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sixosix · 7 months

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(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno

iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily

“Hey, Alhaitham?”

He hums noncommittally.

You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.

“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”

“Hm.”

“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”

Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.

“Did you read it?”

“...No.”

Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”

You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”

“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”

“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”

“Haven’t we always been in one?”

“No, we have not?”

Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”

“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”

“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?

“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”

Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”

Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”

“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I thought—”

“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?

“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.

You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.

You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.

Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.

He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.

“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.

“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.

His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”

Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”

You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.

“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”

“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.

“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”

“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”

“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”

“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”

“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.

“Alhaitham.”

“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”

“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”

“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”

Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.

You are too weak. “So you like me.”

“I do.”

“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”

Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?

“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”

“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”

It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”

Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”

Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.

earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.

also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁

#alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic #genshin fic #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #alhaitham x y/n

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cometkenji · 23 days

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Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.”

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers.

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying.

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could.

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you.

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question.

Damn. Tough crowd.

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang.

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal.

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac.

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home.

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him.

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right.

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of�� “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him.

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action.

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest.

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?”

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop.

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing.

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here.

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said.

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently.

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him.

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped.

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital.

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it.

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you.

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #x reader #x chubby reader #x fat reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #fanfiction #suggestive #spencer reid x chubby reader #spencer reid x fat reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #comet: SR

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daenysx · 3 months

Note

Gentle Sirius x virgin reader who’s never told anyone she hasn’t done it before and tells Sirius right when they’re about to do the deed and Sirius is really nice about it and helps her ease into it? (Also maybe a moment when she’s uncomfortable with the pain when he enters? I usually see fics like this written a bit unrealistically with no initial pain or discomfort and I’m like “how?!😭”)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy ♡ requests are open!!

sirius black x fem!reader, nsfw

insatiable, little trouble

sirius loves the way you pull his hair.

your fingers are so gentle but also cruel, the feeling on his scalp makes his blood rush and he kisses you harder. you suck his bottom lip, his tongue brushes yours, and you pull yourself to lie back on bed.

sirius laughs at your poor attempts to catch your breath. "sorry, lovely. was it too much?"

you shake your head, smiling. "you're not really sorry."

"no, i'm not." he whispers on your cheek. "i love seeing you on my bed."

you clench your legs slightly, hearing sirius's voice so close to your ear does something to you. you press a kiss on his skin, his hair still between your fingers. he kisses your cheek and your jawline, he moves his lips on you until you get ticklish from the insistent kisses on your neck.

sirius is breathless this time. "yeah, maybe we should take a break, i'm not strong enough to continue." he laughs and stays still on you. he tries to make you smile, and you do, but it's a different smile than your usual ones.

"what?" he asks quietly. he brushes one last kiss on your cheekbone before he quirks an eyebrow at you. "tell me what you think, lovely."

your fingers are drawing circles on his neck, and you try to combine the words in your mind before you say them. it's so obvious in your actions, so clear that you want him. he'll make you say it though, you know that. sirius will always expect you to say what you want even though he understands, because he wants that comfort of words between you two.

"i was thinking- maybe we should continue, siri." you say.

"of course we can, baby." he says back. "what would you like to do?"

his voice is so gentle and sweet, you know he's not teasing. this is a first in your relationship and you feel ready enough to live this with him. he makes you feel brave, like you can get anything you want. he rubs your arm to make you focus on your thoughts, he's patient enough for both of you.

"do you want to have sex with me?" you ask, and it sounds ridiculous because he's literally hard against your leg right now.

"this is- no, i'm not kidding, the best question i've ever heard, and my answer is yes." he says, he is smiling. "but i want what you want. if you want, then yes. if you don't, then no."

"no, i just- i want you. i want to be closer, i want us to have this, but-"

"huh? what's the but, sweetheart?"

"i've never had sex before." you say, you know he will never ever tease you. "i guess i don't really know what to expect."

sirius kisses your upper lip. "it's okay not to know, we can discover what you like together."

"but i want to know what you like." you say, your eyes almost close with the contentment of sharing this with him.

"of course you can, we can just- learn it together, yeah? we've got lots of time, we don't have to rush."

"can we start now? it feels good, siri." you say, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"okay." he gets serious. "let's get rid of our clothes, and then i can get my pretty girl ready for me."

you are quick to take your shirt off, he helps you with your pants. he kisses your thighs and knees, throws his own shirt on the floor. he gets up for one moment to take his pants off, and then he's on your body, your naked skins touching each other.

sirius kisses your collarbones, your neck, and the soft curve of your breasts. you lift yourself to help him take your bra off. he seems happy to see you bare and you don't feel shy with him. he takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks it with closed eyes.

your fingers find their way back to his hair. he moves to your other nipple, kissing it first and then taking it in his hot mouth. you arch your back, he uses his other hand to squeeze your boob gently. he stands straight, fingers on your panties.

"can i take this off, lovely girl?" he asks, and you nod, lifting your hips to help him.

he kisses your belly and your panties join the other discarded clothes. his hands part your thighs, he brushes his lips on your cunt and you shiver. you squirm under his hands, and he looks at you. "oh, baby. i just gotta get you nice and wet for me, yeah?" he asks, and you nod. "can you tell me what you like?"

"maybe- maybe with your fingers- i can never reach too far myself but i like it when i'm touched a bit lower than that."

sirius nods, brings his fingers to your face to cup your cheek first. "you wanna get my fingers wet, darling? yeah? open your mouth for me."

you take two of his fingers in your mouth and suck slightly. he doesn't waste any time, but he tries anything to get you more in the mood. he presses a little on your tongue until he sees your throat clenching and then pulls his fingers back.

there's a wetness that started pooling down your cunt since his first kiss. he uses his fingers well, opens you up, and touches you softly. it's his middle finger first, just to make you get ready for the rest. he puts it inside slowly, you try to close your legs but he keeps them open with his other hand. he moves his finger a little, it's obvious on your face that you like what he's doing.

"another finger? i think we're doing a good job so far." he says, his voice slowly turns into his usual teasing.

he adds another finger and moves both of his fingers according to a pace that makes you stretch. the wetness is incredible, sirius touches the places you can never reach by yourself. you arch your back, the overwhelming hope of an orgasm makes you dizzy.

"you're doing so well for me, i knew you'd be my good girl." he says, following every reaction he can get from you.

you blush, smile with your eyes closed. your hips move involuntarily when he starts rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. you aren't surprised how quickly he found it, it's begging for attention under his fingers.

"you like it so much, don't you, baby? soaking my fingers when i call you my good girl, pulling me inside like that." he says, the pressure on your clit increases. "you're gonna ruin me."

you moan his name loudly when he presses his fingers there, the soft spot you've only managed to find once, that makes your legs shake. "here? okay, baby." he keeps rubbing there with long fingers. "can you tell me when you're close?"

you nod, closing your eyes when it gets impossible to resist. you move your hips against his hand, he's playing with you and he's perfect at doing it. "siri, can i come? so close- if you keep doing that."

sirius listens, bites his lip as he focuses. "you can come, baby. whenever you want."

you nod again, holding onto his free hand, and waiting for the bubble to snap. you can actually feel your muscles relax, your brain closes off, every thought that keeps you awake disappears. you can see his tattooed fingers moving between your legs and that does it.

you think it maybe lasts for a few minutes to come down from your high. you know it's because how much you trust sirius and how comfortable he makes you feel that he managed to make you come. it's not only physical, it's more. you can feel he's rubbing your thigh, he's kissing your knees. he pulls his hand when he thinks you're ready.

when you open your eyes and look at him, he's already watching you. "that was- wow." you manage to say.

sirius is undeniably proud and happy. "i was thinking the same thing, my angel. would you like to do that on my cock?"

you nod, hungry for more. his dirty words can get you anywhere, you like it so much when they come out of his mouth and directed at you. he gets rid of his boxers, his cock twitches against his belly.

"can i touch you?" you ask, finally get back at the world and sitting on bed.

"sure, my love. do you want me to show you how?"

"yes, please."

"fuck, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to eat you up with how sweet you're being. give me your hand."

you smile, give him your hand, and let him bring it to his cock. he curves your fingers to wrap them around himself, he is thicker than you expected, and lovely, you think. he pushes his hips against your hand just like you were doing before and you can feel him throbbing under your fingers.

"you know, siri, i'd hate to be weird." you begin, try to tease him like he does you. "but i just wanna kiss it silly right now."

sirius throws his head back and laughs loudly. "no worries, that was my first thought when i saw your sweet cunt."

your smile never fades with him, you bring your thumb to the tip of his cock and he holds your hand. "okay, pretty, i think that's enough now."

"why?" you ask, a little sad.

"i wanna be inside your cunt when i come, and i won't last if you keep touching me like that."

"mm-hmm, okay." you say. "should i just lay back?"

"you can stay anyway you like. you can be on top if you'll feel more comfy."

"i'm not sure if my legs are strong enough."

sirius kisses the back of your hand, giving you a beautiful smile. "i can be on top of you. hold onto me and remember to talk to me all the time, yeah?"

you lay back, the pillow is soft under your head. "i'll remember."

"good girl." he says, holding your thighs and angling your body. "that's what you are, my love, you are being so good for me."

he moves on his knees and you shiver slightly when the tip of his cock touches your cunt. you are still wet from early, and stretched. "i just need you to relax." he says. "the more you're relaxed the easier we'll do it."

"i'm relaxed." you say. "promise, i'm ready."

he nods, moving a little more to get closer. he uses his fingers to lead himself inside, he pushes in slowly. you move unconsciously, you are wet but it's more than his fingers and it's unusual for you.

he pushes a little more and you make a sound. sirius is cautious, he pulls back immediately. "did i hurt you? are you okay?"

you try for a smile. "no, it's just- a little uncomfortable right now."

"do you want to continue? we can stop."

"no, i don't want to stop, please." you say. "i can take it, siri, i want you."

sirius rubs your thigh. "i think it's normal, feeling uncomfortable at first. we'll go really slow, baby."

"okay." you say. "can you kiss me?"

he leans in a little more, kissing your lips. you hold onto his shoulders and he deepens the kiss, his hand rubbing your thigh to help you relax. he tries to be inside you again, really slow and careful.

you draw little circles on his shoulders with the tip of your fingers, trying to distract yourself from sudden pain. it's not too much, but you think the feeling is still weird. sirius kisses your chin, his hips moving towards yours to let you have all of him.

"are you okay, lovely thing?" he murmurs. "you're doing perfect for me, taking all of it."

he moves himself with a different angle and your legs shake. "sirius." you whimper. "right there."

he hits the same spot again. "yeah? it should be better now, sweetheart."

you try to lift yourself against him, just to feel his cock pressing there again. "it's better." you say. "it's-oh, it's perfect, siri."

he starts moving according to a certain pace now, hitting your sweet spot. you are stretched around him, still wet and getting wetter, the weird feeling is still there but you can definitely ignore it thanks to the pleasure you get.

"gonna take care of you so well." sirius says, kissing your neck. "make you feel so good."

you are a mess under him, and you love it. "yes, yes, please." you whimper his name. "oh, sirius!"

"fuck." he says, moving a little bit faster. "gonna come for me, pretty girl? gonna make a mess for me? i can feel it- you're almost there."

you nod, taking all of him inside you. it's a good feeling, being this close to him. sirius fills your senses so well, you never want to leave him. this is gonna be a new addiction and you can't help but thinking all the new things you can try with him, the thought of giving him the same kind of pleasure he gives you now makes you arch your back.

"i'm- so close, siri." you say, breathless.

"me too, baby." he says, sucking a spot on your collarbone. "now, be a good girl and come around me."

you are shaking under him as he starts rubbing your clit. the orgasm takes you, it's intense and everything you ever wanted with sirius. he holds you, you close your eyes. he kisses your shoulder, your neck. he keeps moving slowly to help you ride out your orgasm and you pull his hair slightly as you come down from your high.

you hold onto his hair a little harder to get his face closer to yours, and you kiss the skin under his ear. "come inside me." you say. "please, i want it."

sirius obeys, and it only takes one last movement for him to lose himself. he puts his head on your chest as he comes, sucking your nipple unconciously. he whispers your name, and he's sure he almost drifts off. it's a strong urge but you keep him with you, you stroke his hair and wrap your arms around him.

after he calms down, sirius lifts himself on bed to look at you properly. you smile at him, he thinks you look gorgeous. "did you like it?" he asks, giving you a smile back.

