#sorry if this is too gross and upsetting i just. feel like i need to reach out. to anyone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

casualhedonists · 3 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month.

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.” You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you.

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #snow x reader #snow x you #attention #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #x reader #x you smut

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suddenlyspectral · 2 years

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why are men being so fucking weird to me when i go out. WHY.

#i’m sorry i’m really sorry i’m just still tipsy from my night out and just #i hate the way men interact with me. i feel dirty and gross afterwards. they feel like they can have license to touch me and talk to me #for just existing and having to have a good time with other people. when i don’t fucking want them to #but i’m too accomadating when drunk to say no #i just. i know this is how things go. and nothing Bad has happened #but i just want to have fun. i don’t want to feel sick and awful and sad and angry and gross after #i want them to stop touching me. even on the back or on the arms. please. if i haven’t asked you to pleas #i feel stupid for being upset about this. i know this is what Happens if you are/look like a woman and go to a bar or a club #but please let it stop please. i just want to have fun. and now i’m upset at home and i don’t want to leave my room #a 26 year old!!!! a guy who looked even older!!!! i’m fucking 19!!!!!!!!! leave me ALONE #the 26 year old asked my age and kept going. how can you STOMACH that. leave me ALONE. ALONE #i need to be more assertive i don’t know. but i just. i feel so bad #sorry if anyone read this far i’m tipsy and be venting and tired #i promise this isn’t any weird terf shit. i’.m just sad grossed out awful pissed

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nevernonline · 4 months

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✧.* must love dogs; csc one shot.

✧.* synopsis: after a breakup (three years ago) your friend finally attempts to get you back on the saddle by creating you a dating profile despite your protesting, hooking you up on dates with some of the eligible bachelors of their choice, none of which impressed you. until one day you met the boy with the dog.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seungcheol x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lovers

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes.

word count: 3.7k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. I hope you enjoy my lil must love dogs inspired fic, its one of my fav movies!! xo.

“So how was bachelor number five?”

With a roll of your eyes, you gazed at your friend Seungkwan resting his feet on top of your shared glass coffee table, ticking the tip of the city guide book and magazines rested on top.

“Boring. He was nice or whatever, good looking, but he wouldn’t shut up about league of legends and his job. Other than that he asked me no questions about myself or what I do. A failure as most would call it.”

“So I take it you wouldn’t want to go out with him again?”

“God, whatever gave you that impression? I thought you could tell we were headed for marriage?”

“Hey. I’m doing you a very nice thing, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.”

“Look, I know. But just because Jun is getting married and I still haven’t moved on doesn’t mean I need to be dating all of the sudden.”

The boy patted the seat next to him. Scooching over from his spot, making room for you on the couch.

“ It’s been nearly three years since you ended it with him. At least fuck someone before you dry up.”

“That’s fucking gross and what vibrators are for.”

A small scream left your friend's mouth as he covered his ears trying to remove what he had just heard coming out of your mouth.

“Y/n his wedding is in two months, we need to find someone to bring that’s not me. You don’t want to feel the embarrassment of his pity party and everyone feeling sorry for you.”

“Why can’t you just be my date?”

“Too obvious. Plus your whole family will be there, just do it or you know your parents will be in your case again. This ‘ secret man’ you’ve been seeing doesn’t exist and I think your Mom is starting to catch on.”

He was right. Your parents come from a high status, as do your ex boyfriends, they were the reason you both had met and became friends in the first place. But, when your relationship ended you lied to them, it was working well until you got a call from your very upset mother telling you Jun showed up to your house with his family and a girl on his arm that wasn’t you.

“Okay, then why can’t I choose my own date?”

“The men you chose to quote on quote date are literally disturbing, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. Like that one dude you brought here last time? Whatever the fuck his name was literally was wearing a necklace vial of his own blood and claimed drinking your own urine and reusing water is the only way we can save the planet.”

“Okay, but he was nice.”

“He literally didn’t flush the toilet because he only went number one. That’s fucked, no.”

“Can I at least, like at the very least have some approval over the men you match me with then?”

“Maybe.”

“ Kwanie, please. Come on, don’t make me use the what goes around card, it’s my turn”

“No, it's absolutely my turn.”

“Not true, you wasted it two months ago when I had to bail you out of that strange house party orgy thing by saying your dog died and coming in crying to a bunch of naked strangers. You owe me.”

“Valid.”

“How did you not realize what that party was anyway?”

“This is not currently about my life failures, but yours my beautiful friend.”

Laughing at Seungkwan's major mishap, you forgot to greet your dog, Lucky. She was waiting and crying at your feet, finally waking up from her sweet slumber to greet you.

“Hello my baby, do we have to go outside?”

“She went for a walk this afternoon, but after her dinner she crashed so she probably wants a walk. I can go if you want to change or shower.”

“No it’s alright, I can take her, you're already in your pj’s and after my date I need a distress, want anything from the mart?”

“Ice cream?”

With a small nod you jumped up, taking the small curly creature in your arms and grabbing her harness before heading back outside into the warm spring air.

Ten minutes into your evening stroll, you decided to sit on the green wooden bench overlooking the water, the same bench your grandmother always spoke about when you asked her the same story about how she and your grandfather got engaged. The gold plaque with their names rubbing off sitting behind your back.

Suddenly you heard a man yelling from behind you, running through the green grass lit up with fluorescent lights.

“Hey, Kkuma, no come back.”

A small white dog came up behind Lucky sniffing her and starting to play, you noticed her cute hairclip and ran your hands through her fur.

“God, I’m sorry. She normally doesn’t run off like that.”

“It’s okay my dog lov-“

As you turned around to look into the round eyes of the owner, you were stunned with how beautiful he was.

His dark hair pushed under a cap, a white t-shirt too big for his frame sitting beautifully in his toned shoulders, and his red sweatpants matching his shoes.

The unfamiliar man was bending down now petting your precious pet and his own at the same time talking to them in sweet baby voices.

“This is Kkuma by the way, and you are?”

“Y/N”

“Hi y/n, you’re so cute, you and kkuma can be best friends if your mom lets you.”

You let out a roaring laugh realizing he thought you had introduced your pet and not yourself.

“Oh sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just I’m y/n this is Lucky sorry my fault.”

“Oh god, cool. Sorry Lucky, I’m Seungcheol. You can call me Cheol and this is Kkuma.”

“Nice to meet you Cheol and Kkuma.”

“You too. Look I know I just met you and all, but I’m new to the area. I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee and let the girls hangout sometime?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Let me give you my number.”

Seungcheol handed you his cell phone with a new contact page pulled up giving you full reign to type your name and number into his list.

Handing the device back to him your fingers touched, creating an electric shock, to not like you to believe in signs, but for some reason it felt like the universe trying to tell you something.

“Thank you, I’ve actually got to get going, but if you're free tomorrow would you want to grab coffee and hangout at the dog park?”

“Yeah, totally. Just text me a time, we can just meet here. What kind of coffee do you drink? There’s a good spot by my apartment. I can just pick it up for us.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you. Just a black americano is cool or a cold brew whichever.”

“No fun I see.”

“How would you know that? Just because I don’t like sugary drinks doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.”

“I don’t know, we will see.”

“We will. I’ll catch you tomorrow girls.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Seungcheol left the same way he came running through the grass with Kkuma on his heels, following him all the way back to their home.

Strolling back down the pathway back to your apartment, you could help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you knew nothing about the man you just met other than his name and his cute dog, but there was a lot of unknown.

Smiling like a Cheshire Cat, you unlocked the front door and watched Lucky sprint back into Seungkwan lounging on the couch, eating for the ice cream you had forgotten.

“Where’s the snacks? Also why are you smiling like an idiot you’re freaking me out.”

“We met a guy with his dog, a very cute guy might I add, who actually asked for my number and wants to get coffee tomorrow.”

“ What the fuck, it’s late tell me he doesn’t live in the park?”

“No he said he just moved to the area, he was clearly not a park dweller he had keys, and smelt amazing actually.”

“Smelling strangers? A new low even for you”

“Oh my god, fuck off.”

Seungkwan pulled his phone out and opened various social media apps preparing himself for best friend stalking duties.

“What’s his name?”

“Seungcheol, not sure about his last name, but he goes by Cheol and his dog was Kkuma.”

“Great.. okay, found him I assume?”

“What the fuck, how? Let me see.”

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Fuck off?”

Grabbing Seungkwan's phone from his grip, you scroll quickly through the new faces' social media.

“Yeah, it’s him.”

“Okay, let me see. Wait, he's actually hot AND seems to have his own business?”

“Oh my god.”

“Here, look”

After the next few hours, you and your friend stumble on into your separate rooms preparing yourself for slumber, which never seems to reach you and before you know it dawn is creeping its way through your curtains, and your backup preparing yourself for a day with you and Lucky's new friends.

Something about your energy was excitable and nearing frantic, you could wait to step outside into the fresh air with your pocket sized princess at your side, but it was still early.

You had decided on pampering yourself for this morning, finding the need to make yourself up, you spread on your skin care with glee, drew perfect lines of eyeliner and strained your hair, pulling it up into a nice tight ponytail the hair tie matching the taupe tone of your sweat suit perfectly. Before you knew it it was 9:45 a perfect time for you and Lucky to step outside the door.

