↳He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
A Hanzo x Reader where some guys try to hit on the reader and Hanzo gets all jealous and protective of them? I love your blog so so much and it's inspired me to try making one of my own, so thank you! :D
Hanzo is such a beautiful man fuck me dude Honestly, I got excited for this ask cause I live for protective Hanzo hc. Thank you so much for requesting it and for liking my blog!<3 I’m so sorry this took a while to post.
Send your requestshere. (Requests are currently closed as I’m getting through the ones I have.)
“I’m a bit surprised you
agreed to come out with me.” You sip from your cup, marveling at the cherry
blossoms Hanamura had to offer. He looks a bit taken back by the statement but
brushes it off quickly.
“And why is that?” He asks crossing his arms over his chest.
You turn to him, taking another sip of your tea. This time, however, it is loud
and more of a slurp. You giggle as you note a small twitch of irritation in his
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but your rather reserved.” You
titter while placing the cup down.
“It was how I was raised.” He points out, fingers reaching
for his own cup. “A tough habit to grow out of really.” He looks at you as he
drinks. A loud slurp emanating over the rim of the cup. You shake your head
laughing at his silliness. The sound of
your laugh shakes his bones while a warmth fills his stomach. His smile is full
of pride. There’s some sort of gratification from being the one to make you
“You’re really something, Hanzo.”
“I shall take that as a compliment.” He tips his cup in your
direction like a toast. You laugher dies down, a comfortable silence fills the air
around you. The smell of tea and sweets sweeps through the breeze, the small
shop buzzing with business inside.
“I was speaking with Genji the other day.” You speak calmly,
eyes trained on how the flowers sway with the wind. “I wanted to learn more
He frowns, a bit insulted. Why had you not come to him? He
would have gladly told you everything there was to know. The sights, the
sounds, and everything you could imagine to question.
“He told me about this arcade place not too far from here.”
You look at him, expectantly. He knows which one you speak of immediately. It
was a place where Genji often went to waste his time instead of working on his
duties. “I wondered if you wanted to go?”
Hanzo frowns. “Why did you not ask him to take you?” There’s
more malice in his voice than he meant. He did not mean to let his jealousy
spill. He clears his throat in an attempt to mask his slip up.
You, however, seem unfazed. “Because I want to go with you.”
Suddenly, he feels a bit childish.
“Ah,” He pauses, toying with the rim of his teacup. He finds
himself at a loss for words. Rummaging his head for something say. Should he
apologize? Should he simple ignore his sudden spite of words and continue.
You look him over, his face stoic but his eyes show his
internal struggle. “Something the matter?”
Hanzo shakes his head before giving you a small smile. “No,”
He tries his will at hiding his excitement. It’s a bit hard but he manages for
his sake. “I would like that. You wish to go today?”
You nod at him with a smile.
“Very well,” He moved to stand, grabbing his jacket while
doing so. “I will go pay for our meal. Then we can head over.” He sees the way
your face lights up, a smile pulling onto his lips much more prominently.
It takes him but a moment to reach the counter and pay for
the two of you. He thanks the cashier and waiter as he exits back to meet you
outside. However, what he sees before him has his boiling. There is a group of
three men surrounding you. The leader had moved to place his arms around you as
his friends stalk you like vultures. You laugh awkwardly as they continue to
pester you with questions and comments.
He takes a deep breath to compose himself. Something within
him festers but he moves to swallows his anger. He cannot- will not- stand still as these men pester at you with hungry looks
and wandering hands. In an instant, he is at your side. The grace of his
footsteps fall silent to their ears but his presence is loud enough to demand
their attention away from you. He takes your hand in his, intertwining his
fingers with yours effortlessly.
“My dearest,” The roughness of his facial hair prickles your
skin. “Forgive for taking long. There was a line to pay.”
You’re a bit baffled by his actions. Hanzo never having been
so forward and affectionate with you even during your back and forth flirtations.
That is when the reality of the what he is doing it hits you and you decide to
“Oh Babe, don’t worry these men were keeping me company
while I waited for you.” You motion over to the men with feigned smile. “See
fellas, I told you my boyfriend would be back.”
Hanzo looks over to the men with a look of malice clear in
his eyes. They are much larger than him in stature and in height. He, of
course, does not falter. His hand grips at your hip pulling you into him protectively.
His action causes you to be pulled away from one of the man’s intrusive arm and
into Hanzo’s embrace.
“Hah, this is your boyfriend?” One of the men pipes in,
looking Hanzo over rather unimpressed. Hanzo simply smiles. It is not gentle
nor sweet. It is not a smile he gives you when you joke and play around. It is full
of impatience and irritation as they all laugh at him.
“You find that funny?” Hanzo raises a brow, and the man
stops to stare at him. The stranger scoffs. He moves closer to the two of you.
Hanzo eyes him carefully, instinctively moving to unravel the hand on your hip.
He brings it in front of you, gently herding you to stand behind him and away
from the approaching offender.
“And if I do?” He asks while straightening his stance. You
almost laugh as the leader of the three men tries to make himself more
intimidating. His buddies do little but look a bit lost. “What are you going to
do about it?”
“Hanzo,” You place a hand on his shoulder as you notice a
crowd begin to form. “Let’s just go.”
He looks over his shoulder at as you shoot him a pleading
glance. A wave of wretch and regret flushing him as he sees the emotion on your
face. Has he taken this too far?
He nods, not sparing glance at the man before him as he
turns to walk away. “You really going to leave with this guy, baby?” The man
calls after you. “Come on now, I can show you a much better time.” For the
second time, the man reaches out to grab at you.
In an instant, Hanzo has him bent over backwards. The
strangers offending arm held at an odd and uncomfortable angle as he cries out
in pain. Hanzo leans in, looming over him with a dangerous aura. Though, the
crowd of people watching are a bit scared at the action, you can’t help but
notice how striking his features are.