"did i like it?" you quirk an eyebrow. "i thought it was obvious, siri."

"say it again for me, love." he can beg you.

"i loved it so much." you say, reaching his face to cup his cheek. "i want to do it again."

sirius laughs. "are you gonna be an insatiable, little trouble for me? is that it?"

"you just created a monster."

he kisses your hand. "oh, yeah. my little monster, i want you close to me all the fucking time."

he gets clingier after sex, you realize. he keeps touching you more than usual and checks on your body. "are you hurting anywhere?" he asks.

you shake your head. "no, it was unusual at first but- i really liked it. didn't hurt too much, i'll be fine."

he nods, leans in to give you a kiss.

"can we have shower?" you ask.

"nope, i'm gonna fill the tub for my baby." he replies. "we should make sure you're comfortable and not hurting, i don't wanna rush cleaning you up."

you kiss him thank you. he kisses you on your forehead after that, he knows you'll probably be sore later. still, he's gonna make sure you're fine, he loves taking care of you. you kiss him until he has to leave to fill the tub, and he carries you to the bathroom. the rest of the evening is spent with sirius spoiling you, never letting you leave the blankets on the couch and filling your stomach with hot chocolate.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black smut #sirius black fic #sirius x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders smut #marauders fic #sirius black fluff #marauders era #marauders one shot #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius x fem!reader #sirius x you

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be-with-me-so-happily · 9 months

Text

il gran finale

ONE SHOT

Summary: As photography apprentice to Lloyd Wakefield, you have been around Harry quite a lot on tour, capturing all the mesmerizing moments on stage. But at the after party of the final show in Reggio Emilia, he seems to be the one zoned in on you.

AN: I don't know if this is any good. I haven't written smut in so long, but with Love On Tour coming to an end, I needed to do something!

Warnings: Some explicit language, alcohol consumption, mild exhibitionism kink, fingering, public unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it people)

You've always known Harry Styles is a gentleman. Even before you took on the role of apprentice photographer to Lloyd Wakefield, you only ever heard positive comments about the man, about how kind and caring he is. No one ever has a bad thing to say, and touring with him has only proven those things to be true. He is a sweet guy, just as everyone claims him to be.

That's his reputation. His public reputation.

But the way his enchanting and lustful green eyes have locked in on you for the past several minutes has made you think of nothing but the other reputation he has. The dream that you and thousands of his fans indulge in. The fantasy of him taking control of every single part of you, of using you, of pleasing you. Of giving you everything he has while you are under him, and on top of him, and in front of him, and…

You reset yourself as nearby laughter pulls you out of those delicious yet indelicate thoughts, ones you may need to draw upon later in the privacy of your hotel room.

It's bad enough that he has a flirtatious side. The subtle winks, the cheeky smiles, the wiggles of his eyebrows when a mildly indecent comment has been made. Usually by him. Both on and off stage, each of those gestures can easily get you flustered.

And it definitely doesn't make your job any easier, especially considering it's your assignment to watch him, to photograph him, to view him in a variety of different angles, none of which could be considered unflattering. He always looks good.

The outfit tonight, the shaggy silver get-up, showcasing his glistening pecs and chiseled abs, only added to the assortment of desires you only dwell upon alone at night. You're usually very composed, for the most part. You know how to play it cool.

But right now, as his stare exhibits something primal, you feel as if your entire body is on fire, and you can't help but be engulfed by the flames.

Clinking of the ice in your glass as you bring it to your lips alerts you to the fact that your drink has been fully consumed, and you decide to head to the bar for a refill. If not just for another drink, then for the moment of solidarity to gather yourself and bring some air back into your lungs. Because you are sure it's not the alcohol that's causing you to feel so dizzy.

"Hi, could I please hav-"

"Another margarita?" You hear in a deep, sultry, British voice sounding out from behind you. Right behind you.

"Yes please." You utter, almost inaudibly, to the bartender, the heat from before intensifying with each breath of Harry's that you feel on your neck.

"And I'll have two shots of Tequila, please sir." He states, so casually, as you stand frozen in place.

A cold breeze hits your skin as you see him move around and position himself to your left, leaving you to miss the warmth he was just providing.

"You look like you're having a good time." He states, as he brings his glass to his lips. You watch as the rim rests on them. You watch as the liquid slides between them. And you watch as a smirk pulls in the mischievous dimple that he is so well known for, unintentionally licking your own lips in the process.

"Sorry… what were you saying?" You ask, attention moving back to his gaze and finding those glistening green irises already locking in on your eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" He chuckles in response to your question, leaving your heart pounding with embarrassment.

"I am!" You exclaim, quicker than anticipated, clearly not playing it cool like you believe you usually do.

"Good." He replies simply.

"Are you?"

"I am." He nods, his eyes quickly flickering down your body, before switching their focus back to the bar, creating a warmth between your legs, and you try desperately not to squirm.

"Good." You reply, with a giggle, finally taking the sip of margarita that has unknowingly been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. "So we're both enjoying ourselves."

He chuckles along with you, shaking his head as he throws back his second shot. He swallows it harshly, drawing your eye to the way his Adam's apple bobs with the consumption of the liquor. You notice his body begin to turn towards you, and as you glaze up his neck to his gorgeous face, a lustful expression falls over it. His brows narrow, and deviancy sparks in his eyes, turning them to a deep, enticing emerald.

"Want to enjoy each other now?"

"Sure, that-" You begin to respond, but your eyes begin to travel down to his lips, noticing how his teeth dig into the bottom one. His look of determination makes you wonder if there's a more devious meaning behind it, and that thought alone causes an extreme yearning between your legs. "Wait… what do you mean?"

He leans against the bar, his tattoo-covered forearm resting on top, as the palm of his right hand gently slides over your hip and draws you closer with the mildest press of his fingertips against your dress.

"YN, I just had one of the best nights of my fucking life! I want to celebrate. Really celebrate."

"And… how-... umm… how do you want to really celebrate?" You chuckle nervously, every hair on your body standing straight, every nerve on high alert.

"I can show you. If you want me to." He utters, almost a whisper, barely audible in the jumble of conversations surrounding you, but loud enough that it sends the coldest shiver down your spine. He leans closer, his body following along until you are only inches apart. "And considering how tightly your thighs are clenched together right now… I think you do."

Your mouth instantly drops open, and if he wasn't actually correct, and those contracted muscles weren't holding you upright, your legs would have buckled beneath you.

"C'mon." He whispers, softly running two fingers down your arm and grabbing your hand, pulling your body to follow him.

"Harry, wait." You manage to get out, surprisingly, considering the daze he's just put you in. "This… is your party..."

"Yeah." He states, shrugging so casually as he turns back to look at you. "So?"

"We can't just leave!"

Harry stops his trek, along with your heart. He swivels around, the most salacious smirk wide across his face, and to your surprise, you manage to clench your core even tighter.

He leans down to your ear, his lip barely grazing the bottom, his breath steady but thick.

"Who said anything about leaving?"

An exhale releases all the air held in your lungs, leaving you unsure whether it is the margaritas or his suggestive statement that's making your head spin.

He turns back and maneuvers through the crowd of people that have come to congratulate and party with him. But he seems to be a man on a mission.

Through the dim lights and the loud thumps of the music filling the room, you somehow find yourself looking at a staircase leading up the the second floor of the venue.

"Just us?" You hear Harry ask the security staff member guarding the way.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." He responds with a quick nod.

Without hesitation, Harry leads you up, each step building the anxious anticipation inside of you. It's not even clear what may be waiting for you at the top, but if Harry's apparent determination is any indication, it won't be boring.

As you reach the landing, you do a quick scan of your surroundings, seeing a couple of purple velvet sofas pushed against the wall. He takes you further in, letting go of your hand and placing both of his large palms on the thick, black railing in front of him. You stand at his side, copying his stature, though feeling the sweat of your hands being transferred to the metal within them.

The neon flashing of lights is the only thing brightening the venue, as the music sounds and provides a rhythm for the rest of the attendees to move their bodies to. You feel Harry's closest arm glide its way across your back, settling itself on your opposite hip, and squeezing with enough firmness to tell you he wants to be gentle with you, but also wants not to be.

The rest of his figure moves along behind you, pulling you closer to him, as if your bodies had an unretractable magnetic connection. The warmth of his lips suddenly hits right below your ear, causing every muscle you have to practically melt under that simple touch.

"Harry…" You utter, unsure if you've been heard over the sound of the new song beginning to play. "People could see us…"

"Doubtful." He mumbles, his breath tickling down your neck. "No one's looking anyway."

Another kiss moistens your skin, and your head falls backwards to him, resting against his broad, strong shoulder, encouraging him to continue his tantalizing exploration.

He grazes your hips with his palms, running them up and down the tops of your thighs, letting out a heavy exhale when he stops at the hem of your dress. His fingertips tease the edge, sliding around to the front. One hand lifts up to your waist, while the other glides around to your inner thigh, and you could swear your panties are already soaked.

"Do you like this?" He whispers in your ear, and with the state of daze he currently has you in, all you can manage is a subtle nod. "Tell me. Do you like this?"

"Y-yes." You breathe out.

"Do you want more?" He asks in the lowest tone he's ever spoken in, barely needing to convince you that he'll give you whatever you want.

"Yes." You reply, anticipation thick in your stomach.

His fingers run up and under your dress, and you thank yourself for picking the shorter of your two options when you were getting ready for the party.

You attempt to push him back a few paces to the closest velvet sofa for some privacy, but he stands solid in place and you stretch your neck to get as good of a look at him as you can.

"Stay." He states simply, not a demand that you couldn't reject, but the way his tone hit your soul, you can't even imagine refusing him of almost anything he wanted.

Suddenly your body jumps, as you feel mild pressure slowly moving up the center of your panties.

"Soaked." Harry whispers. "Didn't realize I got you this wet, this fast."

His teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe, as his fingers snap the fabric of your underwear, causing you to let out the most pathetic and needy whimper.

"Harry… please." You whine, desperate for something, anything, that he is willing to give you.

"What do you want, YN?"

"Touch me." You reply, your legs already weak at the thought.

He listens, running his index along your center, feeling how slick he's made you. Suddenly, he dips it inside of you, and you worry he could make you cum right here and now. But god you want to feel so much more. You want him to give you so much more.

Slowly, his finger pulls out, but immediately glides back in, accompanied by another, pumping them both in unison, and sending your head into a spin.

"Do you want more?" He asks into your ear.

"Yes." You barely reply, hoping with all you have that he heard your response.

He adds one more finger, and the trio pick up their pace as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

"Oh my god." You whine, feeling a sensation ripple through your body. Nothing you've done to yourself, alone with just your thoughts of him, could ever compare to the feeling of what he's doing to you now.

In and out, his fingers pump, and you're sure if the music suddenly stopped, the noise of his motions would echo from wall to wall.

"You're so tight." He utters. "Don't know if you'd be able to handle my cock."

Just the mention of that word has you moaning, so you reach your arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, and you tilt your head towards him.

"I want that."

"You want what?" He asks, quickening his pace, and halting your words until you swallow the lump that's caught in your throat.

You look down, scanning the crowd for any prying eyes, only to find everyone distracted by their own activities below. Although, at this moment, you aren't sure if that matters to you. If that would stop you.

"I want your cock." You admit, using your free hand to push in between your two bodies and palm over his hard bulge, the feeling of his thick girth creating an even deeper yearning for it.

"Fuck." He growls, his cock twitching under the fabric of his pants.

The emptiness created as his fingers leave your body almost has you wishing you hadn't made any other request, but as you feel his waistband tug down, and the bare skin of his cock as it springs out from its confines and back into your hand, you get wetter than you've been in any moment before.

A strong thigh parts your legs, the back of your dress inches up, and as you feel his long, thick cock glide between them and coat itself in your wetness, Harry lets out a deep, rumbling growl. He runs one hand up your spine and pushes slightly on your back, getting you to bend over a bit and prop yourself up with your hands gripping the railing.

There's never been a desperation so intense as now, as you feel Harry's tip tease your entrance. You've never wanted anything more than the sensation of him pushing into you, stretching you out, giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.

"Think you can fit me inside there?" He asks, the smugness more enticing than you could have imagined possible. But his words, his touch, his everything is overwhelming and rendering you speechless. Then you hear Harry hum, as if knowing your inability to reply, and answering it for himself. "I think you can."