Placing her in her tote bag, you stepped inside of your favorite coffee shop, the light pink walls covered in photos and paintings, the smell of the espresso seemed sweeter.

“Morning, y/n you look beautiful today. Would you like the usual?”

“Thank you, for me, yes. But can I also get a large americano, just black and he didn’t tell me iced or hot, so iced is good I think? Or maybe hot with a cup of ice on the side? If that’s okay?”

“He? Did you finally start dating someone?”

“Oh no, just a friend of mine. Seungkwan told you shit about me didn’t he?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“No worries, can I actually get two of the plain croissants and two of the flower dog cookies too?”

“No problem, it’ll be right out.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a seat next to the pick up counter you scrolled through the instagram of the boy you’re meant to be meeting, telling yourself it’s just to remember his face, but really it was to get a peek into what else he’s into or if he was single.

“Y/N”

“Oh shit, sorry. Thank you guys, see you tomorrow.”

Picking up the paper coffee carrier and pastry bag, you waved goodbye to the baristas and briskly walked back to the bench you were at yesterday, your bench, spotting the back of Seungcheol’s head watching the water with his dog.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, no problem. I just got here.”

Placing your items down on the bench, you freed her bag and greeted Kkuma alongside her before taking your seat.

“Here’s your coffee, I wasn’t sure if you wanted hot or iced so I got you a cup of ice too just in case, a croissant, and a little treat for your girl too.”

“Wow thank you so much, hot is fine actually. How are you?”

“Good, nervous. I mean it’s not every day you meet a stranger for coffee.”

Seungcheol laughed, tipping his head back slightly before taking a bite of his pastry.

“Sorry. I know it’s weird, you just seemed like someone I wanted to get to know, and Kkuma liked you so I figured you’re good people.”

“Well, thank you. You too. Lucky generally does not like men other than my friend Seungkwan, my dad, and my ex-boyfriend so consider yourself special.”

“I do.”

“So what brought you to this neighborhood? Work, a relationship?”

“No relationship, but actually my business partner is from here. We decided to open our warehouse and stuff here because it’s much better than doing it in the city. We have a spirit company and we’re planning on opening a brewery and bar, so that’s why I’ve been working late nights. I guess it served me well, I made a friend on my first day.”

“You’ve only been here for a full day? What the hell? You already know the best spot in town. What kind of stuff do you guys make?”

“Beer and soju mainly, we’ve been working on it for five years now and are finally at a spot to open up and start selling it to people, which is cool. But what about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a medical student actually, my parents are both doctors, I used to really want to be one too, but I don’t know, I don’t really have the same passion for it as I used to.”

“Well what would you do if you had the choice?”

“I always wanted to design stuff for dogs, start a rescue, anything like that. I got so happy seeing Kkuma as an accessory girl.”

“Yeah, she’s very stylish. I think you should go for it, you know? Why waste time becoming something for someone else and risk being unhappy just for their sake?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t even know how to start a business on my own, let alone tell my parents.”

“Hey, I didn’t either and look where it’s gotten me.”

You turned back to the water, staring into the calm blue waters, trying not to go into your own head.

“You’re oddly inspiring, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thank you, y/n. You’re oddly sassy, I’ll give you that.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“You already tried to clock me by saying I’m no fun because I drink black coffee and you said oddly inspiring like a back handed compliment. You definitely are, but I like it.

“Good.”

You had continued your twice weekly hangouts with Kkuma and her dad for two weeks now, getting excited whenever the days roll around to see the two of them again, but you haven’t hung out once without them around, which made you wonder if your friendship or crush rather on this boy was only due to your dogs being friends themselves.

Seungkwan tried setting you up on more and more dates with more and more duds, he was starting to lose hope himself, knowing that the one person he could set you up with was Seungcheol but he didn’t want to overstep.

Strolling home from another failed connection, you decide to stop and have a beer before going home to give the dirty details to Seungkwan about who you had just met.

Pulling open the tab of one of your drinks from your six pack, you took a deep breath and sat down, feeling your eyes welling up with tears.

Another can opened as you went to take the first sip. A hand comes on your shoulders, whispering a boo in your ears.

“What the fuck!”

Jumping up from your seat the hand on your shoulder belonged to Seungcheol, the look in his eyes went from happy to concerned as he saw the small streaks of tears on your cheeks, you top now dribbled with spots of beer.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks. I’m sorry I scared you, I thought you heard me behind you.”

“It’s alright, I was in my own world anyway. You look nice, where are you headed?”

“Soft opening for my bar actually, I texted you, but I figured you didn’t respond because you were busy.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to come. I was a bit preoccupied on an awful fucking date.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Well the good news is you technically didn’t miss it, it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes and you’re dressed very nice. It worked out.

“Fuck I wish I paid more attention, I could’ve got you some flowers or something.”

“Next time. Will your roommate be alright taking care of Lucky?”

“Yeah of course, he knew I would be out tonight. I’ll text him just to be sure.”

“Cheers to hanging out without our kids?”

“Definitely.”

With that suddenly your awful night and doubts about your relationship with the raven haired boy went out the window.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Seungcheol lent his arm out for you to wrap your own around, and you both stayed out that way for a few moments, before discarding your cans and walking the way to his new venture.

“Here it is, you ready?”

“When you told me you were opening this up I thought you hadn’t even started? But it looks like it’s fully ready.”

“Ah, well we had planned to wait a bit, but we’re getting too antsy, so here we are.”

“It’s beautiful, holy shit.”

“Thanks, sit here, I’ll be right back.”

You took a seat on the green leather booth, looking around and taking in the ambiance of the custom lighting and ribbon like wallpaper, when a blonde gentleman walked over sitting down across from you.

“Y/n? Right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you…”

“Jeonghan, I’m Cheol’s business partner.”

“Jeonghan, right. Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”

“Likewise, you’re so much prettier than Cheol let on actually.”

“Oh?”

Without a chance to interrogate the new face further Seungcheol walked back over to your table, setting down a few bottles of various spirits for you to try, including a couple of cocktails.

“He didn’t scare you too much did he?”

“Not at all, he was just telling me actually how much prettier I am than you alluded to.”

“Jeonghan, don’t do that to her, come on. You know very well I told you she was pretty, I even showed you her instagram, you agreed.”

“I know, I just wanted to make you tell her yourself and my job is done, see you around y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

As Jeonghan left the table you felt your cheeks growing with heat, unsure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Seungcheols friend made him confess he thought you were good looking.

“Sorry about him, he’s a menace.”

“No need to be sorry, I have my own menace at home and I don’t mean my dog.”

Seungcheol laughed, pouring you a shot of his very own soju to taste, filling with anticipation hoping you enjoy the drink he’s serving you, looking for your approval became a big part of his mind lately.

Lifting your glass up to his and clinking them together, the liquor poured down the back of your throat filling your mouth with sweetness and warmth.

“Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“No, very good. That’s actually delicious. It’s so clean and fresh.”

“That makes me so happy to hear.”

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Okay, beer next. This is just a standard sour, some lime and sea salt, sort of beach vibes.”

“Sounds amazing, okay.”

Tipping your head back you sipped at the foamy top of the glass, savoring the flavors in your mouth.

“I hate you so much.”

“What? Why?”

“Seungcheol, you're way too humble when you talk about your business, this shit is amazing. I said I hate you because I’m going to crave this shit and I’ll have to see you all the time.”

“I thought you liked seeing me all the time?”

“You’re okay.”

“I have to say it’s cool to be here with you without the dogs, not that they distract too much, but they definitely take away giving you my full attention.”

“I mean how could they not, they’re cute as fuck,”

“So are you.”

“Wow, two drinks in Cheol and you’re already calling me cute? I wonder what else you’ll say the more you drink?"

“Technically we’re four drinks in, but I guess I remember the time I spent with you more than you do. Did those drinks on the bench mean nothing to you?”

“Oh fuck, I did forget. I guess technically I’m five drinks in then, catch up, bitch.”

You and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night being greeted by his friends, most of them already assuming who you were, letting you know that Seungcheol talks about you more than you realized.

Feeling your blood alcohol content rising, you decided to take a step outside and refresh.

The bell of the door opened up behind you, putting you face to face with his cherry lips once again, watching them light up a hand rolled cigarette to his lips.

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to step out for a second. Are you good?”

“Very. Want a cig?”

“No, I’m good for now. Ask me again later.”

“So will there be a later? You’re not ditching me now?”

“I’d never do that.”

“So, y/n does this maybe get me a chance to take you on a date? I’m kind of drunk so I’m feeling oddly bold.”

“Is this not sort of a date?”

“I was hoping you thought so. Is that a yes?”

“Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”

“Before we go on our date though, y/n. I have one final question?”

“Yes?”

“Do you still think I’m boring?”

“A little.”

Seungcheol grabbed your waist and spun you around, causing his perfectly rolled tobacco to fall on the sidewalk.

Blissfully you were giggling and laughing under the red led lights of his bar.

“Take it back.”

“Nope.”

“Please.”

You looked into his puppy dog eyes and did something out of your comfort zone. Wrapped your hands loosely around his neck, placing a deepened kiss onto his lips.