He looks handsome as is, even gorgeous when he smiles.
However, now as his face is hardened, eyes trained with danger, something about
it fills the pit of your stomach with excitement.
Damn, he really is
“Leave us.” He pushes the man in front of him before letting
go of his arm. His friends jerk a few steps back trying to avoid being toppled.
The two accomplices go to assist their leader regain himself while nursing his
strained arm. He glares a them once last time before taking your hand in his
once more. “Come, let us go.”
You’re a bit shocked at the display that just occurred
before you. You follow not too far behind him as he guides you through the
crowds with ease.
“Hanzo.” You call to him, but he makes no notion to stop.
He’s walking much faster than you can keep up with. “Hanzo!”
The way he suddenly stops has you almost colliding into him.
You’re a bit out of breath by how fast he had been pulling
him along but give him a reassuring smile. His face looks a bit heartbroken by
the gesture and before you know it he pulls you along once more. It’s not long before
you’re in an alley between what looks like a ramen shop and an apartment
complex. The light of a vending machine illuminating the small space as the sun
begins to set. He pulls you to stand in front of him, his hand never leaving
yours as he begins to speak.
“Forgive me.” He starts, you cannot hear it but his heart
beats rapidly in his chest. “I could not control myself. The way those men looked at you, with such lingering
eyes.” He huffs, not realizing he is fuming. The light of his tattoo glowing while
he speaks. “He even grabbed at you! I should have done more than just twist his
arm. I should have broken it.”
You watch as he seethes to himself, his eyes everywhere but
you. Your hand is still in his as you raise it to lightly place a kiss on his
knuckles. Immediately, he stops. A blush forms on his cheeks as he finally
turns his attention to you very suddenly.
“Thank you, Hanzo.” You smile sweetly at him, his face warms
even more by the sight of it. “Come on, let’s go to the arcade.” You lead him out
of the alley, before motioning him to continue the rest of the way. He does so
silently. You walk a good block or so, still hand in hand, before you speak up
“Jealousy looks good on you, by the way. Your face does this thing that’s kinda attractive.” He scowls, you almost break into laughter when
you notice how it’s more of a pout.
“I was not jealous.” He quips back as you swing his and your
hand back and forth as you both walk together.
You giggle, his face flushing red at the compliment. “If you
Jasper Hale imagine requested by anon! “Could you do a jasper hale imagine where he is afraid that the reader will leave him because of his past and his scars? I absolutely love your writing and I hope you have an amazing day/night” Before I begin, I want to cement the fact that this is not body-negative or self-harm related in any way, shape, or form. Hope you like it!
It wasn’t uncommon for Jasper to fall silent for great lengths of time; he had always been a listener, from what you knew of his past and what he allowed you to see of his present. Quiet was comfortable for him, which was comfortable for you, and it didn’t raise any alarms in your mind to see him sitting in silence. There were days when his blood lust was heightened, and he found it far more strenuous an activity than he usually faced to keep himself from slaughtering the school. There were days the emotions festering within the cramped corridors of Forks High were high and steaming with hormonal intensity, days his mind was occupied by sorting through pools of highs and lows that swirled around his head as he passed through crowds of teenagers. Jasper held within his posture a perceptive, observant, intelligent sort of stillness, a quiet that masked his thoughts and kept him alert. Silence was not uncommon… but this bout of voicelessness had you concerned.
It was as if he were afraid to speak, afraid to say the wrong thing to you; his wordlessness seemed choking, restricting as opposed to chosen. His shoulders were tighter, his stance more rigid than his typical fluid movements encouraged. His brow was knitted more often than it was smooth, carving harsh lines of skepticism and anxiety into the satin-finish marble of his forehead. You found yourself wrought with worry for your relationship; typically, when a man goes silent, it heralds a jagged break and a pint of regret served frozen on the end of a ladle. His silence during Forks High’s lunch hour was noticed by the other occupants of your table; Alice, Edward, and Bella seemed most in tune to Jasper’s lack of speech, eyeballing your face when they thought you couldn’t see the concern behind their warm eyes. Alice, always determined to brighten the general mood, continuously left questions in Jasper’s hands, her lips pursing as she waited for an answer he refused to give to her. Jasper smiled and reacted non-verbally to the conversation as it fluttered from vampire to human, but his lips remained a thin, immobile line. By the time the lunch bell rang, the entirety of the table had given up on forcing his hand; Jasper rose, offered you his hand, and slowed his pace to match yours as you followed your friends out of the cafeteria. Bella’s hand found your shoulder as you bid each other farewell, your classes taking you in separate directions, her chocolate eyes projecting confidence despite the tension you had both witnessed, her gaze seeming to whisper everything is going to be fine. You could only hope she was right.
Jasper’s cold palm squeezed firmly against your own, his honeyed eyes scanning the cluster of students moving around you like ants on a picnic blanket, his brow furrowed in concentration. You soothed a circle into the backside of his palm with your thumb, relishing in the strange give and satin smoothness of his impossible skin, your eyes devouring every detail of his face. For once, it seemed, you were attempting to taste his emotions rather than him tasting for yours, though there was no doubt in your mind that Jasper had read your and everyone else’s tension around the table. By the darkness of his gaze, though the colour of his irises declared his thirst to be under control, you convinced yourself he was merely overwhelmed by the flow of the student body. It was harder for him to keep his composure than it was for the rest of his adopted family. Perhaps the last couple of days of distance had been due to the collective heartbeat of Forks High… perhaps it wasn’t your doing at all. You closed your eyes, your body leaning against Jasper’s side, replaying Bella’s unspoken message over against the blank expanse of your eyelids. Everything was going to be fine. You couldn’t afford to allow yourself to overthink, not with the man by your side able to sense every flickering shift in your emotional state. Jasper backed against the wall, pulling you a few steps back to join him, his eyes surveying the dwindling flow of students as they hustled to their classes, their arms overburdened with textbooks, their faces wary as they struggled to calculate how much longer they could postpone entry into Biology. Jasper’s lips were pursed with a foreign conviction, as if he were deciding on the route to take at a crossroads, weighing his chances as he stared down the bleak hallway. His eyes fell on your face, then, his gaze guarded, his expression shielded and unrecognizable.