And just like that, he slips in. Slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size each time he pushes in a little further. Filling you completely with every inch he goes deeper, until all you feel is him. Until all you know is him.

"Oh my god." You moan out, unaware if it has been drowned out by the music and chatter of everyone else.

He quickens his pace slightly, and your hold on the railing tightens, not only to steady yourself, but also to possibly disguise your actual activities as simply enjoying the rhythm of the song.

"All these people… and no one knows what we're doing up here." Harry grunts as he thrusts into you, drawing out another, yet much heavier, moan from your chest. It's followed by a pleased groan from behind you, the sound almost as good as any song he's ever sung. "But I wouldn't care if they did… if they saw how well you're taking me… and if they heard much you love it."

"Harry…" You whine, as an extreme sensation builds in your core, feeling every nerve peek, alerting you to the fact that at any moment now, you'll be completely taken over by the intense amount of pleasure he's giving you. "I need to-"

"No." He states sternly.

"Please!" You beg, all dignity being tossed aside.

"Not yet." He replies, and all of a sudden, you feel hollow. Something is missing, and as you feel yourself clear out from the heightened state of a daze you've been in since you reached that second level of the venue, you realize his glorious cock is no longer inside of you.

"What-" You begin, stepping back and turning around to face him, finding his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, creating an even stronger desire to have him fill the gap again.

"I need to fuck you harder, and faster." He explains grabbing both hips as he backs up and lowers down to take a seat on the sofa. "And I need to watch you when you cum all over my cock."

A shallow breath makes its way out between your lips at his statement, and you slowly lower yourself to straddle his lap, feeling a throb inside yourself as you feel another underneath you.

Your hips begin to grind on him, hoping to create an impatience in him as strong as the one in you. You cup his cheeks within your palms and bring your lips to his, smiling against them as they part and release a deep moan. You move to kiss his jaw, letting the stubble tickle your skin and you make your way down his neck. His hands begin to roam your body, exploring more than they had been able to when standing at the railing. They grip your back, your waist, and settle at your hips, gripping just tight enough to guide them back and forth.

"All I've thought about tonight… is having you like this." You hear him utter, the words hitting deep into the pit of your stomach. "Hell, all I think about most nights is… fuck… is having you like this!"

You pull back, your eyes immediately locking in on his, as if your bodies are confessing their deepest desires to each other in a secret, seductive language. Without a word, you push up on your knees, hovering over and inviting him back inside of you, where you want him the most. One of his hands holds his cock steady as the other remains on you, helping you to lower back down onto him. In this position, you can feel him ever more, much to your surprise considering he filled you so well just moments ago.

"Then fuck me how you've been wanting to." You state, your focus still fully on him.

As soon as he's given that permission, both palms squeeze tighter to your body, pulling you down on his cock as if to meld your bodies together.

"Oh god." He exclaims, throwing his head backwards to rest on the sofa, dropping his mouth open as you begin to bounce.

Almost instantly, with the new depth he's hitting, you feel your body reignited and a release drawing near.

"Harry, this is…" You mumble, the pleasure hindering a complete coherent sentence. "It's… how…"

"Tell me, baby." He replies, holding you down as he starts to thrust up into you, leaving you unable to feel anything other than him.

"This is how… oh my-… I've been wanting you… to fuck me, too…"

"F-... fucks sake!" He exclaims, no longer holding back his vigor as he goes as fast and gets as deep as he possibly can, causing moans to burst out from both of you.

"Harr-... I'm gon-..." You whine, trying to plead with him to get you over the edge and fall into a pool of ecstasy. The sight of his hair becoming messy with sweat, the feel of his hands holding you down, the taste of his skin on your lips, the smell of his cologne exuding off his chest, the sound of his breathy moans in your ear. He has completely taken over all of your senses, and you know this is the best experience you've ever had.

"Say it, YN. Look at me and say it." He growls, and as your eyes find his, the amount of lust in his begins to push you off the ledge.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Where?"

"On your cock!" You blurt, the level of volume coinciding with the intensity of your desperation. "I'm gonna cum on your cock."

"Do it." He commands, and with his permission, you immediately let go, completely melting into him as that desired ecstasy rips through your entire body.

Your face falls into the crook of his neck, only leaving enough room to draw in some shallow, labored breaths. You can feel Harry squirm beneath you, his stride becoming less rhythmic with each stroke into you, his chest rising and falling in the same, unsteady way.

"YN… if I can't cum inside you, tell me now, 'cause I'm… fuck, I'm so close."

Your head lifts and pulls away, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, pupils blown and a glaze covering them. You lean down to his ear, letting your breath puff gently over his skin.

"Cum inside of me, Harry." You whisper, placing a kiss right below his ear.

"Y-yeah? You want my cum?" He fumbles, his breathing becoming more random with every sloppy thrust. "I'll give you… f-fucking all of it!"

Harry grips tighter, bouncing you on himself with a determination you aren't sure if you've ever seen before. He lets out a moan so gritty you know it originated deep in his chest. The sound alone could have you orgasming again if it drew out a few seconds longer. It's accompanied by one last thrust of his hips and a powerful, pleased throbbing of his cock, as his cum coats your walls.

If the dj wasn't blasting anything through the speakers, the sound of your synchronized, labored breaths would be enough to fill the room. You sit up straighter, still straddling Harry's lap, and you finally take in the mess of a man in front of you. His head still rests back on the sofa, his eyes now shut, and a blissful smile stretched across his face.

"That's one way to finish a tour." You chuckle, pushing your palms against the fabric of the shirt now sticking to the drizzle of sweat on his chest.

His palms shoot up to your face, holding it so gently, but with an untapped passion behind his eyes. They flicker to your lips and he dives in for a taste, running his tongue along to part them, and sighing as your own tongue dances along. A pop sounds out as you pull apart, with just enough room for an inhale of air, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"And cheers to the next one."

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thelargefrye · 10 months

Text

CARNAGE : HOW MONSTER!TEEZ FUCKS YOU … mature head canons

pairing : monster!ateez x f!reader

genre : monster au, mature, head canons

word count : 1k

warnings : language, mentions of cannibalism / human eating monsters

smut warnings : monster cock!ateez, unprotected sex, oral, sensory deprivation, breeding kink, marking (scratching), slight auralism, temperature play, double penetration, aphrodisiac pheromones, strength kink (i think i got everything!)

notes : inspired by @atiny-piratequeen and her ataraxia universe! sorry for always tagging you fie, probably will tag you one more time when i get the actual first chapter out

suffer with me tag : @sanjoongie also thank you for helping with deciding on what monster each member should be

how each monster!teez boys fucks you, as you have jointed down in your recent book on monsterfucking. please note that this is written as if you would find notes for a book or something!

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ GORGON!HONGJOONG

DO NOT MAKE DIRECT EYE CONTACT WITH HIM!! – make sure their blindfold or yours stays on at ALL TIMES.

mostly fucks like any other human

no out of the ordinary autonomy; however, he does benefit greatly from sensory deprivation from his blindfold he always wears.

switching up and wearing a blindfold inside also heightens the other partners pleasure.

gorgons are not heavy into breeding and seem to not have any exact mating ritual or time compared to other monsters.

be careful when pulling his hair – the snakes bite!

also beware of them when a gorgon gives oral, snakes will also nip at your thighs... feels like being pinched... more annoying than anything.

forked-tongue. feels amazing. snakes still pinch though...

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ KING GHIDORAH!SEONGHWA

not a dragon... but note he has several dragon-like qualities.

please note the hair color seonghwa has before proceeding with sex... they each have slightly different qualities but are generally the same overall

pink haired one is more lazy – you will do better at doing the work for the two of you.

black haired one feels the need to be in charge.

i think it's cause he is the middle head. does best performing oral and going rough.

blond haired one is the softer lover of the three.

eye contact is a must with him.

do NOT try to assert dominance over any of them! they do not like it!!

has a breeding kink it seems like it, but i don't think he will admit to it... will growl if teasing about being breed.

seonghwa is the largest monster in the book... standing at around 15,880 centimeters in his monster form and 365 centimeters in humanoid form.

cock is large, prepping yourself is key to taking him

only one of his kind... will find more about origins later on...

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ BANSHEE!YUNHO

banshees are moaners, very loud whether topping or bottoming

have sharp claws that will rip clothing

they will also leave marks on skin... does not hurt too bad unless gone feral.

like the gorgons, no out of the ordinary autonomy

however male banshees appear to be rarer and larger than female ones

yunho stands at around 213 centimeters... taller than hongjoong and any human... same height as mingi.

talks a lot during sex... will tell you what he wants to do and what he will do

voice is very soothing... helps you relax similar to wooyoung's pheromones

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ PHOENIX!YEOSANG

BEWARE! PHOENIX IS GUARDED BY A GUMIHO!

yeosang's body temperature is hotter than a normal humans.

temperature play seems to be a big thing... unsure if yeosang can control his body temp... will find out more about this later

will tease you and loves edging

phoenix performs well with his fingers and tongue... will have to do it again soon

has also displayed traits of breeding... however phoenixes do not breed normally

yeosang in his phoenix form is around 1,188 centimeters and his humanoid form is 274 centimeters

performing oral is the best way to make his submit

will be tag teamed with the gumiho – double penetration

special note: was gifted one of his feathers... reason unknown.

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ DULLAHAN!SAN

san stands at around 182 centimeters... around an average human male height

he removed his head to perform oral while his body fucked throat

deep-throating, will feel cock in your throat

will fuck on horseback... rather scary... would recommend trying it once

loves to grope... will grope every part of you if you let him

loves to be close when fucking... san is a very loving partner

dullahans are also very loyal?? now san kind of patrols around the area near the cottage... interesting.

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ FAERIE!MINGI

BEWARE!! FAERIES WILL ATTEMPT TO EAT YOU IF YOU LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!!

they love challenges so if you want to fuck one, make it a game

mingi says faeries vary in height and he is one of the more taller ones... some of them can be as small as 91 centimeters

rather unbelievable stamina and can go multiple rounds

mating press is the best position for mingi

have heard faeries have two cocks... will do more research on this

faeries also appear to have several mating rituals... make sure to not get mated to one! several fuck to mate and breed one person for life!

mingi has now decided to make camp in my living area... him and hongjoong get along quite well.

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ PLANT MONSTER!WOOYOUNG

BEWARE!! MOST PLANT MONSTERS ARE MAN-EATING!!

wooyoung's monster form stands at around 609 centimeter while his human-looking form stands at 172 centimeters... same height as hongjoong

will use his vines as restraints

will also use vines to to fuck you – they vary in thickness

also produces aphrodisiac pheromones to calm his partner

his vines also produce a sort of liquid when he comes... makes your body slick with it

wonder what it taste like... maybe next time

wooyoung has also started a garden near the cottage where i found him... little plants that look like his monster form... will investigate further into this.

special note: has a lovely green hue over his skin in some areas

ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ GUMIHO!JONGHO

BEWARE! THEY EAT HUMAN HEARTS AND LIVERS!

jongho's gumiho form is around 9,997 centimeters and 304 centimeters in his humanoid form

weakness to getting him to submit is to scratch behind his ears... very cute when submissive

likes to show off strength... be prepared to be moved around a lot in different positions

jongho is very protective of the phoenix, yeosang, will do anything to protect him... do not try to threaten the phoenix if you wish to keep your life!

special note: can seemingly materialize his tails at will... doesn't have more than two at a time unless trying to assert dominance.

will have to do more research on all of them again at a later date. will add new entries and notes as i gather more research.

tag list (bold is unable to tag) : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frogogh @marsanhwa @kryukyustar @sookacc @seongwin @melomatz @songmingisthighs @ad0rechuu

network : @cultofdionysusnet

#carnage.#cultofdionysusnet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez smut #poly ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez hea #ateez monster au #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut

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causenessus · 3 months

Text

Nightmares. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied at least for chuuya)

song recc: roslyn by bon iver

word count: 1064 words

summary: "how do they take care of you when you have a nightmare?"

sorry if they all seem the same D: i tried to make them all unique and i can see the difference between each character in how they would treat u but i know it's small i'm sorry they're all just such green flags and would be the sweetest <3

dazai

has had so many nightmares himself he knows just how to take care of you

having someone with him at night helped reduce the stress and the number of ones he has <3

you’ll wake up from a nightmare, crying out as you shoot up and he’s there for you from the very start, sitting up as well and shushing you, pulling you to his chest