His mouth tasted of cigarettes and salt with a hint of vanilla from the lip balm he always had on him.

“Is that a good ‘sorry I called you boring’ kiss?”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Good. They’ll be more where that came from.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

You and Seungcheol unwrap from each other, finding Jeonghan standing and cheering in the window watching the two of you.

“Can’t believe I got a hot date and a sister for Kkuma all in one.”

“You lucky dog.”

607 notes · View notes

hugshughes · 5 months

Text

this is me trying L. Fantilli

Luca Fantilli x fem!reader

synopsis - You just want Luca to know that you're trying.

wc - 2.5k

contains - cursing, academic burnout (self reflection...), crying, not feeling good enough, reader has an older brother, um suggestiveness??? (reader makes one joke), that's it! LMK!

an - im so sorry i kept you guys waiting... but happy thanksgiving, forgive me im so thankful for you guys. this was a bit more self indulgent than my other fics... THIS WAS SO LATE BECAUSE i wrote 2000+ words then they didn't save and so i literally cried over it and couldn't write for the rest literal week whenever i came back to it i was upset, like i was that sad guys. and i really don't love this because it just isn't as perfect as the first one i wrote was. anyways hope you love this!

i've been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.

You were sick. Not like physical illness, go to the doctor and get medicine sick. You were sick of waking up every day, going to the same classes, eating the same food, coming home, sitting alone in your dorm, then falling asleep and doing it over again. But you couldn't afford to do anything else at the same time. If you wanted to get the grades you needed to pass your current classes, you were going to have to work your ass off.

You were always considered gifted. You took advanced classes all of high school, attending college-level courses in your junior year. Even in your freshman year at Umich, you passed with flying colors, but now, now it was different. You don't know why classes were so much harder now, and it was especially hard because everything had always been so easy.

Even with all of this, you had Luca. Luca had been your boyfriend since October of freshman year. He'd always stood by your side no matter what, but now it felt different. He'd never seen you like this, struggling so much with things you were known for being good at. You remember him telling you how proud he was when you had gotten a 98% on one of your final exams last year, you were worried he wouldn't be proud anymore.

As a child, you were conditioned into thinking that better grades meant better treatment from your parents. Your brother had been a star student always until he'd slacked off senior year and ended up going to a college he was way too smart for. When that happened, your parents decided you wouldn't be like your brother. You would go to a good school, and get good grades, and in exchange they would love you, at least that's how it felt.

i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.

All the love you'd ever known was for a price, your parents', your boyfriend's, even your brother's it was like you had to be good enough before they would consider you lovable.

You never felt this from Luca, but you never gave him a reason to think otherwise. You'd always been this smart girl for him, a girl he bragged about to his friends. The girl he could go to for help in classes.

You didn't mean to be pushing Luca away, but you were so stressed and didn't want to bring him into it.

I know I already said you weren't sick like an illness, but right now you felt gross. You were stuffy and coughing and had a pounding headache, but you had assignments due at 11:59 pm and they couldn't wait. It was 9:03 pm and it didn't look like you were gonna get any relief from class work for a while longer.

pulled the car off the road to the lookout. could've followed my fears all the way down.

You didn't even know you were crying until you saw tears fall onto your iPad screen, where you were currently writing notes for a quiz you had tomorrow. You felt completely helpless. You couldn't stop and let yourself wallow, because you had to get moving on your study guide.

You dropped your Apple Pencil and just buried your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes till you saw stars. Your pity party was interrupted by your phone ringing. Your phone was on your studying do not disturb so if someone's call was coming through it had to be Luca's.

You quickly tried to steady your breathing before swiping to answer the call.

"Hi?"

"Hey. So, what's with you totally skipping my game? You know that meant a lot to me."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How did you forget? You were the worst girlfriend ever.

"Oh my God, Luca. I'm so fucking sorry, it completely slipped my mind, oh my God, I didn't even know. I had a really long day, baby, I'm so sorry."

You were trying not to cry even more, you didn't want Luca to think you were a crybaby. Crybaby. That's what your parents called you whenever you got like this, too much for them to love.

and maybe i don't quite know what to say,

Luca just sighed, upset. He was upset with you, and you couldn't fix it. You could hear rustling on Luca's end, and another voice. All of a sudden you were seventeen getting a call from your nineteen-year-old boyfriend while he cheated on you, while another girl laid with him.

but i'm here in your doorway.

You didn't think Luca would do that to you, you really knew he wouldn't. But that one part of you was just screaming that you'd proven yourself unworthy to him, that he was done.

i just wanted you to know,

"I just, I don't even know anymore. You haven't consistently talked to me in weeks, every time we do speak you're in your head, and you keep pushing things off and forgetting. I just don't know what I'm doing wrong here."

Fuck, you couldn't stop the floodgates now. You quickly sniffed, holding the phone away from you so he wouldn't hear, soaking the cuff of your sweatshirt sleeve with tears before trying to respond.

"No, no Luc, you're not doing anything wrong. The last month has just been tough, I just don't know how to tell you. I'm trying Luca, I am, and I'm sorry. I know it doesn't fix anything and you still have every right to be angry with me, I understand why-"

this is me trying.

"Hey, it's whatever, just don't worry about it."

No. No this couldn't happen like this. He couldn't be checking out of your relationship right now. You needed him, even if you didn't know how to tell him. You accidentally let out a whimper when you tried to speak, before shakily breathing a deep breath and trying again.

"No, it isn't. I'm not being good to you. I just- Fuck Luca I'm sorry I didn't mean to forget, and I'm not meaning to be such a bad girlfriend I just, there's just,"

"Just what?"

"I don't know how to tell you! I don't want you to think differently about me Luc. You've never seen me like this."

Your trauma was truly shining through, you were terrified of Luca thinking you weren't smart.

"Are you like uninterested now? You could just tell me, not lead me on! Not just ghost me!"

"No Luca! I love you so much, I'm in love with you. I just-"

You cut yourself off, letting out a stressed sigh, rubbing your eyes when you felt the tears prick in them.

i just wanted you to know,

You didn't know what to say, it was so complicated. Every time you ever tried to talk about this with your family they shut you down, told you you were wrong for feeling like you did, and you didn't want Luca to think those things too.

"I just can't do this stuff anymore,"

"What?"

this is me trying.

"I'm just not smart anymore, and everything is so hard. And I don't know how to talk to you about it 'cause I don't want you to think I'm not smart, but I don't think I am anymore."

"Oh, baby."

Luca was stunned, his girl was going through something and he was upset with her over a hockey game. He thought you were beginning to distance yourself from him because you started to be uninterested in him. He never would've assumed you were doing it because you were scared to talk to him. He never would've assumed you were scared he would think less of you.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's gonna be alright, okay? How about I come over? We can talk more about everything and I know I'm not the brightest guy when it comes to all of your stuff but I could try to help. That okay, pretty?"

"Yes. Please, Angel. Need you right now."

"Okay, give me a couple minutes, I'll be right there. I love you, okay?"

"I love you, Luc."

Luca let you hang up, taking a deep breath and sitting for a moment just to take in what had just happened. He had a bad feeling in his stomach now, knowing how you were hurting. He quickly recovered and got up, putting his shoes and a hat on backward before leaving his dorm.

He walked fast through campus to get to your dorm building, the cold motivating him further. When he got to your dorm building, he quickly went up the stairs, taking two at a time, and to your room. You were in a single this year, so he wasn't worried about a roommate being bothered by his presence. He knocked on the decorated door gently, bouncing on his feet waiting for you.

they told me all of my cages were mental, so i got wasted like all my potential.

Luca could've sworn he felt his heart break when he saw your face, the exhaustion mixed with sadness wearing you down. He didn't say anything before jumping to wrap his arms around you, just holding you for a minute. You clung to him so tightly, you'd missed him so badly while digging yourself into a hole of isolation.

"Hi sweet girl."

You could've started crying again. He held you gently but firmly, and it was all you ever needed. You felt yourself relax for the first time in two and a half weeks.

and my words shoot to kill when i'm mad. i have a lot of regrets about that.

"Hi Luc"

You sniffled, and Luca just melted. He pulled away from you just a little, pulling his arms away so he could cradle your faces in his palms. You brought your hands up to rest on his wrists, rubbing your thumbs back and forth.

"I missed you, pretty."

You missed him like a little kid. But it was your fault you were ever apart.

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

"I missed you. 'M so sorry I isolated myself from you, I'm so fucking stressed right now. Everything is hard and it's scary 'cause it's never been hard like this for me, and I-"

fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here,

"I know baby. It is scary. College is just scary. And you are like the smartest girl I think ever so I know it's like even scarier for you when things don't make sense quickly, but it's gonna be okay. Because you have your amazing, talented, stud of a boyfriend to help you."

pouring out my heart to a stranger. but i didn't pour the whiskey.

You gave him a look, laughing for the first time in many days.

"He is pretty amazing, and talented, and hot, isn't he?"

i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.

He nodded reassuringly, before putting his hands on your hips and pushing you back into your room, closing your door behind him.

"Damn, you just got here."

"Shut the hell up."

You laughed as you climbed up onto your bed, pulling Luca up next to you after he took his shoes off.

at least i'm trying.

"So, about this class. What do we need to learn?"