“How badly do you want to sit through Physics today?” he inquired, his voice hardened by his steely exterior, though the lilt in his tone bled through the armour he had donned, forewarning of a far more sensitive nature. You shook your head, trying to read his clouded eyes as they left your face. If this hadn’t been the first sentence he had spoken to you that day, you may have felt like leaving with him. Unfortunately, the very concept rattled your bones, shaking your borrowed confidence to the core. Jasper’s eyes fell on your face, his brow pinching by an almost unnoticeable fraction as he noted the change in your emotions. You shifted then, correcting the collapse in your posture, an easy smile painting your features.
“If you’re asking me if I want to skip, the answer is yes,” you grinned, your eyes following the last lingering student as he spirited by, Jasper’s shoulders angling towards the exit at the end of the hall as soon as the student was out of eyesight. He tilted his head back toward the double doors, his hand around yours leading you away from the closing doors, classes beginning as your feet carried you towards the exit. He was stiffer than usual, at least when you were alone together, his posture as guarded as if the flock of teenagers were swarming around you still. How… very unlike him. He placed his hand on the lever, hesitating momentarily, his butterscotch eyes staring into yours with a liquid sort of honesty; his eyes were the last familiar feature on his so frigid face.
“I’ll take you home.” The bell rang shrilly, punctuating his formal statement, the chosen destination not lost on you. If he planned on taking you home, back to your very human neighborhood, he wasn’t planning on staying long. You swallowed the bile that rose in your throat, a cool wave of misted air roaring over your body as Jasper lead you through the rain, his hand almost unfeeling in your own. He walked a half-step ahead of you, guarding your vision of his face as he lead you towards what looked like Carlisle’s polished car, parked beside Edward’s shining silver Volvo. You couldn’t remember any of the Cullens driving the doctor’s car to school that day… but a sinking sensation in your stomach warned you that Jasper had premeditated your short-lived excursion. You shook your head quietly, aware of Jasper’s invasive gift, your hand slipping from his as you reached the passenger side. The vampire opened the door, ushering you inside the cabin before closing you inside the pristine interior of Carlisle’s borrowed vehicle. Seconds later, Jasper was by your side, turning the key in the ignition, his torso turning as he reversed, shoulders unhindered by even the thought of a seat belt. You buried your hands beneath your thighs, hoping to still the nervous agitation humming through the fragile bones of your fingers as Jasper drove along the route to your home. Normally, your car rides were filled with conversation; Jasper had a great many tales to spin, and you loved hearing them, intrigued by the concept of his so eventful immortality. Now was the time when you usually made plans for the evening, be it as simple as sitting in his bedroom toying with strands of stray curls where they fell against his temple or as complicated as a piggyback adventure through the forests, as far south as Mt. Rainier. Today, however, Jasper made no effort to fill the quiet, his eyes unnecessarily focused on the misty road ahead. Desperate to occupy the silence, you tried for conversation, your voice feeble in your own ears.
“What’s the occasion, Jaz? Any reason you’re pulling me from Ms. Fischer’s gripping lectures?” Jasper’s hands turned the wheel deftly, guiding Carlisle’s car into your parents’ driveway, parking close enough to the street that all hope of his staying evaporated from your mind. Your hands hesitated on the seat belt’s release, your heart hammering loudly in your chest, audible for the both of you. Without sparing you a glance, Jasper opened his door, his words floating in the space between you like a poisonous vapor.
“We need to talk.” Your body froze, your hands like ice on the seat belt’s lever, Jasper opening your door within the course of a second. You moved like stone, untangling yourself from the confines of the vehicle and joining Jasper in your driveway, his eyes refusing to meet your own. He walked forward to your front door, his movement blurred as he retrieved the spare key from the eaves and slipped it into the doorknob, standing by the entrance as you passed him by. He followed closely behind you, closing the door in his wake, as you headed for your bedroom. You stepped over the threshold, your pulse a staggering thump in your ears, your hands sliding almost lifelessly as you closed your door behind Jasper. You froze once more, your hand still plastered to the door, your breathing shallow as fear consumed your body. You could hardly keep your emotions in line, not after all the vampire had alluded to. His silence, the separate car, the age-old precursor to an ending relationship… the puzzle pieces were sliding easily into place. You cursed yourself internally for not realizing sooner. Jasper’s body hushed against your comforter, your mattress squeaking quietly under his weight, your eyes closing against the tears that welled along your waterline, your body anticipating the worst.
“Am I going to like this talk, Jaz?” you whispered, your voice a mere breath against the wood of your door. Jasper sighed, his voice soothing as he spoke; the warm winds of an oncoming summer storm.