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating as he drew your head near to his chest. “deep breaths, bella,” he encouraged softly, holding your face so that you were looking directly into his eyes while he gave you a gentle smile. he ran his hands through your hair, smoothing it out until your breathing calmed down

is super patient with you throughout the whole process, will not act sleepy in the slightest so that you don’t feel bad for waking him up or anything else

“ ‘m sorry I woke you,” your voice shook as you tried to take a deep breath, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

he took your hands off your face, using his own to brush away your tears with all the care in the world. “don’t be sorry, I was half awake anyway. take your time, love.”

he’ll offer to listen if you want to talk about it, but he understands if you’re not ready yet

tries to coax you back to sleep soon after because he wants you to rest

but he knows from experience how hard it can be when your mind is racing

the reason it’s helped him so much to sleep with someone though is bc it can take your mind off the dream <3

he’ll position you against his chest and between his legs while he rests against the headboard of the bed. he’ll intertwine his arms with yours, rubbing circles on your wrists while he hums softly to distract you

if you’re feeling sensitive to noise, he’ll place his hands over your ears instead, using his thumbs to rub the sides of your head

he’s there for whatever you need him to do. during your first nightmare with him, he’ll still be figuring out how you react to them. after that, he'll remember exactly what you need and want from him. he wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what <3

chuuya

wakes up first while you’re still tossing and turning in your dream

he’ll sit up and lean over, waking you as gently as he can. he’ll cup your face as you wake up, brushing anyway any tears with warm hands

“hey, hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. it’s just a bad dream. I’m right here. you’re safe,” he whispered softly as you woke up shaking, your breathing erratic

he kisses away the rest of your tears, touching you so gently and with so much love

asks if you want to talk about it and if you need anything else which he’ll be happy to get for you

afterward, he’ll pull you close to his chest, one hand on your head and the other around your waist, making you feel secure and protected

I think he’d be the type who would keep talking the whole time, distracting you from your thoughts. he’ll talk you through everything he’s doing, he’ll continue to comfort you, and will talk about any other random thing once you both have laid back down

probably tries to make some jokes a little bit before you head back to sleep as well to make you feel better

“sometimes, that stupid dazai shows up in my dreams and I just know it’s not a coincidence. there’s no way that scheming blockhead doesn’t have some mysterious way of communicating and entering people’s dreams. and he does it just to piss me off. ugh, just thinking about it makes me upset,” he ran a hand through his hair, smiling when you let out a small laugh, wiping away the last of your tears with the back of your hand.

he took your hand in his own and kissed it softly, “there’s my pretty girl. see? you’re safe, nothing bad is gonna happen.”

tecchou

does not wake up

you wake up from your nightmare, eyes bleary and heart racing. the only thing you want is to be in his arms so you wake him

once he sees your tears though he’s up immediately, hands on your face as he wipes them away, “oh angel, what’s wrong?”

you place your hand over his own, “just a nightmare…I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do.”

“nothing to be sorry about,” he says softly, a smile on his face as if you had said something funny, “that’s what I’m here for. I’m glad you woke me up.”

he suggests making a warm drink to calm you down if you’re up for it

in his experiences, he’s found it best to get up and change his surroundings in order to get his mind off a bad dream

if you say yes, he’ll make you something to drink before sitting next to you in the kitchen. he’ll be with you the whole time, telling you that he’s willing to listen if you want to talk about it or anything else if you don’t want to think about it

will have a hand on your thigh or back, rubbing it slowly to comfort you

when you both head back to bed, he’ll hold you close to him, one hand intertwined with yours to let you know he’s there while the other runs through your hair <3

if you don’t want to get up from the bed, that’s okay too, he’ll ask you what you want him to do and makes sure your every need is taken care of <3

kisses your forehead as you both lay back down, then draws patterns across your skin with one hand. the other one flat against your lower back to keep you pressed against him

if you’re still a little scared, he’ll continue to comfort you and reassure you that it’s okay. he’ll wipe away any more tears and stay awake the whole time. he tries to make sure he hears your breathing slow and that you’ve fallen back asleep before he closes his own eyes again to make sure that you get the rest you deserve <3

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya #tecchou x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader #suehiro tecchou #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons

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delulufortoji · 7 months

Text

HOW MANY TIMES? - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji x fem!reader

summary: you and toji have been together for over a year, but every time you say you love him, he never seems to be able to say it back…

word count: ~3k

content: 18+, modern au, established relationship, oral, overstim

notes: i was sick, tired, suffering from jjk brain rot, and it was like 1 in the morning when i wrote this so it might seem like some straight bullshit 😅 and this is like the first jjk fic i’ve ever written, so yeahhh

You still remember the night you two met, the memory ingrained clearly in your mind: it was a stormy afternoon, nature raging outside with branches scratching against your windows and leaves beating on the glass. The sky above darkened, the warm drizzle mixed with the humid breeze. Gray clouds drifted overhead, bringing a sudden chilling wind and shower with them, causing water to flow down the pathways and pool into puddles. The air itself carried an earthy scent, and the wilting leaves from the trees gracefully descended to join the wet ground. The soothing sound of rain trickling down the window added to the enchantment of the moment.

And then, there he was, behind your door, a strikingly toned and towering figure, utterly drenched, his hair clinging to his face, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, and a subtle, intriguing smile playing on his lips. “Hey, can I stay here for a couple of days until the storm blows over? I ain’t got anywhere else to go.” He asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You could feel your jaw drop, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of shyness and amazement. This man…he was undeniably handsome—his bold and quiet confidence, his voice, his charming smile, all of it made your heart throb. “S—Sure…” you muttered, “ you can stay here.”

“There’s no need to be shy,” he chuckled, “I’ll be gone and outta your hair in a couple of days.”

The blush in your cheeks deepened. “Yeah, okay,” you replied shyly, avoiding his icy gaze, “go sit by the heater to warm yourself up. I’ll go get you a towel so you can shower.”

“Alright, then.” The man said with a sly grin.

You don’t quite recall how, but somehow “warming up” took on a different meaning than intended: you soon found yourself entangled with him, your body sweating underneath his touch, his hips meeting yours in monstrous thrusts. The room resonated with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

“F—Fuck Toji…slow down…” you gasped amidst the pleasure.

“Shh,” he whispered, silencing you by plunging his digits into your mouth, “the only sound I wanna hear is the sound of your pussy purring.” Toji's pace intensified, his grip on your hips growing more possessive. You couldn't contain your ecstasy, climaxing as fire surged through your body. His thrusts grew erratic, and his breath quickened in tandem with your movements.

On a high of both pleasure and euphoria, you did as Toji said—you let your pussy talk for you, breathlessly blurting out: “I love you, Toji.

“...Heh, do ya really?” A response less than what you expected. But the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much for you to inject, to express your dissatisfaction at his answer.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Toji's presence became a permanent fixture in your life. He moved in, sharing the burdens of rent and groceries with a part-time job, allowing you to take more breaks. Yet, amidst this peaceful coexistence, there remained a lingering issue—those three words you so desperately wanted to hear repeated. Each time you uttered "I love you," Toji's response fell short, often met with laughter or a casual "Okay," leaving your heart yearning for the affirmation you craved.

You glance at him now from where you are: in the dimly lit room he sits, his eyes stuck on the dull glow of the phone in his hand. On instinct, you make your way over to Toji, settling into his lap, your fingers delicately toying with the fine ends of his hair.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he meets your gaze, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You offer no answer, instead, you continue to run your fingers through the strands, captivated by the finely sculpted features of the man before you: his features seem meticulously crafted, each detail carefully considered in the making of Toji’s face, from the angular lines of his cheekbones to the gentle slope of his chiseled jawline. His pale, pink lips curve perpetually in a sly smirk, and his dark eyes hold an untamed intensity that ensnares your attention. You can’t help but be enamored, can’t resist the urge to confess, "I love you."

Another light laugh escapes his lips. "I know."

A heavy silence envelops you, leaving you taken aback by his lackluster response. Toji, still engrossed in his phone, finally asks, "Is there a problem?”

You can't help but press further, frustration building. “How many times do I have to say it before you say it back?”

"Say what back?"

You scoff. "You know what I meant." A hint of frustration colors your tone as you shift in his lap, turning away from him.

Toji pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words. "Baby, you know how I feel about you," he eventually concedes, though it seems more like a half-hearted attempt to soothe your emotions.

He doesn’t mean to be disingenuous, doesn’t mean to hurt you with his lack of a response. You know him well enough to know he isn’t one to verbally express how he feels, nor is he one to blurt “I love you’s”, but part of you had hoped that would change after a year of being together.

A frown etches itself into your features as you stand up, turning to the door. "You don't mean that."

“Where are you going?" He calls after you, a slight layer of concern evident in his voice.

"To sleep."

Determined not to let you go, Toji follows you into the room, pulling you closer by your waist. “C’mon baby. You know I ain’t mean to make you mad.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he croons, resting his forehead on the nape of your neck, pressing light kisses to your skin. “My bad.” He turns you around so that you’re facing him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” You ask.

A slight smirk plays on Toji’s lips as he inches closer—by now, you two are stuck in an intimate proximity, his breath tickling your face. Just being this close to you is enough temptation for him to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss, his rough hands cradling your face. “Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, his warm breath mingling with yours.

His lips curve into a smile on yours as he presses you down onto the bed. Toji positions himself between your thighs, his lips never leaving yours, not even for a second. His touch ignites a passionate fire as he explores your body, his tongue tracing a scorching path from your lips, down your neck, and further, leaving you breathless with desire.

“Toji…keep going…” As your pleasure mounts, you can't help but moan his name, encouraging him further. His hands explore your inner thighs, spreading his warmth, his kisses become more insistent. His tongue moves lazily down your panties, the subtle friction from the stubble on his chin heightening the sensations. Your breath quickens, and your thighs quiver as he slowly slides his thumb over the moist fabric of your underwear before deftly moving it aside.

Toji's breath, hot and tantalizing, teases your sensitive flesh, his lips hovering mere inches from your core. His eyes, heavy with desire, meet yours for a fleeting moment, and a mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. "Still shy, even after all this time?" he teases, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "C'mon, girl, put it on me."

“Stop talking,” You say, dropping yourself down his face, wrapping your legs around his neck, “just make this quick.”

“I’ll make it anything but.” His response is a wicked promise in itself. You barely manage to hold back a whimper when Toji dives into his task, latching his mouth onto your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your pulsating walls.

“Toji…” you moan, gripping his hair, pushing his head further down.

You lose yourself to the sensation, clenching from the pace of his tongue. Your hips begin to move on sheer instinct, riding his face—your fingers are tangled up in his hair, your fists tugging on his soft locks. You’re grinding on him, your body craving every sensation, every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue, and twitching every time something grazes your folds—Toji is so damn ruthless with his tongue that it has you feeling high, like you’re on cloud nine. His every touch, no matter how brief, drives you to the brink, leaving you in a blissful state of disarray.

“To–Toji…more…” Toji’s nose-deep now, the tip of it rubbing against your sensitive clit. He brings his head up, taking a moment to breathe. He’s gasping for air, his face is slick with your essence. He swallows and then after a couple of seconds, he goes right back to sucking.

He’d almost forgotten how good you tasted—a few minutes was enough to get him hooked on you all over again, getting hard at the sound of your whines echoing through the room. His tongue is running laps like a track star, only gaining in speed with each moan you emit. Each gasp, each whimper only pushes him closer to the brink of his desire.

He needed more of your moans, more of your sweet taste, more of you—he had lost himself in his cravings, only desperate for you. His strong hands trace your inner thigh, savoring the taste as he lavishes your pussy with his saliva, worshiping your wetness with his mouth. He laps at your cunt like a starved man–like the taste of you is all the nutrition he needs.

“I’m—I’m gonna…” you gasp, but he ignores you and just keeps going, his tongue working your clit, just the way you like it. He let his eyes close in ecstasy, feeling you as your hips bucked up into his mouth, groaning at the sensation. “Toji, please…” you whimpered, your need reaching its peak. He’s still going, making you wait until he’s finished eating, until you’re a fucking mess—until you’re quivering, reduced to incoherent pleas just to come. After a couple more minutes of teasing you, of edging you, he finally grants you the release you crave. As he lifts his mouth from your pulsing core, you can only grip his hair tighter, gasping his name until you can finally come down from the intense high.