You explained how tonight you only really needed to do two things, finish a paper that was 75% done, and do another assignment that if you could figure out how to understand the concept, would be done in no time. You both snuggled close together while looking at the paper, Luca helping you through sentences you got stuck on. You finished the paper quickly, then pulled up your notes for the concept of the other assignment.

and it's hard, to be at a party when i feel like an open wound. it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you.

At one point Luca took your laptop to read through the notes so you just turned over and rested your head on his chest, before seeing his gorgeous hair covered by a stupid hat grabbing it off of him, and putting it on your bedside table.

"No hats in my room."

"What? Since when?"

"Since I want to see your pretty hair, not the maize and blue hat I see every other day."

Luca just laughed, shaking his head and running his non-scrolling hand down your back. Luca somehow understood the concept and reiterated it to you in a way that made everything click. He was your good luck charm, you knew it. Everything made sense with him.

you're a flashback, in a film reel, on the one screen in my town.

You made him lay on your chest with your laptop resting on his back while you completed the assignment. One hand was in his hair while the other was gliding across the keyboard. You finished it in 20 minutes. And your chest felt so much lighter after you hit the submit button.

You closed your laptop, sliding it onto the floor before putting both of your hands into Luca's hair.

"I knew you could do it, baby. You just needed someone to tell you that."

"I love you."

"I love you so much."

Luca's arms around your middle tightened, and he moved his head to look up at you.

"I know you feel like you have to be this perfect person, baby, but I need you to know you don't have to do that for anyone, especially me. Because you are everything, and I can't take care of you if you're scared to talk to me about how you're feeling. I know your parents and other people make you feel like if you don't do good at school they will love you less, but you need to know that you could flunk out of school, and you would still be the most important person to me, okay?"

i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.

You were crying. You pulled him somehow closer and hugged him so tight, pulling away after over a minute to give him a good long kiss that expressed your gratitude. Because you were, so fucking grateful. This boy had seen all of it, and still chose you, and would continue to choose you until his last breath.

(and maybe i don't quite know what to say,)

"Thank you, Angel. You don't know how much hearing that means to me. I love you, so so much."

"You're everything. I see that you're trying, and that is always gonna be enough."

i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. at least i'm trying.

786 notes · View notes

braimin · 1 month

Note

This is super random but one of my favorite things in fics is when Zeff like hates Zoro. Like obviously he doesn’t actually hate him and as long and Sanjis happy he’s happy and he knows Zoro makes him happy, but I still think the idea of him like constantly staring daggers Into Zoro is so funny.

Also another one of my favorites is Usopp walking in at the worst time for them, like Usopp has seen some horrors, I know he is so traumatized and it kills me every time.

Anyway this is just me yapping cuz I don’t have anyone to tell this to sorry😭

Darling, the whole reason I started posting on here in the first place is because I have no friends who will listen to me yap, so no need to apologize for being a fellow yapper. ✨

Zeff has mad beef with Zoro, not just because he's dating his son, but also because he's so reckless. And when Zoro gets hurt is makes Sanji upset. Zoro cannot be allowed to live if he makes Zeff's son upset. But him dying would make Sanji cry so Zeff just has to settle for quietly fuming and being an asshole when his boy isn't looking.

When Zeff first moved to the All Blue to be with Sanji, Zoro got to see how much of a daddy's boy he is. Like they yell and argue and even have physical fights in the kitchen all the time, but also when they cook together Sanji hangs off him like a child, he's always one step behind him and following him everywhere. Sanji could ask the old man to do anything and he'd do it. He's woken Zeff up at three am before and asked him to make soup because he didn't feel good and Zeff immediately was down in the kitchen making it. Zoro wants to tease him about it, but when he brings it up Zeff will loom over him with a knife and be like 'And what about it, scrub.'

Zoro learns very quickly where Sanji gets his pettiness from because Zeff will disagree with anything Zoro says on principle alone, it does not matter what he's saying. He purposely only speaks french to Sanji for a really long time because he thinks Zoro doesn't deserve to know what they're talking about. He refused to cook any japanese dishes for him for a while too, just to be a dick. Zoro has lived with Sanji for a long time so he's used to the petty behavior. Eventually Zeff chills out and they bond over nagging Sanji into taking breaks and taking care of himself. And they start having drinks and fishing nights every week so they can shit talk about the annoying things Sanji has done lately. Sanji just has to deal with it because they're getting along, and he doesn't wanna ruin that.

Usopp having to live through The Horrors of being Sanji's bestie is a tragedy. Like he's one of the ones that spends the most time at Sanji's side during the day. (Because Luffy isn't allowed in the kitchen when he's not eating, Robin and Chopper spend a lot of time in the library studying, and everyone else prefers to be out on deck doing their own things.) Sometimes he'll come to sit in the kitchen and find Zoro and Sanji making out, or hear Zoro try to coerce the cook into a storage closet. He's had to witness them be so gross together.

But the true Horrors aren't always the shit he has to see, no, it's also the shit he has to hear Sanji talk about. Because that jerk has no filter and no shame. So they'll be sitting in silence for a while and then the cook will turn to him and give him the most unhinged, and vulgar description of what him and his boyfriend got up to the night before; and then ends it with 'So yeah, now my leg hurts, maybe I sprained something?'. Usopp has tried to tell him to stop, that he does not want to hear the nitty gritty of how these freaks get down, but Sanji just ignores him and keeps going. Sometimes he'll look to Usopp and be like 'Ya'know, lately I've been wanting to try-' and then break down one of his depraved fantasies about the swordsman, and Usopp wishes Chopper could do something to make him forget the last eight minutes of his life.

He tells Usopp everything, not just the sexual shit, he tells him about all the 'cute' things Zoro has said, shows him the little trinkets and gifts the man has brought him, he talks about what his future plans are with his pet moss. And Usopp is happy for his friends, yeah, but he's also a lonely guy with no girlfriend, so these bastards can go to hell with all their cutesy romance bullshit.

#zosan #one piece #sanji #zoro #Usopp #red leg zeff #every now and then Zoro has to stop himself from fist fighting an old man #Usopp thinks he deserves financial compensation for the emotional trauma they have given him.#Sanji is just happy to be here

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luv4fushi · 1 year

Text

jujutsu kaisen bf headcanons

jjk - gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge

content: just some of my delusions <3 fem!reader

warnings: word dump, other than that nothing else hehe

i started this account to write oneshots but they’re all like. 7k words…. and MORE. so now im posting this because i’ve been writing two different stories for 3 days now.

gojo satoru

he’s such a menace. he looovessss being all gross in public to annoy people.

he doesn’t tell you when he’s upset and overcompensates to hide it (but you can always tell)

he likes when you play with his hair and when you tell him good things about himself. being the strongest means he’s used to having a lot of responsibility (everyone relies on him). he likes it when you tell him he’s doing a good job and that he can rely on you, too.

he doesn’t get jealous easily (he pretends he does, but it never actually bothers him) because he knows he’s the best and he’s confident in your love. he’ll pretend to be all pouty and sad but at the scene of the crime he finds it SO FUNNY. “babe… you did NOT have to reject him like that.”

he’s rich (duh) so he randomly comes home with the most EXTRAVAGANT GIFTS. you’ll be like “wtf???” and he’d just stand there with the hugest grin on his face and be like “i thought of you!!”

he pulls the “don’t you love me?” card WAY TOO OFTEN. it works every time.

he hates when you cry. he thinks he’s bad at comforting people so he’ll be all nervous and afraid that you’ll hate him, but he’s actually good at it. he pulls you into his arms and lets you nuzzle into his neck. “i’m right here. i’ve got you, baby.” AHHHH

nanami kento

he’s so daddy material. not even in a sexual way. he’s just very responsible and reliable. he’s the kind of bf where you don’t have worry about planning trips and events because he handles it. he’s the bf you’d trust with your passport.

he loves to get massages from you and home cooked meals.

he likes upbeat, bubbly people because he’s relatively calm. he likes to watch you do cute things with a fond smile on his face. when you force him to participate in things, he’ll only grin and let you have your way with him.

he overthinks EVERYTHING. he knows he’s a workaholic so he’ll say things like, “i’m so sorry i’m late. i didn’t want to be caught up at work, but things just happened to be that way today.” and if you pretend to be upset he’ll be at your feet. “i’m sorry, love. i swear i love coming home to see you and spend time with you. don’t be upset, hm?”