“If you would join me, Y/n,” his offer turned your head, your eyes falling on Jasper’s outstretched hand. You moved slowly, calculatedly towards him, your palm sliding easily into his as you sat, barring yourself against the words you knew were coming. Jasper sat silently beside you, the rise and fall of his chest the only motion mobilizing the alabaster of his body. A handful of moments passed before he moved, bringing the backside of your hand to his lips, his eyes closing as he inhaled the scent of you, his kiss leaving a chill against your skin. He dropped your hand between you, his fingers untwining, all contact severed in an instant. Your breath lay baited in your lungs, your mind buzzing with preparations for heartbreak. When Jasper spoke, his voice was soft and carried the melting hardness of molten lead. His eyes stayed forward, dissecting the image reflecting back from the mirror on your wall. “Y/n, there are things you need to know about me, about my kind,” he began, your mind warping his words as he geared-up to break your heart. They never stay in one place for long, your conscience filled in, they never pursue something as fleeting as a relationship with a fragile little human. Jasper’s words, however, strayed far from the path you had anticipated. “There are things I haven’t told you about my… upbringing, things I purposely skimmed over because I knew it would mean…” his voice trailed off, your eyes falling on his face, his eyes closed to the world, his lips a hardened line. Whatever he was trying to say was clearly taking a toll on his composure. What you wouldn’t give to reach out and touch his shoulder. “I had a long life before I met Carlisle, before my sister came to retrieve me in that diner. There were things I did, Y/n,” he huffed, shaking his head, his blond curls shining dimly in the hazy light that streamed through your window. “I’m not… I’m afraid I’ve painted a picture of myself that hasn’t been entirely accurate, or entirely truthful, because the truth is that… I… I was a different person before I met the Cullens. I was…” he breathed again, his hand circling his wrist as if remembering chains, his fingertips toying with the material of his sleeve. “I have a history of violence. Unspeakable acts of violence, cruelty beyond measure.” You found your voice, then, interrupting Jasper’s assault on himself.
“I know you, Jasper. You’re a good person. I know your… lifestyle required, at some time, human life-” Jasper’s eyes locked on yours, his brow hinting at adoration, hiding a deep-rooted pain, the bitterness of which you could almost taste on the tip of your tongue. He chuckled grimly, more exhale than laughter, his head shaking.
“How quickly you’d forgive a few human lives lost. I’m afraid it’s… much more than that.” His fingers began rolling up his sleeve, exposing the flesh of his arm closest to you, the perfection of his marble skin drawing your attention. He cuffed the sleeve above the crease of his elbow, reaching forward to take your hand in his. Without speaking, he guided your fingertips along the curve of his wrist, watching your expression carefully as you encountered the strange texture. Before either of you could speak, he moved your hand a fraction higher on his arm, your hand following the raised crescent under his. Your lips parted in confusion as Jasper exposed his dozens of markings, his hand releasing yours at the crease of his elbow. Your eyes flashed to his, confusion painting your features. Jasper’s eyes were darkened by something bordering fear and concern. “Venom is the only substance that can scar our skin. When a vampire bites another, it leaves,” he traced a curving line on his forearm, twisting his skin beneath your touch as you followed his hand, “a mark almost impossible for humans to detect.” Your breath was expelled from your lungs as you began to understand.
“Jasper, what happened to you?” you cried, your hands trembling as you twisted his arm around, your eyes finding nearly imperceptible bite marks on his skin.
“Vampires have wars, just as humans do. I was… drafted, you could say, and I fought for decades. It was all I knew. I didn’t think that there was another way of life. I… followed orders, and I…” He smoothed your hand from his arm, his touch not insensitive, but reeking of severance. “For every mark on my skin, another vampire is dead. Someone who felt, someone who loved, someone with family. One, maybe three for every scar.” He watched you, cautiously, as you calculated the damages Jasper had dealt. “They’re not just on my arm. They’re all over my body. I’ve killed hundreds of vampires and countless humans. I just… I know you would think differently of me if my eyes were red. This… this is lasting proof of the… the violence and the blood lust… I’m not good. I couldn’t keep it from you any longer, I had to tell you because you don’t deserve-” you extended your hand, your palm cradling his face. Jasper hesitated for the briefest of moments, surprised by your touch, before leaning against your hand.
“You can’t say that,” you began, your voice trembling as your emotions caught in your throat, Jasper’s eyes wrenching closed. “How can you say you aren’t good? Jaz, you denied your natural food source to keep from hurting people. You feel guilt for what you’ve done, what someone made you do. These don’t define you, Jasper,” you whispered, smoothing over the dozens of crescent bites that littered his arms. “You’re as good as they come. Your eyes are evidence enough, but I know you.” His eyes remained closed, his face moving to turn away. You placed your hand against his far shoulder, turning him to face you. “Thank you for telling me, Jasper. It couldn’t have been easy.” He inhaled slowly, his lips parting over tentative words.
“Could you forgive me?” he whispered, his voice drenched with emotion, his brow pinching in fear. You smiled softly, your fingers toying with the neckline of his sweater.
“Everyone has a past, Jaz. There are things I’ve done that you don’t know about. There’s nothing to forgive. There’s no shame in preserving your life. Hell, if I was with you, I probably would’ve done the same if I saw someone sinking their teeth into the man I love.” Jasper grinned, ducking his head as it shook.
“What did I do to deserve you?” You smiled, your eyes open and honest on his, your fingers tucking a curl behind his ear, his eyes falling to your lips.
“You stayed alive long enough for me to fall in love with every part of you, good and bad.” You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his hands securing you to his chest, pulling you into his lap. “I should be asking you the same question-” his lips were on yours, fully and passionately, his joy a quiet taste on your tongue. You tangled your fingers in his hair, a hand falling to his neck, your fingertips encountering another scar near the edge of his jaw. You separated from him to press a tender kiss to the raised edge, Jasper’s hand smoothing over your hair. You brought your lips to his ear, your voice a whisper against his skin. “I’m not sure I can forgive you just yet for scaring me half to death, today.” Jasper pulled away from you, his brow knotted in confusion. “I thought you were breaking up with me. The quiet, the car, ‘we need to talk,’” Jasper’s eyes sparkled, his chest shaking as he laughed. “But no, you pull me out of Physics to try to convince me to leave you? And yet, the whole time, you’re… what, afraid I’d listen to your botched reasoning and leave you over a few battle scars? Unbelievable.” He shook his head, mumbling an apology atop a chuckle. You turned your face, haughtily denying his plea. “Give me one good reason why I should forgive you,” you demanded, watching the vampire’s golden eyes glow warmly as they met your own.