He slides his mouth up to your lips, his mouth smooth and buttery on yours—the sheer thought of tasting yourself on his tongue right after he had just eaten you out was disgusting, but you can’t be bothered when Toji feels this good.

He stares at you, a grin playing on his lips. “You forgive me now?” he asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head, huffing out the words: “Sh–shut up, Toji.”

He looks at you with a cocky smirk, his hair matted to his face, his breathing heavy, but his dark blue eyes, normally cold and distant, are now aflame with longing and desire—he said without words what he rarely admitted with him.

“Open wide.” He says, his voice a low, sultry rumble.

You take off your shirt and lie down on your back, legs spread out—you look so fucking hot for him, sprawled out like this, your pussy soaking wet and on full display. You’re an irresistible vision of his desire, every curve of your form a masterpiece in his eyes. God, he can almost feel himself stretching you out and you clenching, tightening around him, and he’s not even inside you yet.

He can’t bear to wait any longer, can’t bear to hold it in—he’s throbbing, desperate to plunge into you, to be buried deep within your warmth. He needs to be balls deep inside of you, right fucking now. Toji brings out his cock with a groan, and god, is he full and aching to be inside you—only you could ever get him this hard.

He pulls your hips closer to him, dick poised at your entrance. “C’mon girl,” he says with a slight grunt, a hint of impatience in his voice. That’s when he slowly begins his descent into you, inch by inch—he’s not even fully in, but his tip alone is enough to steal a small gasp from your lips.

You stare at him and whimper, feeling him as he forces himself deeper. He is so big—his thick, rigid shaft glides within your velvety folds, leaving you trembling and powerless to resist. You bite your lower lip to stifle your cries, completely lost in the waves of lust that crash over you. “To…Toji…” You’re already babbling as he buries himself balls deep into you. Toji’s hips slap against yours once—a single thrust already has you moaning, salivating at the sensation, arms wrapped around his neck.

With your hand pinned above your head, fingers interlocked with his, Toji rocks into you with an intensity that borders on primal. His forehead is nestled in the crook of your neck, his ragged and hot breath caressing your soft skin, his free hand claiming every inch of your skin as his own. He’s pistoning his hips with a purpose, stretching you open with each thrust, the physical sensation and the raw intimacy between you both like a potent drug. Toji focuses on the tight heat of your walls around his cock, the way your hips meet his rhythm, the delicious way you clench around him as his dick stretches your pussy out. It should be illegal how good you feel to him right now.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Toji murmurs in your ear, his voice a husky, sensuous melody that rings through the room. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

His words are so provocative, so disgusting, yet so fucking hot—they make you want to continue, to keep teasing him with the way you feel to the point where his cock is twitching, throbbing inside of your wet heat, to the point where he can’t thrust into you anymore.

“M-More.” Your whining intensified—his movements are becoming sloppier, his thrusts beginning to lose their pattern as he loses himself in the melody of your cries and the intoxicating sensations you provide. His tip is just attacking your sweet spot, stealing those beautiful noises out from your mouth. Toji can’t focus anymore, can’t maintain his rhythm—you’re just too damn loud for him to think about anything else but you: the way your lips part each time you moan, the way your nails dig into the muscles on his back, the way you writhe under him.

The pace of his hips quicken, the beautifully lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans filling the room. “Fuuuckkk—” Toji grunts. Just one round with you has him in disarray—his black strands are a mess, drenched with sweat, his ruffled hair obscuring his vision with how it fell over his eyes. But even in this fevered state, he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his relentless thrusts making your throbbing core scream for more.

“Toji…Toji…” His dick throbs each time his name falls from your beautiful lips in breathy cries, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. His lips find yours in fervent kisses, his navy blue eyes locked onto yours as his hips meet yours with increasing urgency.

He’s so damn rough with you, but he can’t help it, especially when you feel like a slice of heaven—he’s ruthlessly fucking you into the bed, grunts escaping his mouth every time he does so. You’re stuck in a passionate trance, each strike to your core, vigorous and accurate—fuck, it’s got your throbbing pussy yearning out for more.

“Goddamn, Toji—” You stammer, rendered incapable of finishing your sentence, shuddering with the hypnotizing movement of Toji’s hips, with the intoxicating feel of him inside of his body. His thick cock is being engulfed by your sheer warmth, each pulse only stretching you out more. “S–so good.”

Toji grumbles, and you whimper as his base repeatedly strikes you, his every thrust taking you deeper. You're lost in the heady pleasure, your core gripping him tightly, refusing to let go, making him push harder and faster.

The repeated sound of his skin slapping against yours becomes a relentless symphony of pleasure: slap, slap, slap. He’s losing himself even more, completely drunk off of you—he just can’t help himself. You’re like a drug. And fuck, did you look pretty beneath him, giving him the most spectacular view of your body. Tits on full display, your eyes rolling back each time he hits your sweet spot. He can’t help but breathe heavily when he looks down at you naked under him. Bites and hickeys cover your flawless skin, and shit, did the sight of those marks drive Toji wild.

Toji’s brows furrow together, and the pace of his hips begins to slow for a brief moment. He chuckles softly and brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. “Hey–I love ya. I really do. Our feelings are mutual.” It’s not the confession you were hoping for, but still, it was his own unique way of confirming what you had been longing to hear—his own way of confirming that he had never felt for anyone the way he felt for you.

With a contented sigh, he releases a thick load, and you feel it deep within you, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his passion. You laugh lightly and pull him closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your nails digging themselves deeper into Toji’s back. "F–faster, Toji... k–keep going..."

“So needy.” He obliges, pounding his cum deeper into you. He sighs gently, his lips curling up into a smile against the curve between your neck and shoulder. “Anything for ya, baby.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk smut #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #i wrote this at like 1 am #BUT ISTG TOJI IS FINE 🤤

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letarasstuff · 6 months

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Female Rage

(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.

Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.

Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not he’ll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)’s face.

Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasn’t always easy and especially since puberty started it’s becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.

“What’s with me today?” She asks him in an incredulous tone. “With me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshit”

(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.

“For real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I don’t know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.

“Our bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.

“And for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you weren’t able to attribute it to a woman?!

“But what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.

I don’t wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those “pick me” girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.

“The baseline is wanting to be different from the “typical girl”, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that I’m dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?

“Men apparently, because they don’t want a different girl. They don’t want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They don’t want to be confronted with problems. That’s why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.

“And this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I don’t talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. I’m talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.

“So where do men get their audacity?!”

Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.

Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.

“Uhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?” He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.

“TO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!”

(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.

“I apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. It’s nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. It’s not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.

“Nothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. It’s not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to “make sure you really mean it”.

“I can’t do anything right now that will satisfy you.

“But I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where it’s due and try to be the best feminist I can be.

But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?”

A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.

“Yes, I promise, I’ll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, I’ll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,” (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.

The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.

If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.

All works:

@venomsvl @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27 @bibissparkles

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

General Spencer Reid:

@mayoanddelight (sunny, you seriously need to tell me when you change your url, this list had such an old one in it)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid #x reader #criminal minds #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x female!reader

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crazysnor1ax · 2 months

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Unanswered things in Side Order

After finishing Side Order, unlocking all the dev diaries, and getting/seeing what I believe is all dialogue lines, I still have several lore questions that never got answered. Figured I’d put em in a post for folks to either answer or speculate about :3

Major main game and post-game spoilers below:

If Acht willingly got sanitized like promotional material confirmed years ago during Octo Expansion’s release, why does Acht suggest that they were forcefully sanitized? One of their early game quotes says that “someone or something there took [their] will away” and that they “were forced to DJ for it”. The way I interpret this is that Acht suggests they were unwillingly sanitized (their final dev diary also kind of suggests this, especially in the art), but it could also be implying that Acht’s sanitization isn’t what they expected it to be…? It could also just be a lore retcon which would suck but. Yknow.

How and why is Acht in the Memverse to begin with? We know that they weren’t there when Pearl, Marina and Eight tested out Dramatic Days in Orderland for the first time, so were they pulled in by Order? If so, how long ago? And how did Marina not know they were in there?

What’s Acht been up to in between Octo Expansion and Side Order? How long after Tartar was defeated did Acht break out of sanitization?

Relating to the above kinda, Acht says they heard a voice that snapped them out of sanitization. It’s later implied to be Pearl’s killer wail in Octo Expansion (Acht later says “I just get the feeling I’ve heard Pearl’s voice before somehow”), but the conversation where it’s first brought up (and Marina talks about developing the Memverse to help sanitized Octarians) Marina says, “…since we’re having this conversation, that means it must’ve worked!” to which Acht replies, “Huh. So that was you, was it?” I could 100% be misinterpreting this but which is it? If it wasn’t Pearl, whose specific voice was it and how did Acht hear it? Also did they regain their pre-sanitization memories back instantly or did they never lose them (I haven’t memorized exactly how sanitization works tho I know it’s explained in Haikara walker). My understanding was that Acht heard Pearl’s killer wail and it snapped them out of sanitization because it killed Tartar, but now I’m not sure.

When were each of Acht’s dev diaries/letters written? The first two seem like they were written before Side Order (implying Acht could’ve been in touch with Marina before they got pulled in), and the final one is definitely after.

How did Acht get to the surface, like their final letter mentions?

Are Order and Smollusk the exact same entity? I know they kind of are but why do they act so different? And why does defeating Order causes it to “transform” into Smollusk? Could it be that Smollusk was an AI originally coded into the Memverse but it got corrupted because of Marina and the octoling’s desire for order?

When was Order created in the Memverse dev timeline? How long had it existed prior to Pearl, Marina and Eight testing it out?

What in the ever-loving FUCK is Parallel Canon? I’m half-joking in saying that and I do like how vague it is, but is it Agent 4 or just using their soul or likeness? The fact that we get its mask does NOT bode well for 4 I think

Does. Does Marina force sanitized Octarians to go through the Spire and fight the Jelletons to get their will/memories back. Do they have to fight Overlorder at the end why are we traumatizing them more-

Why the hell did Pearl and Marina shit on 4 for no reason at the beginning of the game that was so uncalled for 😭

#I love side order but good Lord they left so many loose ends #speaklax #side order spoilers #splatoon 3 #pearl houzuki #marina ida #agent 8 splatoon #acht mizuta #dedf1sh #agent 4 splatoon #parallel canon #side order #order splatoon #Smollusk

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yan-lorkai · 26 days

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Was listening some horror stories while I finished some projects then got inspired by it and wrote this. Hope u guys like it <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere content, kidnapping, murder. Probably typos too.

"Nuh-uh, dad!" You looked at the book Lilia carried with him. He had read this book for you a thousand times and a pout formed on your lips, already thinking how you would have to bear this torture again.

There was nothing wrong with the stories, per say. But they get a little old and boring when you had heard them this many times. And Lilia was quite forgetful so asking him to buy other books wasn't always a successful endeavor. Though when you asked him to create a story he told you he wans't creative enough either. You aren't having any of that. You were tired of hearing about snow white, rapunzel, ugly duckling and all the classics. You wanted something new and today you would have it.

"Tell me another story, please!" You asked, making your best puppy eyes at him. Those eyes worked on Silver and Sebek, so you wanted to try on him as well. His reaction was different from the one you were expecting though, Lilia smiled and patted your head.

You loved having him read to you - it was your favorite activity to bond with your father, where you solved mysteries with him and laughed at silly pickup lines, but Lilia was still fond of the classics. There was though another book, called The General Tales. The author was unknown and the cover was painted a dark red, it was strange. And you hadn't the chance to read it because your father was very conscious about it, hiding when you so much as glanced in its direction.

You could only suppose it was a horror book. But you were already quite grown up. You were almost 13 years old! You could sit through any story he read without having nightmares! He didn't seem to agree.

"What am I going to do with you, little batty?" Lilia mused to himself when you showed the book. There was an excited glee in his eyes whenever he looked at it, as if it contained his favorite memories; little did you know what was written on those pages and how much blood they had seen. How much blood Lilia used to write those same pages.

He smiled finally. Dangerously, like he did when you pranked him and he was plotting his revenge.

You make space in your bed for him to sit beside you and he opened those secret pages you had always wondered about. They were yellowed by the time and some were dog eared, written in a beautiful yet hushed cursive. You were fascinated.