HE’S SO … he makes you feel protected. he’s very stern with others, but around you he’s a lot more soft and flexible. “you don’t need to force yourself. i can do it for you, baby.” HEHEH he’s so lovely i love him

he’s very attentive. he never makes you feel like he’s not listening to you. he will quite literally drop whatever he’s doing to listen to you.

fushiguro megumi

he’s so SHY!!! he blushes really easily too. you have to initiate most of the touching and talking at the beginning of your relationship with him.

he actually doesn’t mind pda. he feels kind of prideful that he’s able to call you his. he LOVES holding your hand and he does that little thing where he’ll squeeze it when he knows you’re nervous.

everybody makes fun of him for being super soft with you. at first, he’s not really good with expressing his emotions, but give it three months and he’s the cheesiest bf ever. he loves using pet names in private with you.

he’s on the quieter side so he’s able to observe you REALLY well. got a new haircut? “did you cut your hair? it looks nice.” wearing some new jewelry? “it’s pretty. you should’ve told me, i would’ve bought you some more.” always cold? “i wore another sweater because i knew you’d be cold.” got your nails done? “why didn’t you choose the color i picked?” he’s SO thoughtful.

he’s such a cuddler. loves being held. loves holding you. literally would rather spend all day in bed with you than do anything else. he’s so AGH !! “why don’t you just sleep here tonight? i don’t want you to go.”

itadori yuji

he is SHAMELESS omg. he loves to talk about you and brag about you to anyone that will listen. “my girlfriend can do that, too!” + “my girlfriend says that i can’t do that, sorry.” + “my girlfriend doesn’t like things like that…” + “my girlfriend thinks these are cute!” + “my girlfriend is so pretty.”

he adores you so much he’s so cute about it. he literally dies when he’s without you. he’s SUPER clingy and doesn’t even try to hide it. everyone else thinks it’s soooo annoying but he doesn’t care.

he loves receiving forehead kisses, but because he’s literally like … curse offspring (LOL) he’s taller than you so he has to bend down while you tiptoe to kiss him. he also loves to pinch your cheeks at random times.

he’s a lot more buff than you think he is (cue the scene where he’s sprinting while carrying nobara) so hugging him is literally like hugging a huge bear.

he gives you a kiss EVERY TIME HE SEES YOU. he gets so sad when you refuse one. “what do you mean ‘not right now’? i don’t see the problem. i literally your boyfriend :(“

inumaki toge

he’s also a menace but not as much as gojo. he’s SO PLAYFUL and you always pretend to be annoyed but he knows you aren’t.

he’ll pull up and randomly give you food. that’s his love language. he loves feeding you. he’ll literally pull you on to the seat next to him and give you food if you say you haven’t eaten.

he LOVES giving you his sweaters. once he hands them to you, prepare to never give them back because he smells really good. you always smell like him to everyone else (that’s his goal)

he makes those super corny playlists that spell out a sentence. but he also makes playlists with music he knows you like to listen to. he’ll name them really funny things like “me and bae’s locked-in playlist”

he’s so witty. he makes you laugh so hard and then he pretends like your laughter doesn’t make him swell with pride. he LOVES to pepper you with kisses to hear you giggle.

he’s super cheesy and hilarious over text. he uses every pet name imaginable. “baby can you come wake me up in an hour?” + “angel i need u to give me back one sweater. just one.” + “princess ur being unreasonable … AN OVERNIGHT TRIP? i’m gonna jump.”

that’s all hehehe i love jjk boys sm

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #megumi x reader #yuji x reader #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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imfinereallyy · 10 months

Text

@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

#steddie #giving these boys the fluff they deserve #they have secret signals for everything #especially a ‘can you believe this guy’ one #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #birthday blues #stranger things #domestic fluff #happy ending #my writing #platonic stobin #Robin Buckley

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princessbrunette · 4 months

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imagine reader didn’t tell john b she was a virgin when they started going out and he takes her virginity unknowingly. after he does she confesses that that was her first time and boy is he mad. he’s all like “what the hell why did you let me do that” he’s just mad he took his poor girls innocence away :(

-🦭

ohhhhh my god this.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

tracing your fingertips along his chest afterwards as you lay with him, the man completely satisfied at your side, warm smile permanently etched onto his face.

“y’wanna know something john b?” you smile, tilting your head up to look at him. his brows jump up a little with interest, still smiling down at you.

“shoot.” his hand drops down to draw shapes on your bare shoulder with his finger.

“that um… what we just did… i haven’t done it before.” you admit shyly. he blinks at you a few times in confusion, smile not faltering.

“like, what… the position?” he sounds more curious than anything, and you clear your throat, dropping your eyes down to your own hand where it’s splayed on his tanned skin.

“no, like… sex. i haven’t done it before ‘til now.” you voice quietly, and when you look back up at him his smile has dropped, drained from his face almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“…what?” he asks, slowly sitting up and you slide off him. your own smile drops too, thinking you were somewhat in trouble. did guys find that gross? was there some unspoken rule you didn’t know?

“y—yeah, john b you were my first time…” you try to reassure him and he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he puts his head in his hands for a moment.

“i really wish you would have told me that, babe.” he chides gently and you shuffle on the spot, tangled in the duvet as you turn a little more to look at him, bringing your knees to your chin in embarrassment.

“i’m… i’m sorry. i didn’t know…” he senses some upset in your tone so he looks up, not wanting to ruin the moment with his own dramatics.

“no, hey it’s…” he sighs, like it pains him. “its fine. i just… why’d you let me do that to you, huh?” he gently nudges your arm with his own as he comes to sit beside you. “i just took your virginity, like it’s nothing. i—i wasn’t even that gentle! did it hurt?” his brow is all creased as he turns his head to look at you.

“you were gentle, i think… it didn’t really hurt, just a bit of a stretch and obviously the feeling was kind of new to me so i had to get used to it… but it was nice. it felt good!” you explain, eyes wide and guilty. he sighs once more out of his nose, cupping your jaw with his hand softly and stroking along it with his thumb, just looking at you for a moment with those big brown puppy dog eyes.

“i just…i would have made it special, if i knew. like, would have taken you out to eat, got you flowers, lit candles or whatever. sex is… a special thing to me.” he mourns and you shrug, offering him a small smile.

“this was still pretty special, john b. i don’t need flowers or candles, i like things the way they are here.”

“…yeah?”

“mhm.”

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

#🦭 anon #john b prompt

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patrophthia · 5 months

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Hii soo I have a request for Regulus x reader :) okay so like maybe the reader got like a bad haircut or smt and feels very insecure and so Regulus comforts them and says like it's not that bad lol. You don't have to write it if you don't want to it's just a request! :)

i’m sorry this took so long, i have no excuse ive just been lazy 😭😭😭 but this idea, is so so cute hello?!?!

veritaserum | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, comforting, a bit suggestive, not proof read!

One thing about Regulus Black is that he tends to take things a little too seriously. Just a little, he promises as he watch you fuss over your new hair do.

A slight frown playing at your lips as you try to toss your locks in different directions. Left, right, left again, right again. Only to finally give up and huff out in frustration, turning to him with an all too upset look on your face.

“I told them to only take a few inches off, this way too much and it’s not even the style I asked for them to do! How am I supposed to go around looking like this, Reg?”

Regulus narrow his eyes, squinting as he tried to find what exactly was so wrong about your new cut. Sure it’s short, and definitely different from the pass styles he’s seen on you but you still look breathtaking, isn’t that all that matters? “Looking like…?”

“A derange person who doesn’t know how to take care of themselves,” you say, flailing your hands up in frustration. “Merlin, what am I going to do?”

“It’s not bad,” he offers, shrugging. And when your frowns deepens, he adds. “Really, it isn’t.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” your murmur, “just admit it doesn’t look good, I won’t be mad at you.”

“I’m not! I genuinely think it looks good on you.” And because Regulus tends to take things about too seriously, he reaches into his book bag before pulling out a small clear vial. “Here, this is veritaserum.”

He doesn’t need to explain it to you, the both of you having studied the content within the while a few classes ago in Potions. Regulus, pulls the cork open before quickly downing the clear substance.

There’s a few moments of silence where you both stared at one another. You not believing that he really downed an entire vial of truth serum just to prove of his point, and when you take a step forward; Regulus opens up his mouth to speak.

“Your new hair cut looks amazing on you, Mon chéri,” he says first. “Breath taking even.”

The corner of your lips twist upwards on its own accord, heart softening at his words. “You didn’t have to drink that just to tell me.”

“You wouldn’t have believe me otherwise,” he hiccups, short dark curls falling gracefully onto his forehead. Regulus, pushes it off his face, gazing at you with content. “Matter of fact, I think I’m getting hard just looking at you, I can’t fake that.”

“Gross, Reg,” you groaned, making your way towards him with a fake disgusted look, “you didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I didn’t want to either,” he says, reaching out for you, and you let him take your hand, “but I can’t really control what I want to say right now since I—” he lifts up the empty vial into your line of sight “—anyways, your hair looks good on you. And if you’re so worried about it then I’m sure there’s hair tonic that’ll grow it back out in a moments time.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, nodding as you agreed with him, “think I’ll keep it like this for a few weeks though.”

And when Regulus lets out a quiet —barely even there, “yes!” You think that he might’ve liked this hair cut more than he lets on.

#regulus x reader #regulus black imagines #regulus black fanfiction #regulus headcanon #regulus black x reader #regulus black fluff #🧳: my writing #— requests

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urrockstar-xe · 6 months

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never enough - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 2nd, 2023 12:16 am

hey, sorry i ghosted, I'm not doing to hot but here's something, I'm trying a little November challenge where i try and cope with life things where i write an imagine/blurb inspired by something that happened during my day, here's an argument i had with my mommy in a jj fic lol this isn't my best work but i hope u like it :3

this includes wording stating that the reader's hair is a texture that is easy to play with and the use of y/n and probably inaccurate JJ but i needed his comfort sue me

summary: How do you deal with having to have the very same (or at least very similar) conversations with your loved ones that involve what you're currently going through? Because that's the exact problem you’ve been having with JJ. angst to fluff??? kinda? hurt/comfort? idk

masterlist

wordcount: 1k

“You never do anything to show that you love me, JJ! You throw your arm around my shoulder and call it a fucking day”

Eventually what once was calm and civil and even mature conversations turn into screaming matches.