“I love you,” he said simply, his features erupting with joy as you dove back towards his lips. All was forgiven.
Request: jealous drunk shawn ? but fluffy n cuteEe
A/N: Ok, this is not fluffy n cute so I rly apologize. I just kinda took this idea and ran with it. But I promise something I’ll write something fluffy n cute soon. This might also be a two parter, so u might get fluffy n cute in the second part if i do it woo.
The smell of sweat and alcohol filled your nose with every breath. The beat of the music made your entire body vibrate, feeling your bones shake with the rhythm. The room was dark, barely making what was in front of you visible. You could just feel the bodies crowding around you as they drunkenly grinded against their partner.
Parties weren’t exactly your scene. Quite frankly, you could’ve gone all through college without going to one. Unfortunately, your best friend happened to be in one of the biggest frats on campus, meaning he practically forced you to every single one. You managed to keep to yourself, though, just staying in the corner and sipping on your drink.
Through the dimness of the room, you managed to spot your best friend. His mop of curly brown hair was sticking to his forehead and he was awkwardly swaying to the music, a clear sign he was wasted off his ass. He managed to catch your eye, quickly moving his hand in a signal telling you to come over. You shook your head no, watching Shawn’s face melt into a pout. You rolled your eyes at his child-like behavior before being interrupted from your thoughts. You felt someone tapping you on the shoulder, forcing your eyes away from Shawn.
The boy standing in front of you was undeniably attractive. He had sandy blonde hair that had clearly been styled earlier that night. Through the darkness, you could see his bright blue eyes staring down at you. He was much taller than you, forcing you to look up at him. His mouth moved, showing he was saying something to you, but his words were inaudible. You mouthed “I can’t hear you,” to him, making him lean down to your ear.
“I said you looked a little lonely over here. Thought you could use a friend,” He yelled into you ear so you could hear. His words were a little slurred, telling you he was probably drunk.
“Thank you for noticing. A little company isn’t a bad thing,” You answered, giving him a smile.
You and the stranger made comfortable conversation for a few minutes before you suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. The person’s head tilted, making a few strands of hair brush against your face before feeling his lips press against your cheek in a sloppy kiss. The person then let out a drunken giggle, immediately letting you know it was Shawn. You tilted your head to look up at your best friend, giving him a death glare.
“What are you doing?” You asked sternly, not happy about Shawn’s interruption.
“I didn’t want this guy stealing you away from me,” Shawn responded, clearly not caring that “this guy” was right in front of you. Your face contorted in confusion from his words, making you return your attention to the stranger once again.
“Excuse us,” You smiled politely before taking Shawn’s hand and leading him out the door. His heavy body lagged behind you.
Once you reached the outside of the house, the air was suddenly quiet. No one else was outside. It was just you two.
“What do you mean steal me away?” You asked as you turned to face him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glazed over. You knew now was not exactly the time to have this conversation, because he wouldn’t remember in the morning. You couldn’t help it. You had to know the answer.
“I don’t know I just don’t really like it when you talk to other boys and get all flirty because I-” His slurred voice began rambling before you interrupted him.
“Are you jealous?” You asked quickly.
“No, I’m Shawn,” Shawn laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, but your lips didn’t even budge into a smile.
You had to know the answer. You had to know if he actually had feelings for you. You had noticed the way he acted around you lately- touchy, clingy, even the way he spoke to you was different. But you didn’t feel the same way. He was your best friend. And had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t see him as anything but your best friend.
“I’m serious, Shawn. What’s been with you?” You asked. His laughter quickly stopped and his face suddenly got serious, as if he had suddenly sobered up. He shrugged his shoulders as he tried to come up with an answer.
“I just think you’re really pretty and nice to be around. I think about you a lot. A lot more than I used to. And when other boys start talking to you and flirting with you it makes me mad. I want to be the only one doing that,” He explained, his voice quieter but he still tripped over his words.
Your body felt like it had froze. The color drained from your face. You knew he wouldn’t remember this, but there was no way you could forget he was saying this. You couldn’t hurt your best friend like this, but you also could never feel the same way for him. Either way, you were going to damage your friendship.
“Do you like me?” Your voice suddenly became cracked and quiet, not really wanting to know the answer.
i love you (30) p: a gentle ‘i love you’ whispered into a soft kiss, followed by a stronger kiss
yoongi was a person that showed his emotions rather than talk about them. well, it depends on the situation and his mood. on most days, it’ll be recorded in a book he carries with him, sometimes keyed into his note application in his phone and on others, expressed out via actions because he’s a firm believer that action speaks louder than words.
there are many pros that comes with it but there are cons as well, like anything in life.
the good points are that you can trust he’ll make it a must to show you the things he feels. never ever would you take for granted his words because they mean as much as his actions - so the things he say weigh more considering he doesn’t use words as a catalyst to his affection.
the bad points… well… if you had to pinpoint one, it would be communication was key in a relationship. and while yoongi has been nothing but a great and honest boyfriend (regardless of the matter at hand, or who was right or wrong he stands by his principles), he lacked in portraying his emotions with words. of course, you love him nonetheless and you appreciate everything he’s done.
but from time to time, assurance with words meant everything.
yoongi wouldn’t be yoongi if he didn’t take notice.
so… with you in his arms, the whole classroom to the pair of you like your own galaxy of being together and no one else to interrupt the solace and clarity that has oh-so-generously bestowed upon your shoulders, he takes this moment to do… just that.