Lilia waited till you made yourself comfortable, laying your head against his chest and body nestled into his side, so he turned some pages, humming to himself. You could only think what kind of story would he read to you. You could only hope it was scary. It wans't night time yet and even if you got scared then surely at night, when he put you to bed, you would have already forgotten all the gorey details. Right...?

"There was a couple who lived happily at the woods," Lilia's deep voice started its tale and you closed your eyes to fully immerse yourself in your imaginnation as you listened to him. "but then a plague started to poison the soil and their crops were destroyed. The walk to the nearest village used to take a whole day to go and another to come back. The husband tried to hunt animals to feed his lover and their one year old child but he failed each and every time. Without other options he started traveling to this village."

"Wait, what about the plague?" You asked fulled with curiosity. Then you through to yourself why they didn't tried to make it go away somehow.

Either they tried and didn't worked. Or they didn't even thought about it. Nonetheless, you brushed it off as they don't having this knowledgment. But this bugged you for a second. Humans and faes knew about plagues and how to get rid of them, they been doing this since they were brought to existence.

Your question made Lilia smile cheerfully, you observed. He must be proud of you for asking this, as he had homeschooled you and used to brag about how smart you was to anyone who wanted to listen - he'd brag even if they didn't want to hear. "Ah, you see, they were bad people. The soil knew this and rejected them, my dear."

Well... Growing in Briar Valley you knew this was probable to happen. Fae were internally linked to their florests and woods, and rivers and oceans, and everything nature could touch. That was also why Lilia raised both you and your older brother, Silver, in the woods. He used to take both of you to fish, and swim and watch the dawn all the time. Though time changed and life got busier, maybe you ask him to take you fishing again someday. Or to go camping somewhere.

"Makes sense, what happened to them then?"

"The man bought everything he needed, every last golden coin spent. But he had food for months to come, he was already imagining what his wife would cook on the way back when an incident happened."

Lilia turned the page and you could see a little drawing of a man horse riding into the horizon. Then he started reading again after taking in your expressions.

"A stag came running at him, the horse didn't react at time and both animals collided. Wounded, the animal couldn't walk and neither could the man who had fallen and sprained his ankle. Snow was falling, surrounding him like a veil, all the food he brought with their remaining gains lost there. He thought to himself 'I'm going to die certainly', rejected he was once, rejected he was at that moment. Lost and in pain, feeling miserable, he tried to stand but failed. Every attempt more painful than the other. A river was falling from his eyes when he finally gave up."

Your heart ached at this. But you hoped for the better. Freezing and being left hungry during winter sounded like hell. Lilia pinched your cheek when he noticed you frowning. He laughed at the face you make at him, annoyed at your father's antics.

Lilia smiled. "Nope. Nope, instead he had heard a voice from the woods, a hooded figure was suddenly standing in front of him. He could only see the figure's blood red eyes."

"Oh no, did he die?"

You looked at your father. "Your eyes are red!"

Lilia nodded, his leg bouncing with how excited he was from reading this story. "Do you think the hooded figure was me?"

"Well, it was?" You replied with another ask. Your father didn't respond.

Instead he continued reading. "If I save you, what can you get me in return? The hooded figure asked, crouching to be on the man height. Their touch was tender as they wiped his tears and looked at him, but there was something in them that make him tremble more than snow could. There was something truly evil behind those eyes, something terrible behind that smile. The man didn't answer nor said anything for various minutes. Though for him, hours seemed to have passed. Maybe even years as he looked at those eyes."

"Nah, I didn't think it was you," You thought out loud. "Your eyes are very beautiful and gentle."

Returning your little compliment, Lilia squeezed you in a side hug while laughing. "Oh, thank you sugar. Your eyes are beautiful too."

"But they aren't red as yours." You pouted.

"You wanted them to be?" You nodded. Nor you or Silver have his red eyes. But you wish you had. His eyes were unique, were cute but also intimidating. So intimidating when he wanted them to be that you were imagining that the hooded figure had those same eyes.

You both stayed in that hug before you remind him to read again. There were fewer pages to go now. And again there was a drawing, this time you could see the man with that figure chatting while snow pilled beside them, as if the cold didn't bothered them. Then on another page he stood up and a carriage had appeared, he held the wet food in his arms, saving whatever it was possible to save. He would go back home to his family.

But at what price? It wans't written. The author had keeped too vague.

"When he arrived home, with a new horse and a carriage, which the hooded figure told him to sell for its quality was impressive and he would gain even more gold than he had spended, he was his child running at him, happy that their, uh, father had finally returned. The entire time though, the man could still feel the figure's eyes on him, could see those eyes in his mind. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, held his child and whirled around with them to they laughed. He watched them disappear back inside when they got too cold. And then he explained what had happened to his wife, she deserved to know."

He explained this incident with the stag, about the hooded figure and the deal he made with it. And very lowly he whispered how he wouldn't follow his part of the deal - and lying to a fae is something one must never do. Something he shouldn't have done. But he did. And that's the soil reject them even more.

Beneath the earth it was possible to feel the tremors or the wind that pushed everything out of its way. Lilia read how the man dealed with each and every tribulation, how he passed the trials and went his way around the deal, doind the bare minimum to ensure only his and his family safety. He only forgotten that the figure could see him.

"Then one night the hooded figure came to pay him a visit. It knocked on the door and it smiled when it saw the wife holding her child, looking at it with clear fear in her eyes. Like her husband, the wife was trembling in its presence. She let it enter, if anything because she couldn't send him away, she didn't know with what she was dealing, she couldn't act wrong and jeopardize her child safety. Instead she played the role of a welcoming hostess."

Lilia paused a second to breathe then he smiled as if he too was imagining what happened next. Pressed against him you were still. Were it going to kill everyone?

"Please, you may sit here. Do you want to eat something or perhaps are you thirsty? She asked. The air around them was tense. Though her child was poking the stranger without fear, filled with innocent curiosity. The figure picked the child and looked at their eyes. A carnivorous smiled streched on it's face. 'This will be not necessary' the figure said.'"

Another dramatic pause. It was so silent you could hear the birds flying from a considerate distance. It was so silent that you could focus on the blood flowing on your veins. You were anxious to know what happened next. And your father seemed to take fun on this, delaying his narrative to look at the drawing of the figure and the child. This one was colored and you noticed that the child looked just like you. Same hairstyle and same color eye, even same skin color.

You didn't know how to feel about it. You was thinking about what the figure would do to that child. Coming from a horror book you had only one guess. Lilia though didn't share your apprehension as he started narrating again.

"'Call your husband and let's eat. Together. No lies this time or this cutie will pay the price.' The figure warned her. But it know what was fated to happen. The couple were liars and no good persons. Of course they were going to lie. When everyone was seated to eat, the wife served first her guest then her husband then her child and finally herself; though the figure was still holding the child. The wife looked like she wanted to ask something but held her tongue."

Lilia licked his fingers and turned the page. Your heart breaked at the drawing. It seemed painful and explicit but you keeped yourself from looking away, you asked for him to read and you wanted to hear and see everything.

"'Open wide, little one.' The figure told the child, holding Its own spoon of soup to feed the baby. The mother seemed alarmed by it as if she had just done something stupid. And she did, poisoned the figure's spoon and plate, and food too. She held its hand and looked at it with pleading eyes. She fell to her knees, afraid for her child's life and security, stuttering and mumbling. 'please, don't.' she asked it. And a laughed escaped the hooded figure's lips, so sweet, so dangerous, he looked at the child who made grabby hands at the food. 'I said no lies yet you lied to me, tried to deceit me when I've been nothing if good for the both of you. And what did I asked in return? Say it, word by word, to her, mighty husband.' The wife looked at her husband."

"But it was so vague... Dad, what did it said?" At this your father patted your hair, twirling his fingers in your hair to distract you. He almost never replied to you in these moments, wanting you to draw your own conclusions. Still you wished he answered you on this matter. You were too curious and inquisitive.

"'I want you to restore the crops with this insecticide I'm giving you, I want you to make house for the birds and for you to clean the rivers when they thaw. And... And I want your first-born, f-for them to take your place, a-a life for a lif...' The husband answered, without finding his wife's eyes. Though he didn't looked at her, he knew how the color vanished from her face and how she was stunned into silence. He had never mentioned the part where the figure wanted their child, had he done that she would killed him herself. Her pregnancy was problematic and painful but she was so happy that her child was here now, she was delighted to her their little laugh and see them starting to walk and talk. And he stole all this from her."

You gripped your father's arm, you aren't expecting this betrayal. You expected the hooded figure to be the killer who would slaughter everyone and then dance upon their corpses. But there was something intimately sad knowing that someone so close as a father to his own child, could be a liar. You felt a bad taste on your tongue. Though part of you was excited to see where things were going now. Would be possible for this story to have a happily after all? Part of you didn't know but you hoped so.

"'You lied to me? About this?' The poor wife was inconsolable, struggling even to stand still as her whole face burned with ire. She knew nothing could be done. Maybe it was her own fear, maybe it was the figure's presence who seemed to feed into her negative feelings, the next second she threw herself on top of her husband punching and screaming at him. Her chair had fallen to the ground with her plate, food flying everywhere. The hooded figure sighed but tucked the child's face in his neck for them to not see this. The couple flighted like two angry kittens, disjointed, clumsy, without really knowing where to hit to hurt more. It was pitiful to watch. It hummed while the scene unfolded before its eyes. They fought and screamed but the figure still soothed the scared child who gripped its clothes hard. It prevent them from turning around, holding them tightly against it. 'Just a second, little one.' it told them."

A knife fell from the table when the husband managed to kick his wife off him. She hitted her back at the wooded table's leg but took the knife and looked at him with bloodthirsty eyes. She tried to stab him but he dodge and evaded every attack, he laughed at it. And she was feeling angry, so angry she'd die if she could kill him and then the entity who watched them in silence. "I hate you. You ruined everything. You couldn't even do a thing right!"

Her words were words of a frightened woman and, above all, a mom who knew she had lost her child. The precious child who bringed so much life and happiness into her life. You felt sad at this. They were both bad. The husband for making the deal and then not following it, and the wife for trying to poison the hooded figure without trying to ask what it wanted. You wonder if things would have ended differently if they didn't lie.

"The husband could only smile and roll his eyes at this. Nothing he could say was going to be enough, nothing he could say was going to comfort her or save them from their demise. The fight ended when he twisted her own arm and stabbed her with the knife, twisting. She fell on the ground painfully, blood painting the carpet. The last thing she saw was her child sleeping on that creature's arms."

You sniffled, trying to stifle your cry so not get attention of your father. But he was perceptive, always was. He could know what you were doing even if he wasn't in the same room you were. It was a dad instinct kinda of thing, you thought once.

Lilia patted your head, letting you feel what you were feeling without commenting on the small tears that rolled down your chest or tease you. He had told you and Silver multiple times to not be ashamed to cry or feel freely, to not repress your emotions. And you weren't ashamed by it. But you did thought you were overreacting a little. It was just a story after all!

"The now armed man swinged at the hooded figure, tears falling from his eyes the same way they have fallen weeks before. This time though he had an ever more serious reason to cry, he had killed his wife. He lost the one he loved it and it was all that hooded figure fault. Or so he said to himself, still lying. Fighting though was futile, his effort was futile, he was no match for the figure, so agile and fast, even if it was holding a sleepy baby on its arms, it still could fight with ease as if battle and fight were it's old friends. It killed the man easily, with a swing of it's hands and a little magic, the man joined his wife in the afterlife where she would want him down eternally."

You jumped a little when he closed the book, looking at him in disbelief. The tears had dried on your eyes but they were still a little red from crying. "That's how it ends?"

Lilia nodded then added. "Though there's still a line. It goes like: the entity looked at the child affectionately, it had what it wanted, it had the child. The hooded figure finally lowered the hood from its face, revealing its young and yet deceitful appearance. It was a he and he looked at the child gently. 'I'm going to call you Yuu. Fufufu, how does that sound, Yuu?'"

You whined in surprise. It was your name! You liked to think that your name was unique and no one else had it, just so you could feel a little special, but at that moment you didn't know how you felt. There were so many plot twists in that story, your mind seemed to run a marathon by how hard you were thinking about everything. Only thing you could muster was. "They were dumbing, lying to a fae."