“I don’t know what else you fucking want from me, Y/n!” JJ’s voice bounced off the walls of the chateau which was luckily empty due to the small fire in the back.

“JJ, I expressed what I needed, I used my words and my actions to show and tell you exactly what I needed and you still couldn’t do me one small favor? I just wanted you to run your fingers through my hair a few times is that so fucking hard?” Your own voice was wavering in volume, sometimes louder and sometimes quiet, defeated even.

“I listen when you vent, I do better when we have a problem, I even fucking cancel my plans to spend time with you, nothing I do is ever fucking enough for you!” and there it was, the words slipping out of your dear boyfriend’s mouth before he could even think about it, the words that thrown in your face so very often, the words that made you question everything about yourself

He was trying, he was listening and he was being incredibly patient and understanding with you.

The look of regret from his words alone was enough to realize that.

Until that gross feeling of pride came onto you, possessing your entire being with the rage you’ve had building inside of you for months.

“Fuck you, JJ. fuck you, because I got upset with you and when I tried to walk away and blow off steam you got pissed and bitchy and didn’t fucking let me, and then when I explained my issue to you, you gave me a fucking attitude.” Your words were fast now, spewing out like a soda when you shake it too hard.

“I needed you! And I told you that! Just like you asked me to! How am I supposed to properly communicate with you when you tell me one thing and then turn around and do the fucking opposite!” it was less of a question and more of an accusation but at this point, it was hard to care.

You had tried responsibly talking to him, getting to a better place with him, but it wasn’t getting anywhere. Your relationship with JJ getting heavier on your shoulders and piling what smelt like loads of shit onto what you’ve already been struggling with.

“Y/n, baby-” JJ started but you were already out the door, feeling the guilt from ignoring him as you walked away yet still ignoring his calls even as your friends called out at the sight of you leaving what was supposed to be a night of freedom for the pogues.

When the next day came around the avoiding calls started, when JJ and Y/n got into a fight it caused tension in the entire friend group. There's a reason “pogues don’t date pogues” is such a big rule for you and your friends.

It wasn’t a rift it was just a fear, a fear of losing everything you all had,

all that you guys had.

But you couldn’t deal with the confrontation today, so you turned off your ringer and went about your day as normal, morning routine, work, go home, homework.

5 pm rolled around and you thought that maybe they had given up (feeding your delusional anxieties and fears at no fault of the pogues but still)

Then there was the knock on your door, and then another after you ignored the first,

This pattern repeated until eventually, you sighed, getting up from your bed to go down the hall and answer who you knew was your impatient boyfriend at the door.

“Hey, beautiful!” JJ’s voice was quiet as if he was astonished at the fact that you actually opened the door. The array of flowers sat loosely in his hands before he watched you look down at them and back up at him, wordlessly.

“Oh! This is for you, I uh, wanted to apologize.” JJ was almost stumbling over his words as he went to hand you the flowers, carefully examining you as you took them and moved back into your home,

He followed, mumbling more apologies before you set the small bouquet on the kitchen counter and turned to him.

“Listen, Y/n, You were right, I did ask you to be more clear on things you need from me and you were, and I, I dismissed you completely, I was just drunk and all over the place and I’m overworked like hell lately but these aren’t excuses and I’m sorry, my sweet girl, I really mean it” JJ’s words were calculated, he had thought about them all day and he did mean it,

despite this, there was still an aching feeling in your chest,

and the confusion and guilt you felt for still being upset about this stupid mistake caused the recurring tears to well up in your eyes as you stared at JJ’s chest, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, baby” he whispered, quiet and delicate like if he spoke any louder you’d fall apart in front of him.

Carefully, JJ pulled you into him, not knowing what else to do but you let him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as sobs wrecked through your body, broken apologies barely being heard through your tears and shaky breaths but JJ still held you,

Playing with your hair and shushing you and whispering “It's okay, baby” to every little apology that slipped past your lips.

You stood with each other like this until you eventually calmed down, JJ had managed to lean against the counter and in turn, get you to lean on him.

“I’ll do better baby I promise” He whispered into your hair, hoping you could hear it through the small pains of your hiccups from crying.

“I’m sorry there's always something wrong with me” you mumbled back, the soft laugh from JJ catching you off guard as he pulled you back just enough to hold your tear-stained cheeks in his hands.

“There’s always somethin’ wrong with us, we’re pogues.” He teased, earning a quiet scoff from you before he shut you up with a soft kiss pressed to your swollen lips and then one on your nose, and another on your forehead.

“We’ll be okay, pretty lady, we’ll get through it,”

#jj maybank x you #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank angst

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hockybish · 8 months

Text

The New Baby

I Hughes!sister au I

Lola Clementine Hughes was born on the last day of 2004, a little over one year and three months after her older brother Luke. She was the cutest little baby in the nursery with her big eyes and dark hair, she very much looked like her brothers.

The day after she was born, her brothers were anxiously waiting to meet her. A family member brought them to the hospital to the first meeting.

The boys had just been lectured by their father that they needed to be quiet because she had little ears with sensitive hearing. Jack had been held back out of the room a few minutes longer than Quinn had been because he was just too excited bouncing off the walls to meet the little girl. But once he had gotten into the room all of the warnings he had been given went straight out the window.

"I want to hold her! It's my turn!" Jack excitedly shouted entering the room where his mother and sister were in.

"Jack what did we just get done talking about? Lower your voice please." Jim followed his second child into the room. He held onto the very sleepy little Luke who most likely moments from falling asleep.

"Sorry dad." Jack gave his father the cheeky little grin that he was know to give when he was in trouble. Turning his stride into a run, he went over to Quinn sitting in the recliner to check out the newest addition to his family.

"Why is she so ugly?" The three year old future hockey superstar scrunched his face in disgust peering over the armrest of chair to get a glimpse of the small creature his brother was holding.

The new baby was all wrinkly and absolutely not cute what so ever like everyone had been telling him. Jack didn't get why everyone was so in love with her. He didn't recall Luke being that wrinkly or gross looking when he first met him.

"She's not ugly. She's a cute baby. You were an ugly one." Quinn quipped back at his brother, standing up for his baby.

Since he had only been a one year old at the time Jack had been born, he couldn't quite go off of memory at what Jack had looked like, but looking at the multitude of pictures that his parents had taken, he could easily come to the conclusion that his sister was ten times cuter.

"Mommy. Quinn called me ugly." Jack stuck out his lower lip and pouted.

"That's cuz you are." Quinn quipped back.

"Jack are you tattling again?" Ellen gave Jack a stern look. The tattling was issue and they were working on it.

"No!" "Yes!" The brothers said at the same time contradicting each other.

"Baa!" Luke pointed at Lola. Jim nodded and placed him next to Quinn in the chair. He was quickly reminded to be gentle when he patted the tuft of soft dark hair that sat on top of Lola's head.

After a few more minutes of Quinn holding the baby, Jack asked again if he could have his turn of holding the baby.

"She's looking at me!" Jack beamed when the newborn blinked herself awake. Maybe having a sister wasn't going to be too bad. And maybe Quinn was right, she was kind a cute.

"She likes me." He spoke too soon when Lola scrunched her little face and let out a very loud cry. The loud noise made the two older boys jump and Luke to have tears in his own eyes. Ellen was quick to take the baby back and comfort her.

"She doesn't like you. You made her cry." The eldest Hughes child crossed his arms, trying to show how displeased he was that Jack upset her.

"Quinn no. She's just a little hungry. See? She's already happier now." Their mother started to feed Lola with a bottle.

Jack couldn't help but feel bad because this was the fist but surely not the last time he was going to make his baby sister cry.