in the midst of listening to a song he’s produced not long ago, with some tweaks and correction he takes from you as you jot them mindlessly onto his notebook in case he’s up for your thoughts (which he always is unless he’s adamantly sure it’s perfect and he’ll just have to show you why later on), he gently removes the earbud from your ears.
mistaking that for not listening to him as if he said something, he only smiles at the way your mouth shapes a circle replicating a target he should kiss, to which he does because who could resist that? still, even after the small distraction, you shift on his lap, turning to the side to press your arm against his chest so your other could extend out to find leverage on the back of his chair. he blinks at you as you do so, does nothing, then does something to stop you from saying anything.
you’ve grown accustom to the way he frames your cheek with a hand, a clear access now that wires and headphones are out of the way. though confused, he adores the way your lips curl upwards like the rate of his heartbeat each time that happens. he gulps when you follow his palm that lures you in towards him, following the tipping of his chin to align your lips together.
but just before the shared vision in your mind becomes a reality, the whispered words that leaves his mouth shakes you to your bones. he makes it seem like he hadn’t said anything to make your heart leap out of your chest, resorting to push it down inside your ribcage in a safe space before it has a chance to escape with a kiss sealed on your lips. firmer than the first, delicate to replicate the things he makes you feel. it’s as if he’s taking your breath away but is the reason you breathe in the first place.
i comes through your hair, trailing up your neck before it echoes into your ears. love is endearing, threading past your heartstrings to hear them tremble in his touch. you is delightful, as yoongi thinks, feels, kisses and groans in pure bliss of being able to feel your heartbeat so close to his as if they’re two separate metronomes, reflecting each other in excitement of a love only you and yoongi knows of.
yoongi lets you draw back to catch your breath, because good god that was one hell of a kiss and yoongi sees that on your face. chuckling, he tucks strands of your hair from your face before his hands rest over your hips and yours, steadied on his shoulders with a smile that lifts his soul to the heavens.
Request: Can you do a scenario where “y/n” and t.o.p have had so much sexual tension and have had to keep it on lockdown and hide it from the rest of the group. But finally get a moment to unleash all the sex and aggression? A/N: Idk if this is the longest smut ever, but this is pretty damn long. I always imagined, and honestly believe, that TOP himself is aggressive or can be in the bedroom. He has attributes that he’s either said or I’ve noticed that lead me to believe that, so that’s how I’ve written him here. He’s aggressive and takes charge, and rips panties off with a look. Also, if you don’t need a metaphorical cigarette after reading this, I must have done something wrong. ENJOY!! Warnings: This is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. SMUT!SMUT!SMUT! So much smut. There is also some BDSM, Dominant and Submissive play hinted in here. So please, be careful while reading.
Disclaimer: As always, the gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owner! Genre: TOP x Reader Words:5276
Imagine Merlin cuddling up to you for warmth on a particularly cold and boring mission.
requested by: the trembling anon warnings: no spoilers for the golden circle. it is safe.
There were better ways to spend Autumn.
Here you were, wrapped up in coats and socks and scarves, sat in snow at the foot of a tree, Merlin at your side as you watched a building. Such good fun.
“Why do they have to be so damn poetic?”
“Well, when your CEO is taking over the world with children’s toys, dressing up as Father Christmas is probably the best way to keep up your image.” Merlin was right. This was the cleverest crazy person you’d ever had to take down.
But god damn, was it cold.
Merlin must’ve felt it too, because he let out a “Brr” and shuffled closer to you, as if to conserve heat.
“What are you doing?” you asked. Not that you didn’t want Merlin close to you, oh no, it was very much the opposite. You’d liked him far too much for far too long and him cozying up to you was not what your hormones needed if you were to keep your eye on this building.
“Keeping warm,” he shrugged, and pulled you closer to the point you were almost sat on his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder and his arms locked tight around you.
You could only pray he couldn’t feel the shaking in your bones that was no longer only from the cold.
Alas, you weren’t lucky enough to have your emotional shakes go unnoticed. “Are you alright?” Merlin asked, taking his eyes from the building to look you over. “You’re trembling.”
“Oh well done, Bagpipes. It’s negative degrees out here, of course I’m trembling.
“The smirking voice of Eggsy crackled through your earpiece. "Are you sure it’s just the cold, guys? Looks more like sexual tension to me-”
need to hold you (27) p: bringing up the hands to cup the other person’s face while kissing
ever since you met taehyung, you came by the water more than you usually would. apart from the cooling welcome of the waves that made space for you to enter, his arms of a safety net comes around you. your feet anticipates the soft surface of his tail, before allowing him to stable your weight but he always does it so effortlessly.
“been waiting for you,” he mumbles under his breath, gently guiding you backwards until you feel the surface of the rock greets your back. it doesn’t hurt, however. it’s… pleasant. a bit rough but when it’s been underwater since god knows when it’s not so bad with taehyung’s touch.
“yeah?” you muse, tilting your chin up to brush the tip of your noses together, making him groan.
he leans in and rather than seeing it, you feel it first. his breath hitting your lips as he exhales, the movement of his lips affecting the way the air enters your lungs; everything he does magnifies twice as much being in the same world as him - even if it’s just for a moment.
his lips press against yours just as your hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing them like how he puts pressure on your hips. you let him take the lead as he sets a slow, gentle pace. you can feel his smile, you can taste it on his tongue, you let it consume you and shake you to your bones as he hums with his every being of loving you and only you - you smile.
it grows bigger than your heart does when you feel his hands gliding up your sides to reach your face. icy cold dots turn into strokes before his palm warms up against your skin with his lips pressing harder to imprint his love on you. locked fingers by the nape of his neck, a metronome ticking on his skin as your nails trace the veins embedded within, he shudders. because every detail and movement you do, he realizes and he takes it into consideration to feel it all at once and it’s overwhelming.
but the good kind.
taehyung pulls back and grins at the sight of your blushing cheeks. he carefully strokes the under of your eyes and you open then, having not notice they were closed. you meet with his gaze and when your nose starts to paint a light shade of pink, he grows a little bit worried.