Though you wonder... Why there was a drawing of a child so similar to you and that also has your name? You searched for you father's eyes and found him him staring at you. But he wasn't staring how he used to stare, it was mischievous, evil. Dangerous. You found out that you couldn't move, paralyzed in fear while his eyes searched for something inside your soul. Whatever it was he seemed happy, his gaze softening as the minutes passed, his headpats returning slowly.

"How does tea sounds, little one?" He asked. It sounded like death coming from him, Lilia managed to even burn the water. You mumbled something, too busy thinking about the story to care that you were about to be poisoned by Lilia's tea. There was many puzzle pieces missing for you to complete the entire frame.

Maybe someday, Lilia thought with a smug smile.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x yuu #yandere lilia x mc #yandere lilia x reader #lilia x mc #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #tw yandere #platonic yandere #male yandere #gender neutral reader #lorkai oneshot

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dropsofletters · 28 days

Text

i feel like i know you [jww]

SUMMARY: sometimes, we meet a person, a complete stranger in the streets, and we feel as though we have seen them somewhere else. a sense of familiarity that comes with longing and extreme love. however, it could only be one of those cases of deja-vu…if one does not think that there are other universes, roaming around its axis at the same time that we do.

jeon wonwoo doesn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, but somehow, he always has the same one in various universes.

maybe, destiny does exist.

TITLE: i feel like i know you

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader

GENRE: soulmates!au ; soulmates in different universes!au ; friends to lovers!au ; unrequited love!au ; forbidden love!au ; childhood friends!au and wonwoo finding his way back to oc again and again.

WORD COUNT: 8,000 words approx.

TYPE: fluffy fluff ; fantasy ; alternative universes ; angst if you squint

NOTE: this was a ko-fi request! you can go over there if you want to request something from me.

UNIVERSE 01: friendship.

A pendant sits on the palm of her hand.

It dangles in between his fingertips; tips colored by Kool-Aid, burning red. The music is a little too loud in the cramped room, where the strands of his bleached hair merge in between the black, original ones. Wonwoo sits neatly, though his image is copied out of one of those magazines that he reads over every once in a while when at his job at the mall.

Maybe, this is where her friend met the supposed old lady that taught him the future was written in one’s palm. He’s a man of science, though he masks it as not. Books and articles highlighted on his bookshelves, casted in dust as he reaches his twenty-five years of age and he realizes that, perhaps, in the midst and wits of time he never truly reached what he wanted. No scholarship. No travelling. Nothing other than sitting at his small apartment, dangling a necklace, hoping for a sign.

“What do you want to know?” Wonwoo always speaks like he has a secret, eyes squinted, voice a rumble of depth. His vision, however, is settled on the pendant that only moves the slightest, from side to side, venturing into the unknown of what it is supposed to tell her.

Life, on the other hand, is a little bit more secure for her. She didn’t imagine her life to be big, and hence, settling seemed nice. Three years into a relationship that started out in college; a college degree that also sits on her bookshelf, waiting for it to mean something than it actually is, and work. Work has been hectic, with coffee breaks towards the coffee shop in which Wonwoo works at with a scowl to his face and a purse of his lips.

“The unknown.” She jokes, hand trembling a bit as Wonwoo rests it on his thigh.

His eyes roll, the sclerotic becoming a bit apparent, before he returns his gaze to her. For Wonwoo, the world is serious; like the heat of the Americano she has each day, and the routine of making perfect coffee. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” She looks back at Wonwoo. This is the man that would nod at every single one of her words when battling her fear of speaking in public back in high school. Her friend. The reason as to why she gets to speak now in her corporate job for some fashion magazine. She knows him far too well, dances with his eyes and knows how to sit him down with simple syllables. “You don’t believe in any of this.”

“I’d like to grant myself the benefit of doubting my beliefs.” He explains. The nineties are far more technological, fitted for someone like him, with up-and-coming laptops and websites. He could have been so much more, but it feels these days like he’s losing himself to a trail of nothingness. “They haven’t exactly worked to my favor the past few years, so what do I lose by giving you an answer to something? Shit, maybe, I could get an answer, too.”

She grabs his hand, pendant digging to the skin of her palm, engraving the thunder that Wonwoo had bought on a convenience store nearby. It was probably on sale, too. “You don’t need answers, Wonwoo. What’s not lost should not be hunted down.”

His eyes soften. Mirrors in shades of brown, like a lake house that she could never escape. Here, listening to Backstreet Boys, trying to hide from the reality that they are not kids anymore, is the man she trusts the most. The one person she cherishes more than life itself. For, Wonwoo was there for her to lighten up her days, even when the exposure of sunshine would hurt him, too.

“…Let me just answer one question of yours.”

“What for, though—?”

“Just to prove to myself that I’m not the only one that doesn’t have it figured out.”

She sighs, opening her palm once again and closing her eyes tightly. She imagines all that has happened throughout the years of her living on this earth. She has a job that she likes. She has gone through college safely, thankfully. She has a relationship but…these days, it feels like he doesn’t foresee a future. Nick, her boyfriend of three years, goes on and on about his plans in the future, but it never includes her. A shush coming after his words when she ever-so asks…

Would you ever want to marry me?

“The first letter of the love of my life’s name.” She spurts out, knowing that the universe will be unable to ever grant her a benefit of knowing, let alone draw it on her palm with a pendant. Wonwoo doesn’t raise his eyebrows, never judging out loud, but speaking under his breath.

“Totally not the asshole you have for a boyfriend.”

“Wonwoo, have some respect and concentrate.”

“I’m just being honest.” He shrugs, sending a tight-lipped smile her way before he’s tracing her palm with the pendant and letting it hang. The woman at his job told him that it would trace two answers; a circle was a yes, a line was a no, and what she was asking…they’d see if it could get answered.

Much to his surprise, they hold their breaths, looking at the pendant before it starts moving. Almost like magic, like the world has things that we will never understand to its full complexity, the necklace starts moving its pendant until it draws a shape. Repetitive not, perhaps a little bit two quick, but the two folds of the ‘W’ are apparent. Her eyes trail forward, widened in complexion, before laughter spurts out of her lips.

“This shit is crazy.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are tinged pink, standing up and clasping the necklace in between his digits.

“Totally. Uh, where the hell did you even learn this?”

“Remind me to never trust people from work again.” Wonwoo’s back is turned towards her, saving the necklace on the coffee table, and she thinks about it for a moment…

Wonwoo and her together…

Pfft, as if that could ever happen.

“Noted. This will never happen again—”

“Yep. Want to get some burritos?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

The nineties had their own tagline, but ruining a friendship because of some stupid myth as the ear of technology was launching was totally not it.

###

UNIVERSE 02: opposites.

Wonwoo has always had an odd liking to coffee.

He presumptuously admits that he enjoys the taste on the roof of his mouth, and how it burns his palate and awakens him in the early mornings. Macchiato. Latte. Cold or hot. He enjoys them all. Hidden behind of strands of long hair, curled at the edges, and a pair of glasses so thick that they might as well hold all the eyes in the universe, he thinks it’s his own language. His way of speaking without actually opening his mouth. He grants happiness with a ‘good morning’ and a nod of his head, even though his coffee shop is not as big or as crowded as his family back home thinks.

A sigh leaves his lips, wiping the same spot he has worked on since the early morning. Only a client had passed by. A latte, decaffeinated, with two shots of vanilla and one of dark, moody chocolate. The busy man left without much of a glance at him, but the job was done. Hence, the day was uneventful, leaving him with pastries to sell and coffees to prepare. Aching to feel that this business is going somewhere.

He painted the walls green himself, thinking they’d match well with the plants his brother had gifted him after he moved to Jeju with his wife and worked on a gardening program over December. The tables, found in a trip to Scotland, did cost a little bit more than what he likes to admit, but it’s gloomy. Wholesome, like he wants it to be. A place that resembles the peace that comes with having a cup of coffee on a winter day.

It's summer.

Maybe, people just don’t want hot beverages.

The repetition of one of the first albums from The Beatles is cut off by the sound of a megaphone. Sharp and repetitive sentences shouted into the void of the street. People start to gather in front of his shop, but it’s not because of the coffee beans he brews every morning. There is someone else there—one of those hippies that he tries to stay away from.

Wonwoo pushes his hair away from his face, not even making the effort to clasp his beige apron off as he ventures to the entrance door and opens it with a swing. Standing on a small beer box is a woman; sporting a long floral skirt and a simple top that dangles off one shoulder. It reads ‘fuck politicians!’, loud and clear, like the sound of her voice as she asks for rights.

Rights to have some kind of reelection, for she thinks the government is corrupt.

“We are fucking marionettes to the politicians. Workers that will lose their nails clawing to get to the last bit of money they offer us. Not enough for us to eat and live freely—” She speaks into the megaphone, and he notices the soft hue of her lips and the crookedness of her hair. She’s not playing the part, but somehow, she looks quite beautiful in her messiness.

“Excuse me.” Wonwoo speaks softly, as per usual.

“Us women, we need to stay close, to protect the children of our lives. The people that need us the most. We are tired of staying silent—”

Though, she’s silencing him in the process. If this protest gets any heavier, he could even get jailed just because she wants to speak out…in front of a coffee shop. “Um, miss, excuse me, I have something to say—”

“Say it with me: ‘We shall not be silenced’!”

“Miss!” Just when she gives a moment for the crowd to speak, Wonwoo’s voice becomes loud. A shout into nothingness that brings color to his cheeks and a set of widened eyes that anyone could miss if they don’t look at him from up-close. She turns to him, still on that beer box, the wind blowing at her skirt and tracing the soft curves of her body. “This is my coffee shop…and—and I fear my clients would be scared of entering if they saw this protest in front of it. Could you please—?”

“What?” She questions, putting the megaphone down and raising her eyebrows. “This is something important.”

“Yeah! Totally. I know.” Wonwoo, though not a fan of politics, can understand that the economics are not the best these days. Hell, he fears that he will lose the business that he had worked so hard on. “How about this…I know that you planned this protest and that—”

“Just leave the fucking woman alone!” One of the protesters grits through his teeth, the others bursting in exclamations just like him.

“Yeah, fucking capitalist!”

“I could offer all of you coffee! And a place to talk. You buy me a cup, I let you have this whole…ordeal inside.” Wonwoo tries to smile, covered by the strands of his hair, but the wind whisks it away and she gets a good glimpse at him. The frown in between her eyebrows softens, mouth agape for a second before she brings the megaphone up to her lips again.

“We’re going inside! A small business needs us, everybody. We’re not getting out of this mess if we don’t make a change.”

Her hand lays on his shoulder, getting off the box and sending him a smile that blossoms one of his own on his face. It’s crazy how the world has millions of people, each more different than the last one, but there are still connections. Electricity that pulls two people together even with a mere touch, as he realizes just how gorgeous she is.

And so unlike him.

Such an impossibility.

He prepares her favorite coffee then. Sweeter than anything, with marshmallows on top, a caramel Macchiato that keeps her fed along with the guava pastry that she dared try. Speaking her mind away, he only sits and listens, knowing that this is the last time he’ll ever see her.

###

UNIVERSE 03: right person, wrong time.

He looks like the image of what his mother used to coo about every Christmas night when the eggnog got to her system.

Not a man of marriage, he used to say he was, when he was just fifteen years old and promising he could pull through with a relationship. At the time, his now bride-to-be Fae was the third wheel of the trio. The woman that would wipe her tears when everything got to be a little bit too much with him, and that would clasp Wonwoo’s hands in between her own and teach him how to be a better boyfriend. How to leave the faux interests of bad friends behind to build something beautiful.

That they built in just a few months of relationship, tainted and left as lukewarm friendship, got destroyed in just three months.

She’d dare say, however, as she lets the emerald green of her bridesmaid’s dress cascade down her back, knowing fairly well that the fabric fits her a little too snugly because she decided to bathe her stomach with alcohol just hours prior to this, that…Wonwoo was her first love. She had never loved as purely, harshly and truly. With rain falling down on them as they both cried their goodbyes, eager to make it work, but regretting forcing their friendship to be something more.

Now, he’s marrying Fae. They didn’t get together soon after they broke up. It took years, pulling away, falling apart as a trio, coming back together and Wonwoo and Fae being roommates during their senior year of law school for them to get in a relationship.

