "I really hate you."

"Yeah, off to a good start, Jake", you retorted as you tried to work your way around him. He quickly held up his other arm. They were bordering you on the door frame now, blocking you in.

"But what I hate more, for some God damn reason..." he whispered, only inches from your face now,

"...is seeing any other man try to do what I could do so easily."

"Oh? And what's that, Jakey? Make a complete ass out of yourself?" You threw the words back at him with half-hearted malice, laying the sarcasm on thick.

Jake was a beautiful man. His hair cascading down his shoulders; his low cut shirt that displayed his doubloons like gold stars, bouncing against his bare stomach with every movement. He made you nervous, it was true, but your disdain for him was more powerful.

"No," he said back in a gentle, hushed whisper.

Pausing his words, his pointer finger found its way to your clavical. It trailed ever so lightly up your neck, to your jaw, to your chin, where the soft touch subsided. He squeezed your jaw in his hand, tilting your chin up to meet his cocky gaze. Spitting back through gritted teeth, he snarled as he spoke:

"Make you cum, sweetheart."

In an instant he turned you around, pinning you to the door. With one hand, he held yours behind you, pressed them against the small of your back. His other hand trailed softly but confidently from your calf, up in between your thighs slowly, searching for your core. You could feel the wet heat soaking through your panties as he steadily moved upwards.

"Jake. Don't. Someone will see, someone's bound to come upstairs." You only half-worriedly replied. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this before.

"Fuck 'em."

Shoving your panties over to the inside of your thigh, he slid in two fingers to the knuckle and curled them, motioning for you to come here in the filthiest of ways. A soft moan started to escape your lips, but not before Jake could stamp his free hand to your opened mouth.

"I love a nasty sound from a nasty whore, but shut the fuck up unless you want the entire party up here."

To Jake's surprise, you quickly turned around to face him, a soft but firm hand landing on his throat, gently squeezing at the sides.

"Then do something about it, Jakey".

A wicked and filthy grin curled his lips over his beautiful white teeth, his deep brown eyes blown out with lust. You'd flipped a switch in him; you weren't sure what you'd gotten yourself into, but you knew you were along for the ride.

"Oh, sweetheart." He whispered arrogantly, softly removing your hand from his throat. Taking your cheeks in his hand, he squeezed hard enough for the pads of his fingers to draw a small ache from your cheekbones. He leaned in, an inch from your face. His hot, whiskey-soaked breath could've gotten you drunk.

"You shouldn't have said that".

With a swift movement, he bent slightly to wrap his arms around your legs, tossing you over his shoulder with ease.

"Now you're stuck with me, you sweet little slut." As a punctuation to his threat, he brought down an open-handed palm to meet your right ass cheek. A surprised yet excited moan escaped your lips.

"Calm down, Y/N." Jake commanded, striding hastily down the hall to his bedroom. "The fun hasn't even started yet". You could hear the smile in his statement.

He threw open his bedroom door, closing it behind him with a kick of his Chelsea boot. He brought down his hand to your ass one more time before throwing you down onto the bed, landing with force.

He crawled over top of you, gold chains dangling and tracing little circles on your heaving chest. You were already soaked through, the throbbing heat crawling up into your pelvis.

"Y'know, I've thought about this before..."

His thumb brushed over your lower lip. "Filling this pretty mouth with my cock just to get you to shut the fuck up". He brought his hand up from your lips to lay a soft but firm smack to your cheek.

Your mouth opened in a small "o", riding the line between pain and pleasure.

"Good girl, you knew just what I wanted," Jake praised as he slid two fingers into your mouth, letting them linger on your tongue. Satisfied, he began to remove them, but you pulled them back into your mouth with a hard suck, making deliberate eye contact. You weren't afraid. You wanted more.

"You're filthy", Jake muttered, almost admiring you. His hate for you hadn't subsided, but he was impressed. He liked a challenge. You released his fingers and he brought them to his lips, sucking on them, not allowing his eyes to shift from yours.

"Crown Apple?" He smirked. "One of my favorites."

In a hasty movement, he flipped you over onto your stomach and lifted you up by your hips. His pelvis inched forward to meet yours, pressing into you. Even fully clothed, you could feel his hard length through his jeans.

"Jake, please.." you begged. You needed him. You'd come to terms with it. You hated him but you absolutely, desperately needed him.

"Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart."

"Please...Jake I need you," you whined.

"As hard as it makes me when you whimper, I need you to tell me what it is that you need." Jake was amusing himself; he enjoyed when you squirmed.

"Please. Jake. Fuck me. Do whatever you want with me."

"I thought you'd never ask."

He reached forward to shimmy your panties down around your legs; you had thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, allowing him easy access. As he freed you of your lace garments, he brought them up to his face, allowing himself a small inhale. His eyes rolled back into his head, and let out a small sigh.

"Those stay with me, sweetheart." He said, stuffing your panties into his jeans pocket. He could feel himself twitching under his denim; he couldn't wait any longer. The very sight of you, dripping in front of him, had tricked a trigger.

He unbuttoned his jeans without hesitation. Shimmying them down to his knees with his boxers, his length sprung free, resting against his abdomen. With one hand he wrapped around his base, slowly and deliberately stroking. His other hand reached forward to cup you in his hands, desperate to feel you drip down onto him. A raspy moan escaped his lips and his head fell backwards.

"My sweet, nasty little slut. How badly do you need me?"

"I need you Jake." You begged. You could feel yourself throbbing. "I. Need. You. Fuck me."

With your command, you felt him slide in to bottom out. He was warm, and wide. He stretched your walls and hit you in places that hadn't been touched, sending little electric currents down your widened legs.

"Oh, fuck," He whispered behind you through gritted teeth. "My little slut, you're so tight." When did he start using the word, "my"?

His slams into you hastened, his moans growing louder with every movement. His length slid almost all the way out of you, only to re-enter with more force. You could feel the familiar knot growing and tangling in your hips, along with an unfamiliar - yet intoxicating - tightening that tensed with every thrust.

"Jake, I..I think I'm going to.."

A pornographic string of moans grew and ripped from your mouth. Jake leaned forward to stifle them, suctioning his palm to your open mouth. You came hard, along with a waterfall release that you'd never experienced before. It flowed from you, soaking Jake's cock and dripping down onto his sheets.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, that was so fucking hot. Oh, fuck. I'm, I'm.."

Jake couldn't finish his sentence before you felt him twitch, his warmth filling you to the brim. Sent spiraling by the mixture of each others releases, another knot rose up from within you. You finished together, trailing off in a string of signs and moans.

The two of you collapsed down into the bed together, where he remained on top of you and inside of you. He propped himself up on his forearms, wiping away a sweat-soaked and disheveled strand of hair from your forehead. He leaned down, his lips meeting your ear.

"You should come over more often, sweetheart."

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