“are you cold?”
“…we should get you out,”
“you don’t look too happy about that,”
“i never look happy when you’re about to go far away from me,”
1. The way he leans towards you, into your, over you, chewing the inside of his lip and scrunching his eyebrows, and the way it makes you feel knowing that his intensified focus is directed towards you.
2. His legs, taking up all of the room on the plane, in the car, under the desk when you’re trying to find your way down between his legs and his knees keep knocking you in the side of the head as you giggle. But you never mind, you’ve always been small enough to compensate for his bigness.
3. You’ll never meet a man more confident in his beliefs, and yet still so open to those of others.
4. His voice, lulling you to sleep every evening and waking you up inside of a dream every morning. The first words that roll across his tongue in the mornings sound like thunder shaking the bones of your house, begging you to kiss the tiredness away.
5. His ability to allow himself to become open to vulnerability, and his understanding of the occasional necessity of this.
6. The way he feels and wants and loves bigger than anyone you have ever met. Every case he becomes emotionally attached to. Every family of a victim is given his personal phone number in case they need someone to talk about their loss. Every town he sleeps in becomes another home for him to reminisce when he is lonely.
7. The tea tin you find in the floor in between his bedside table and his bed frame. You pick it up, intending to put it in the drawer of his nightstand so it doesn’t get lost, but end up opening it out of curiosity when you hear shuffling inside as you lift it. Inside are tickets. Hundreds and hundreds of plane tickets. As you start shuffling through, you realize that if you looked, you’d be able to find matching ones just like them somewhere in your own apartment. All of the places you have been together, nestled safely in this tiny box.
8. His unfaltering trust and support. When you were a child, you had your sister. Even after two separate lifetimes of growing in opposite directions, you could still read each others minds. When you lost her, it took you nearly three months before you realized that you had him. He rarely understands at first, but, God, he never stops trying to.
9. His hands. Resting protectively on the small of your back. Holding your shoulders, so narrow that his fingers meet at your spine, as gently as you would hold an injured bird. Gripping the hair at the base of your neck. Pressing into, bruising even, the porcelain skin of your hips. Tracing the slope of your nose downwards, catching on your bottom lip, the tip of his thumb slipping into your mouth. Holding your hand in his, always and always and always and always.
10. The way he loves you back. Everything you give to him he takes and consumes and loves and he uses it and takes it and amplifies it and hands it right back to you. Everyday you wake up, unsure of where your job will take you next. But you are always safe, warm in the blanket of his love. You never knew how greatly you needed a safety net until he volunteered his mind and his heart and his body for yours. You wonder if God made his hands so big to better hold and protect your little heart.
Rating: M (mature themes, death, blood, sexual themes in the next chapter)
Status Ongoing, part 2 coming soon
Kim Taehyung has been your mortal enemy ever since you were fifteen. He wasn’t always such a monster, but he entered a downward spirl after death had started to surround him. He was a vampire - everyone already thought he was an evil being, so why not make their nightmares come true? Encountering you after you quit vampire hunting may have been his greatest stroke of luck yet - his one and only chance to end it all.
a/n: Because who doesn’t love evil, vampire Taehyung?
Blood stained lips glistened under the
ivory moonlight, nothing but wickedness gleaming in his wild eyes
that stared you down. Small flecks of red painted the corners of his
mouth, running a smooth path down his chin only to fall onto the
forest floor in fresh drops of crimson.
041. “you found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar.”
Everyone in the world, someway somehow, in whatever kind of form has a craving once in their life. Or multiple times if you’re one who delves into indulges more than you should and in this case, it’s you who at three in the morning got up with the sudden need to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Now, if you were to be in the confinement of your own home, it would be a piece of cake. Peanut butter on the first shelf to the right, jelly in the fridge, top shelf, bread on the counter and boom - craving solved.
But here… with Jimin’s arms banded around you and three stories above where the kitchen is in the place where said person grew up in, you’re having a bit of a trouble trying to satisfy your needs. It was a struggle to begin with in trying to peel his fingers off one by one from your body. Then it was a breath held in for thirty seconds as he rolls to the other side of the bed and you have never moved so fast in your life before to reach the door.
This is where the new level of how much is this really worth it comes to play.
It’s a what when you’re walking down the stairs quietly. It transitions to are when you find out where the kitchen is in the dark and when someone who is awake the same time you are, it’s one hell of an answer bundled up to question that asks you: “What are you doing?”
The gasp that escapes your lips can’t save the shattering of glass that meets the floor. You can’t process who it is until the pain stings your fingers and the similarity of color drips to what you’re trying to clean up. The maid is just as surprised as you, more so when she hears telltales of you crying as you whimper. What you can put together is the fact that she’s probably hasn’t deal with this in a long time, only sighing as she tries to calm you down before the waterworks start (when, in any rational person’s mind would be to clean up the cut, not the broken glass).
It’s all hush hush until the light flickers on and Jimin’s face is visible at the entrance of the kitchen. The maid gets the hint and proceeds to get a broom and mop while said person earlier maneuvers his way around the mess one and goes to mess two (you). Crouching down and gently taking your wrist, he pulls on it lightly until its in his line of sight to see what’s wrong. With a hum, he gets up and tells you to follow him to the sink.
He retrieves the first aid kit and sets it aside, using his feet to drag a stool nearby so you can sit on it as he puts your hand, tilting it to the side until it’s faced up for a quick rinse. The whole process of cleaning, disinfecting, and drying takes about two minutes because Jimin’s all about tender, love and care. Then it’s him telling you the worst is now over, swirling you around for your back to lean against the marble lining the sink as he puts a bandage over.