Age Guide: Quinn = 5, Jack= 3 , Luke = 1

#quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #lola hughes #hughes!sister au

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kunigmis · 6 months

Text

to strike again

bachira meguru x female!reader

synopsis: here’s to second times being the charm! after your messy “mishap” with bachira in a changing room at victoria’s secret, you’re a bit nervous around him… it’s only due time when you realize he’s a friend with a nasty little secret.

content warnings: minors do not interact! all characters are in their 20s, mentions of stalking(?) once, usage of the petname baby and pretty, name calling (he calls you slut), fingering, cum eating, oral (female!receiving), obsessive behavior, unprotected sex, non-con recording, hint at “sharing pussy” (he suggests isagi would like a turn), panty thief!bachira strikes again…

notes: this is a continuation of my previous bachira story, gross and grimy!! and a response to this anon <33 i’m sorry to say i didn’t end up writing it in the changing room, and that it’s in a different setting, but i hope it was still tasty… ૮ › ༝ ‹ ྀིა

AFTER YOU GOT DOWN and dirty with bachira in a changing room at victoria’s secret, you’d become a bit nervous around him. it’s not that you were upset with him or anything, no, you were guilty of not stopping him or pushing him away. so, you didn’t really have the right to be upset. you were just overwhelmed with the new emotions.

why did he have to go and do that? you were fine with the way the two of you were before! he was your friend, your best friend, and you’re sure you could’ve gone without knowing how his dick felt; all hard and hot inside—wait, that’s not the point! the point is, bachira meguru was your best friend. you didn’t want to cross that line with him.

well, it’s a bit too late for that now.

so, you went on and tried to act as if it didn’t happen; you tried to act as if he hadn’t seen your naked body, skin on full display; you tried to act as if he didn’t fuck you against the mirror in a victoria secret’s changing room; and, you really tried to act as if you didn’t want to do it again.

the thought plagued you. it was sickening how often you thought about it, and how often you got off to the thought of it: a hand tucked between your legs, fingers spreading your slick all over your pussy before thrusting a vibrator into your pussy. you arched at the feeling, full yet not full enough—not as full as bachira made you. you tried to imagine it was his dick and not a hot pink toy moving in and out of you, having your clit ache at the need for stimulation—oh, how would his mouth feel? would he suck your clit like he meant it? dip his tongue into your cunt and eat you out like he was starved? makeout with your pussy and shove two fingers into you and scissor you until you cried? fuck, you really needed to stop thinking so much.

you were sick and nasty, and wondered how you’d face him day after day. how did you do that before? did you talk with a smile and a light chuckle to your tone? did you stand a hands-length away or right on his arm? God! you couldn’t remember with how gooey your brain was at the thought of him.

you almost accomplished going on like nothing happened, too. you were going strong in keeping yourself calm, hands tucked neatly in your lap as you crossed your legs and sat across from bachira at lunch. doing that to keep yourself from getting the seat wet, right? bachira sat across from you, all smiles and laughs, joking about something isagi did during practice the other day. he was so info his own world that he didn’t even notice how just being near him had you feeling knots.

or so you thought.

“you look a little flushed, baby,” you jump at the petname, head whipping around to see if anyone heard, but freeze when thick fingers cup your jaw and give your cheeks a squeeze once you’re facing bachira. “i might get the wrong idea.”

fuck, he noticed. bachira had always been witty, maybe not too smart, but he was able to catch an emotion with just the look of an eye. he could read people better than he could books, he much preferred them over the assortment of words on paper. you happened to be one of his favorite reads, and he was reading you all too easily right now. you didn’t even notice him tilting his head until you were at a loss for air, “or is that what you want me to get?”

and, you don’t know what takes you over, but the look on bachira’s face is so smug and hot that it has your pussy crying to be filled and you letting out a moan rather carelessly for where you two are.

not a word is said after that, just the boundless chatter of the people at other tables. your head was hung by the time you finished your small display of arousal, not daring to look up and meet bachira’s eyes or the few that had heard your naughty noise. you’re so embarrassed you could cry, and you’re sure you will when in the safety of your home and warm bed.

“oh.” bachira’s voice is deep, has you clenching your legs together, and so strained you’re worried he’ll burst. “i definitely got it now.”

bachira had dragged you back to your apartment faster than he’d ever run on the field after that. you were stumbling behind him to his car, and you do it now when getting to your apartment. he doesn’t stop to ask for your keys, just peels up the “happy holidays!” sign hung from your door to snatch the spear key and hurriedly unlocks your door.

he’s ushering you in, quickly pocketing the key and locking the door behind the two of you. you’re about ready to muster up an apology, something to clear the air, when big hands are on your tits and groping harshly through your shirt.

you squeal at the sudden force and stumble into the wall behind you, hands coming to grip bachira’s wrists weakly. “h-hey—!”

“that was fucking sexy as hell,” his gravely tone shoots straight to your cunt as it’s spoken against your neck, a hot tongue meeting the point of your pulse before teeth come to scrape your skin fleetingly. you’re gasping into bachira’s hair as he sucks bruises into your flushed skin, glossy eyes watching as his fingers come and playfully unbutton your shirt.

he’s moving far too slow for the type of man he is, but you don’t dare to complain and show your neediness. you’re sure bachira is already aware of your desperation, with the slutty moan you let out at the table, and how your grip on his wrists loosens with each kiss and suckle he leaves.

“here i was thinking you’d gone and forgotten our little escapade,” if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve sworn bachira to be a lady killer; with his tongue like honey and words like sugared syrup, you’re sure he could have anyone he wanted. you’re surprised he brought it up, with how he’d acted just as you did, all dumb and like you two were just as chummy as before. he hadn’t mentioned anything about your hookup, but maybe that was because you hadn’t either. despite knowing how bachira was, it was too bad you didn’t know him to be a liar.

you go to speak, but find your tongue heavy in your mouth when bachira removes himself from your neck and begins a slow backward walk toward your couch. you pant, frown, and begin to follow him; he’s grinning with an inward chuckle, she really is like a puppy.

bachira lets himself fall when the back of his knees touch your couch cushions, bouncing with the force before he’s patting his lap. his fingers trace his thighs, silently teasing you. come sit, pretty, it’s your throne.

you’re swallowing whatever worries you had and clumsily shifting foot to foot, not daring to move until you’re given some other sort of sign. you’re not sure what it’ll be, but something just doesn’t feel right.

bachira smiles, a wide and wicked one, at your “predicament”, and holds a hand out for you to take. that’s the sign, you think, his fingers so long and eagerly curling in the manner of coaxing you. he seems to be taking his time getting you there, slowly, as if he’s toying with letting you believe he’ll do things as you’d like.

but, you can’t deny the ache between your legs. he’s just so pretty, eyes honeyed and looking at you so longingly, so sickeningly sweet, that you taste their honey on your tongue. you savor the taste.

even so, you’re hesitant, fingers twitching at your side before you’re wordlessly sliding them along the pads of bachira’s own. he’s delighted to see you give in, lips pursed in thought yet prepared for what he has to come. you’re nervous, he can tell, but you’re not pulling away.

“‘s too bad we had to take that one pair of panties back,” the black and yellow-haired male refers to the white ones from back then; the ones you had slid on in the changing room right before bachira and you made a mess of them. the employee who had gone to check the two of you out was madly red, and most likely disgusted at the indications of your events, and told you to leave before any purchases were made. you blush at the memory, “they were cute.”

you shudder when his other hand slides along the span of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt. drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you eagerly watch as his long fingers dip below the fabric and make their way toward your inner thigh. bachira watches with eyes all too wide and all too knowing, as if he was looking through you and into the depths of your deepest parts. you want me, they scream, and yours give away that you do.

“w-we can always go get a n-new pair…” you don’t know why you stutter, with him having done nothing yet, but you still feel your cunt pooling with wetness. maybe you’ll need to get a new pair of the ones you wear now, too.

bachira raises a brow and smirks, cocking his head to the side as he frees his hand from your grasp to curl it around your back. he draws circles overtop your shirt, right over the clasp of your bra, “oh? is that you insinuating you want a repeat of last time's events?” he’s partially coy in the way he sounds, but lets his tongue loll out to lick a stripe up your jaw.

you jolt at the feeling, hands coming to fist his shirt at the shoulders. you want it off him, but you don’t think he’s going to let you strip him before he does you, “n-no, that’s not what i meant…” yet, you wonder if it was? with the way you lower yourself to his thigh and shift for some friction, creating more of a mess within your panties, you think you may just want that.

“‘mm, you’re a bad liar, baby,” bachira practically moans when he has the clasp of your bra snapping below your shirt, fingers skilled and itching to cop a feel. you wouldn’t resist—even if you wanted to, even if you began to realize you couldn’t go back to being just friends now—you wouldn’t. “give in, know you want t’…”

and, god, you do. so, you do, you give and give and give, and bachira takes; he takes your breath with a single move, tongue slipping between your teeth to eagerly swallow your being. you moan, close your eyes, and claw at bachira’s shirt once more. you hope he gets the message; you want his skin on yours; you want to be unbearable close to the point you feel like you’ll burn at the proximity.

the two of you break only to have clothes fly, bachira’s bare chest pressed to yours. he relishes in the way your nipples pebble against his skin, moans at the feeling, and drags you against his groin feverishly. “you’re so pretty, can’t wait t’ fuck you again…” the male sounds so love drunk, so out of it with the way his words slur, but he couldn’t be any further from that. he’s plotting, waiting for you to turn to putty, before he strikes.

a hand travels to your chest, index finger and thumb toying with one of your nipples. you arch into his palm, feel the heat of it against your tit. it causes your brains to turn to goo as you go mad. “meguru, please, i-i need you…” you’re too embarrassed to say more, but you hope he takes your request as is.

and, bachira sure does, mouthing at your neck and collarbone before his teeth come and take your nipple into his mouth. he sucks hard, tongue coming to swivel around the bud in a teasing dance. your eyes droop and watch his mouth makeout with your tit, hands running over his shoulders like a fascination. bachira’s right hand comes to toy with your panties below your skirt once more, two thick fingers drawing tight circles overtop your clothed clit.

you wobble at the sudden pressure, hips humping into his hand as bachira continues his ministrations. his eyes roll at your soft skin, mouth not letting up as he slides your panties to the side and dips his fingers within the wet heap between your thighs. “fuck, s’ wet for me. s’ hot…”

before you can mumble a response, you’re lurching when two fingers quickly enter you. there’s no warning, just a stretch and sudden fullness. you have tears at your lashline, lips wobbling with soft gasps as bachira thrusts his fingers in and out of you, agonizingly slow. he scissors his fingers, curls them, and presses them into your gummy walls. he’s mapping you out, ticking each little cranny within your pussy so that he’d be able to go at it with his eyes closed. he’s having too much fun just toying with you, but you’re too choked up to ask for more.