When it’s done, and the mess is cleaned up, Jimin looks ahead to the maid who asks: “Anything else, sir?”
With the shaking of his head, the two of you are now alone and Jimin offers you a small smile.
“Do I want to ask or do you want to tell me?”
“I didn’t ask for an apology,” He cuts you off, ever so gently that it strums on your heartstrings because he has a way of being stern, straightforward yet… in the way that just screams Jimin…
His smile grows when you gnaw in remorse because all you wanted was a god damned peanut butter and jelly sandwich but no, out of all times you had to screw up is when you’re in someone else’s home and oh, not just anyone but Park Jimin, who lives in a place that you can’t afford even if you sold both your buttcheeks and his parents who would’ve never seen their son get together with you who once lived in the house next door to where… where’s Jimin?
Your eyes widen at the realization that he’s gone until a plate reappears in front of you and your eyes trail to the owner who is… just that.
“This is what you wanted, right?”
He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry at how wide your eyes grow when you put together what he has put together and putting all of that together, together makes your heart swell and Jimin’s to combust as heart eyes shape at you from Jimin’s perspective of what beauty is.
“How did you - I just - Min…” His arms spread open when you put aside the plate of your cravings and allow him to engulf you with his embrace. He surrounds you with love and more as he kisses the crown of your head, relishing how tight you hug him back and the way your legs curl around his own to hook yourself on him.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay,” He whispers, volume pitching down to shake your bones and making you tremble when he pulls back to stare down to your eyes the same time you look up, pressing your chin to his abdomen.
“But next time just wake me up, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt like this,”
Nodding with your best ability, it cues the grumbles from your stomach and Jimin’s soft laughter before he retrieves the plate and hands it to you.
You curtsy back with a laugh before shaking your head. “What god awful thing did you do this time, Negan?”
“Ya know what, that fuckin’ hurts my fuckin’ feelin’s. Who the fuck says I did any-fuckin’-thing bad?”
“Beyond the shit-eating grin and bow?” He was too charming for his own good…for your own good as you grip the lapels of his jacket and let your lips brush his. “Give it up, big man, or I’ll have to get rough with ya.”
Negan’s pulls you up against his chest, his laugh shakes your bones, before his lips brand yours with a demanding kiss. When he pulls back you’re both breathless. “I got ya somethin’.”
“If you say your dick, I swear to god —” Another kiss stops you as he stuffs the gift into your hand. You break the kiss, look down in shock. “Oh my god!”
“Fuckin’ A,” he grins in pride. “Did fuckin’ good, didn’t I?”
You smile up at him. “Oh, you did very good.”
“Do I get fuckin’ prize?” He smirks, pressing into you.
“For this? Abso-fucking-lutely,” you grin, pressing back.
“Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” He cheers, before yanking the Twinkie from your hand. “This one’s mine,” he cheekily grins as he steps back, raising the treat high above your head to open it.
“Negan!” You scold, laughing as he stuffs it in his mouth.
“Fuck me hard, these’re fuckin’ amazin’,” Negan declares, eyes nearly rolling back, before smiling down at you. “The rest in the truck are all yours, beautiful.”
Requested by @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash for my 500 Followers celebration. Turned out cuter than I expected, but I couldn’t resist doing a bit of a throwback to my “Negan loves Twinkies” headcanon, lol! Hope you like it!!
Rating: PG-13 for idk cursing, drinking, that kinda stuff idk this isn’t too rough :)
Summary: You and Harry have been rivals for as long as you can both remember. Last week, the two of you fucked and you can’t get him out of your head. Now, the two of you are at the same, crazy party, and you just can’t seem to avoid each other. (Inspired by ‘Therapy’ by Khalid).
A/N: ‘Y/L/N’ stands for ‘your last name’ just for clarification.
“Something that you’re doing has me falling all the way”
Harry had been staring at you all night. He’d been staring at you since seventh fucking grade, actually. His staring had been what initiated your feud. He had been caught off guard by the pretty, smart, witty girl who sat three seats down from him in his seventh grade English class with the droning teacher. One day you’d caught him looking at you for what had felt like the billionth time, so you had leaned forward so the two of your eyes locked, unobstructed by the people sitting in desks between you. “Maybe you should take a picture, it would last a while longer,” you had questioned, the words had flown straight from your lips and bitten into him, he had recoiled as if he had been punched. The only way he could think to respond was more violently than he’d intended.
“Of you? In your dreams, YLN.”
He had spat the words with a tone much more harsh than the one you’d employed and he still remembered how you’d frowned slightly before making sure the teacher wasn’t paying attention before spitting out the words, “then fuck off, Holland.” Ever since, the two of you had a rivalry the entire school knew about, that neither of you made any effort to hide.
But then last week had happened. Last week with a club meeting that had ended up in a way so unexpected that you could barely convince yourself it had happened. But you knew it had, of course, as after it’d happened, Harry had grown only colder towards you, his comments carrying more of a sting than usual. You couldn’t tell if you were just extra sensitive, or if something had changed, or both.
You had been detected. You were now on their radar. You were recruited for one mission only. You’re trained and put to the test. With your background, everyone realizes it was a mistake recruiting a college student who would soon be faced with the thing that drove her to kill in the first place.
Warnings: major violence, blood, swearing
Word Count: 3,852
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen… I want to ruin you.”
“You’re too late.”
Flashback: Germany- 2 years ago.
Your head smacked against the torn-up mat for the hundredth time. You tried to cover your abdomen from the kicks you were receiving, but the other guy held your arms above your head and forced you to take them. You held your breath, sucking in your gut when you saw their foot coming.