“look at you! what a slut!” bachira moves from your tit for a second to laugh, teeth grazing your skin teasingly to watch you jump, “once wasn’t enough, huh? you want to be fucked dumb, don’t you?” you’re not sure whether he really wants a response or not; and, besides, you’re sure he’d do just that no matter your answer. “i’ll give it to you. i will, i will… just want to savor this…”

a sudden movement happens and you’re on your back, head resting against a pillow of your couch as bachira situates his face between your legs. you stutter, hands shakily reaching to try and push him away. “w-wait, no—“

you’re feeble attempts make the dual hair colored male laugh, and you feel pathetic under his gaze. his eyes eat away at your being; he’s eating whatever doubt or shame or strength you have left to resist him left, he’s not going to let you get away from this. bachira had waited far too long for your one-time fuck to be your two’s only fuck.

bachira is nosing at your panties by the time he has your hands resting on his head. your skirt sits between the feel of his hair and the palm of your hands, hiding his devious actions from your line of sight. you’re glad for that, because you’re not sure you’d be able to last long with the naughty actions he was about to commit.

your nails scratch at bachira’s head through your skirt, causing him to shudder along your skin. his hands come to quickly tug at your panties, skillfully sliding them from below your skirt and off your legs. this time, you catch him pocket the cloth, and suddenly your stomach twists at a small thought: why’d he do that?

there’s no room for you to collect yourself and ask, though, as bachira is licking a long strip up your pussy the second your panties are off. he does so again, moaning into your cunt at just the first taste of you; you’re fisting at your skirt, meat of your thighs pressing into the sides of bachira’s head. he’s met with a sudden rush of heat, moving a hand to palm himself as his slurps and kisses your pussy like he’s in love with it.

“aah, p-please,” whether you’re going to ask him to stop or for more is a long-lost thought when his tongue wiggles its way into your cunt, the feeling is strange and searingly hot. you tug at your skirt, revealing bachira’s flushed and out-of-it face. you didn’t expect him to be so into it, but he’s making you feel all sorts of things.

“s’ good,” his eyes roll when he smacks his lips against your pussy. he’s not afraid to get messy with how he eats you out. one hand tugging his pants and boxers down to palm at his dick, the other kneading the meat of your thigh. his tongue lays flat against you, licking long and slow over and over again, having you twitching. it’s so good, but your clit aches and pulses, wanting the stimulation bachira’s mouth gives your opening.

so, you softly press at his head, angling his nose to brush your clit softly. you whine, lips slick with spit as you call out, “h-here, too.”

bachira is quick to nose your clit again, tongue not relenting it’s assault on your lips below. your head is fuzzy and full of nothing, so heavy that you lay it to the side and your eyes droop; you still maintain your gaze on his face, though, and pant when he moves his hand to slide two fingers into you. “want you t’ cum, please. please, baby, cum.”

his fingers curl into all the right places, thick and long and bringing you to places so high you fear you’ll fall. with his mouth sucking at your clit, tongue lapping you like a dog, and his fingers delving into your pussy with such harsh thrusts, you’re crying out his name and spilling on to his fingers in minutes.

there’s an audible gasp from bachira once he takes his mouth from you, fingers easing you from your high before he pulls them out. he watches your cum push from your pussy, moving it around with his fingers before he’s sucking the digits clean. bachira moans as he does so, eyes never leaving your face, even after he’s done and dipping down to eat the cum that leaks out of you.

“stop! f-fuck,” you squirm at the overstimulation, thighs trying to press together in an attempt at bringing him off you. but, he only does so when he’s finished, coming up to hover over you with a chin covered in spit and cum.

“as good as i remember, pretty,” he’s grinning as he speaks, big hands smoothing over your sides as you smile softly. your eyes move down, widening when you spot bachira’s cock sticking tall against his stomach. he’s big. despite having fucked before, you didn’t get an actual look at it last time due to your position. but, fuck, that was in you? “stare as you’d like. it’s all yours, baby.”

all yours. if you weren’t blushing before, now you are. bachira had just admitted to being yours—or, admitted his dick was yours. either way, something about the statement had you shamelessly reaching a hand out to stroke his reddening tip. “…mine?” you meekly look up at him, batting your lashes as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. the male is panting, not at just your actions, but the way you look up at him. fuck, you really got to him.

“‘mm, ‘mm, all yours, yours,” his words are so airy and soft, voice tickling your ear when he comes to kiss it. “do what you want with it. what you want with me, pretty, i’m yours.”

there was something sweet about his words. the way he sounded might’ve helped, but the genuine emotion embedded in them had your eyes welling with tears. but, it almost felt like they were a binding spell of sorts. he spoke them, so sweet and softly, but they began to stick to your skin like an enchantment. i’m yours and you are mine.

a hand presses to the arm of the couch your head lays on, following it to the golden-eyed male above you. his eyes have this crazed look in them, one you recognized from when he’d play on the field. the look appeared when he’d sprint forward and snatch the ball after the whistle blew, he’d juggle and trick his way through his opponents without the ball even touching other cleats aside from his own, moving with him like it was teleporting across the field. it was a wild look that had slick pooling at your entrance before it gushed and made a mess, and bachira noticed it with a raise of his brow and a wicked grin.

“excited, huh?” he giggles and uses his other hand to angle his dick near your pussy. he tapped his fat tip against your clit a few times, grin only growing as he watched you jump and gasp with each pap, pap, pap, and practically purred deep within his chest. he ran it through your folds and gathered your slick, lubing himself up for a smooth entry. “me too, baby.”

in a fluid motion, he’s bottomed out into your pussy. his pelvis meets your clit and you mewl and throw your head back. your mouth hangs open in a long, silent moan as bachira begins a rhythm. he humps into your pussy, both hands now on your hips to bring you into him. you bounce with his thrusts, the slap of your ass and his balls like a melody of sin.

“fuck, missed this pussy,” bachira groans as his head falls forward to watch his dick pound into your gummy walls. your pussy flutters with his words, your stomach twisting and dancing in all sorts of emotional butterflies. you can’t decide if it’s the pleasure of his dick going in and out, or his admittance to missing your pussy that has you reacting in such a way. you assume it’s a mix of both, though. “y’take me so well, pretty.”

you cry when his thrusts speed up, pressing a hand to his abdomen to feel the clench of his abs. your nails draw across his skin, silly and sloppy little drawings, some are hearts, others are circles, and others are jumbled motions from the continuous bounce of your body. bachira’s nails dig into your hips, making a drawing of his own in the shape of crescent moons.

the pleasure is so good, bachira is so good, that you close your eyes as your head lolls back. you moan and mewl and pant as bachira keeps a steady rhythm, dick angled to hit the sweet spot deep within your pussy. it has you shaking, convulsing with pleasure as you taste your impending release on the tip of your tongue.

your hands move to steady yourself on the couch, bachira having begun to thrust into you with more vigor. you bounce more harshly, fear of falling from the couch beginning to weigh on your mind. you grasp the cushion below you and squeak when a hand pushes you into a higher arch, the angle now having you slightly bounce on his cock. your eyes cross below their lids and your lips wobble, the pleasure so good it’s brought you to tears. you cry out, bachira’s name slipping from your tongue so easily that it stirs your insides just right and causes you to realize your newfound infatuation for the male and his dick.

“s’good, fuck me s’good, pretty…” bachira slurs his words, eyes honed in on the bounce of your tits. his grin is still as wide as before, a heavy pool of saliva building in his mouth from the desire to feast on your being and your pleasure. you smile at his words and giggle a moan, thighs twitching as you begin to feel the metaphorical dam chip and patch away. “fuck, going to cum? yeah, cum, cum for me baby, want you to…”

his words have you cumming in waves and a loud moan, hands laid flat against bachira’s abdomen as he continues to thrust. his hips stutter and his cock twitches, it burns as it mushes your insides up. your pussy pulses and tingles, and you mumble a plea for him to stop, the overstimulation having your toes curl into the dips of his back. but, bachira moans and lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth to where his cock enters and exits you, thrusts so sloppy and short and sharp that his balls stick to your ass due to your release and sweat.

“baby, baby, fuck! cumming—! inside? inside, fuck yeah,” he’s talking to himself now, babbling in his fit of blinding pleasure as his cum spurts inside your pussy. you holt at the warmth and whine as he fucks his cum into you. you open blurry eyes to see bachira grinning like a madman, cheeks red and covered in sweat with his hair sticking to his forehead. you give a shaky smile and go to speak, but your words get swallowed right back down when you notice his phone pointed toward you with a light on. your stomach drops.

“fuck, you looked so hot baby. can’t wait to show this to isagi! bet he’d love a turn, yeah?”

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ ── nine #blue lock smut #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk #bachira meguru smut #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #bachira x reader #bachira smut #bachira strikes again!! harder and hotter than before :lipbite:

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