Though, the word has it that when a man is totally certain about a woman, things will fall into place quickly. He looked at Fae in the eyes quite like he does now, as she stands behind her. Fae has her soft peachy hair curled and tied at the top of her rounded face, lips opened in that heart-curling smile that shows all her teeth, imperfect and yet, so fucking gorgeous. She looks like she was taken out of a fairytale, glowing…and she should be happy with her friend.

Fuck, she is.

God, imagine how difficult it would be to explain to Heaven when she tried to knock on its doors at the end of her life that she was happy…but also a bit jealous that this wasn’t her.

Because once, when she was a teen, she thought she would be in this position. Standing in front of Wonwoo, eager to place her hands on his arms, tug him closer and press their lips together. Call it forever, because it sounds like it could be possible with him. And these are thoughts not to be having when at the altar with her two best friends, as his eyes get filled with tears when looking at Fae.

She wishes it was her.

Wonwoo does look her way at one moment, departing from his vision towards Fae and it’s almost like his shoulders fall. She knows, then, that he remembers the possibilities—what they once talked about when seated on the front-yard of his old house, through small pecks and giggles. They once said that they were ‘ride-or-die’, only to ride along the adventure that they tried.

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, raising the corners of her mouth, as if telling him that they have made it. The ‘happy-ever-after’ reached in different spectrums. Wonwoo smiles back, tracing the outline of his engagement ring, the one that will meet the new ring that will create, hopefully, a lifetime of happiness.

Not with her.

Of course, not with her.

And that doesn’t haunt her. It’s something that she wishes she could have told herself in the past, so she would have never placed herself in Wonwoo’s life that way, making his relationship with Fae easier and more factual from the beginning. However, now that she’s here, it brings nostalgia.

They were once kids, now he’s getting married.

There’s a baby waiting for him in Fae’s womb, that not many people in this church know about. If any, really.

That’s the magic of moving on, but at the same time, wondering why it wasn’t like how they wished for as kids.

She nods at him, mouthing the words: “I’m proud of you.” in hopes that he can read her lips. Wonwoo, excelling at everything he does, manages to do so, nodding back at her before returning his gaze towards his wife.

Then, comes the exchange of words. His deep vibrato promises to cherish Fae forever, and she believes him. Maybe, she doesn’t have anyone by her side, or a man that can compare to the quality of people that Wonwoo is, but the time will come. For now, she’s the tree that shadows over the couple, sheltering from the eyes of the judging as they kiss, after letting out into the world what they wish for each other. Enormous contentedness, for example.

She claps, hands coming together as if praying that they will get to live up to their words. Plenty of years that will come and would have happened to her if Wonwoo was truly her person. Or maybe, he is, because this buzzing excitement that builds like makeup within her chest, coating her heart in layers and layers to hide what truly lays underneath is…an indicative.

Wonwoo is not a person that she got rid off easily. If not, they wouldn’t be friends by now.

Cheers escape her lips, fists balled and raised high in the air for the new couple. At least, someone got to have a happy ending.

###

UNIVERSE 04: the unknown

“I wish I had your eyes.”

Wonwoo says so with simplicity, his nephew—or more like his brother’s grandson—looking up from the handwritten letter that is taking up most of his time and headspace. He takes off on the family genes, with the dark hair, stoic eyes and cat-like smile. Though, the blush is different. In his eighty-six years of living, Wonwoo can’t recall the last time he actually blushed.

He sits back on his chair, creaking from how old it is, wood carving into the spine that had once functioned as leverage for running miles in the Olympics, but now is just a tale that people rarely believe from him. With that, he gets to cross one leg over the other and smile.

Love. Oh lord, love. How beautiful it is, and so inexplicably unreachable for him.

People say that everyone has fallen in love at least once in their lives, but for Wonwoo, it never felt quite right. Women were beautiful in their own spectrum of differences; he had liked a few, if he dares say so himself, with relationships growing and then, withering to the pressure of passing a few months together. But he had never met someone that had him feeling like he could keep going. A romance that could paralyze him to the bone and make him stay.

Now he doesn’t move much, but he doesn’t have anyone that accompanies him, perhaps with a memory, as he sits on this damn uncomfortable chair at six in the morning, downs his two shots of coffee and then, proceeds to read whatever book he finds in his beloved book collection. He wonders if the problem was him; if he couldn’t just quite make his expectations lower so someone could sit by his side.

He feels like his soulmate never came his way, either.

Minho crooks one of his slim legs over his hip, turning to look at the old man. “Paps, I am quite sure you have them. My dad can’t stop going on and on about the Jeon’s and how their eyes are the reason they got ladies on the first place—”

“Not that. Your dad’s an idiot.” Wonwoo excuses, laughing from within his belly and earning a smile from Minho, who plays with the button of his pen. “I am saying that you have a look in your eyes that I wish I had. How long have you been going out with this lady?”

“Almost three months.” Minho admits, running a hand through his dense hair. “…I mean, I’ve liked her for a bit longer, but paps, this is…like…you have to know how it is. I love this woman. I can’t imagine any other girl in my life.”

He can’t say that thought has crossed his head. It’s difficult to fathom just one person being enough for the rest of his life. He was a man of education, so it wasn’t like he was lurking for hook-ups…he just liked the science of relationships more. Why hunt when it always ended in a fall-out?

And he never really cared enough to keep going, either.

“I don’t know how that is. Maybe, that’s the goddamned problem.”

“How—? What?” Minho’s incredulous voice has him standing up, forgetting his letter to his girl to frown at Wonwoo as he points at him. “You’ve never been in love?”

“Never met anybody who could truly make me feel at ease.” Wonwoo announces, clearing his throat and rubbing at the long hairs on his chin. “…Because that’s what love is to me. I didn’t want a woman that I could go crazy with in the sheets. I needed a lady that…made me feel like I could be a better man, who pressured me to be better but still, made it seem like it was nothing. Like trying for her was just enough.”

“That’s crazy…” Minho mumbles, taking a seat next to Wonwoo. It’s horrid that he has to live in the same house as his brother’s family, just because walking gets harder by the day. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I do.” Wonwoo contemplates, nodding along to his words before sighing. “I believe there are people in this universe that we are just meant to find. But I never looked, you know? I stayed still. Hoped the great woman would just burst through the door and be…perfect. For her to be ready for me. For us.”

“That’s not how it works.” Minho says. “Love is action. Soulmates are action, too. You can find them, but if you never truly make an effort to develop and help grow, it’s not going anywhere.” Those words ring within him, youth bursting from his vocal cords, but nonexistent in the antiqueness of his vision. “Because destiny can only do so much. People can be perfect for each other, while being imperfect in their own ways.”

His nephew, or grandnephew, stops for a moment before smiling fully, like a vein in his chest had popped and liberated him.

“If we learn to forgive, we learn to love.” He finalizes, pressing a hand to Wonwoo’s knee and patting it. Those words settle within him; regret basking upon the old man’s figure. Of having so much and yet, having lived so little. With that, the guy raises one eyebrow in questioning. “Would you like to read what I’m writing? I want to give it to her for our four-month anniversary.”

“Technically not an anniversary.” Wonwoo adds the obvious, only to have Minho laughing.

“And right and there, paps, is why you’re still single at this age and time.” He still doesn’t listen to Wonwoo’s grumpy ways, or the grumble that he lets out. Minho sits by his side, the bubblegum pink paper making Wonwoo cackle. “So, I started it off by spraying perfume on it.”

“Of course, you did.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Oh, just so the lady never forgets me.”

“…And there goes, some of your dad’s genes popping out.”

“Paps, don’t be so grumpy.”

“Sorry, that’s what old single men are like.”

“Well, old man, let me show you what real love sounds like.”

###

UNIVERSE 05: we were just kids.

Bones chilled, crippling under the weight of small tremors, Wonwoo doubts this is the harshest rain the city has met. Not that he would know; he’s only been living for eight years in this wholesome world, but he knows for a fact that he could climb mountains with storms that could break the sky itself and he’d make it, just to meet his crush by the swings that near his home.

She’s his neighbor of sorts. His cousin studies with him, just one year older than him, and he ignores the kind of beauty he holds. The headbands that cling to her hair and tangle it even more. The gloss of her lips that may come from the donuts he always steals from his dad’s shelves just to give something to her. Her cheeks are rounded, like universes that he’d dare kiss if that wasn’t prohibited. Mom taught him that he shouldn’t get too close to girls, but she’s…gorgeous.

Intelligent.

She’s a storm waiting to unravel and he notices it when her hands splay under the rain, trapped underneath one of the picnic tables, waiting for the night not to eat them alive with the power of rain water. She may be made of sugar, like the sweetness of her words when she tells him that he’s the best student in his grade, that he knows things that even her, as his senior, has no idea about. That could be why she doesn’t get under the rain, afraid of it, cling to her own knees…

“Oh!” Wonwoo says his thoughts out loud. Of freaking course! Dad always lent his jacket to Mom when the weather got a bit cold. Though, he’s not a businessman. He doesn’t have a jacket around waiting to wrap around her arms. Instead, he stretches the sleeves of his yellow sweater, placing the tips on her ears and mumbling. “You must be freezing.”

“Everywhere. Not just my ears.” She points out and thank God it has gotten late—though not really, he may hear an earful from his parents when he gets back home—. Or, they could come looking for them. For, both her family and his knew about their whereabouts. “You’ll ruin your sweater.”

“You’ll get sick.” Wonwoo points out the obvious, though he can’t help but give a toothy grin that is mostly braces. “…That could give us an excuse to come over to my place. My grandma always makes the best chicken soup. Dad says it heals the heart.”

She smiles at him, crooked, closing her eyes the slightest before returning her gaze to the sky. “I’m afraid we won’t make it home tonight. I don’t want to stay out from home.”

Then, she pauses, lowering her voice.

“I’m scared.”

He hadn’t noticed that while being under the rain with her seemed like the most romantic thing to do, it was also something that she didn’t want to do. Responsible, eager to wrap herself up in her mom’s arms as she had hot chocolate to ease the ache in her joints, that’s who she was. The stars become her north, though Wonwoo notices she’s studying the houses not too far, where the lights have started to take place one by one because of people turning them on at the dusk of dawn.

That’s the cue he needs for taking off his sweater, leaving him only in a white t-shirt with a dinosaur imprinted on it. Then, he’s placing the sweater on top of their heads.

“Wonwoo!” She screeches, covering her face with her palms. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ll get sick, too!”

“I am getting you home, that’s exactly what I’m doing!” His black hair sticks to his face, turning around with his sweater getting drenched while on top of him. He’s already out of their hideaway, nodding at her. “Get here! We need to run before we get entirely wet!”

“Jesus!” She adds, walking alongside him and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep the two of them under the sweater. Wonwoo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart racing within his chest. “O—Okay. I’ll have my mom make you some hot choco in return.”

“Really?”

“O—Of course.” Teeth tittering, she gives him a smile when he looks down at her for a fraction of a second, running through the streets of their neighborhood, shoes ruined because of them splashing against the water-covered concrete. The tip of her nose glistens as if she had just cried, but she looks genuinely happy. “Wonwoo, you’re…the best boy I’ve ever met.”

They are only eight years old, but those words are enough to let Wonwoo know that he wants to be just as old as his parents are and cling to her hand just because he can, and because he wants to. He guides their scavenging, blushing, trembling, mumbling and tripping over his own words, perhaps even his shoelaces, because he is so young and yet, he knows this is love.

The romance his grandma always coos about in those books she reads as her dishes are finished.

The same love that his brother got scolded about just a few days prior for drawing hearts on his notebook.

The love that adults say they can’t find because they are too blind to the obvious. Only a heart that loves purely is able to hunt for romance. For, if love is viewed by a battlefield, it will only be a matter of time before the ticking bomb explodes and their territory is turned to ashes. He may not know a lot about life, or if they’ll last forever, but in his short years of living he knows he doesn’t want her anywhere but at his side, each and every afternoon, playing in that park near their neighborhood, swings with their names written in between doodles of hearts.

###

UNIVERSE 06: i promised i’d stay.

The first night of living with somebody should feel like the initiation of a construction work that only architects could battle with. It’s a promise of sorts; the trial and error that every relationship needs to go through, and she’s so certain about Wonwoo. Everything that he has established and shown to be in the year they have been together, but at the same time, lying next to him as the lull light of his reading lamp bathes over them, his eyes half-closing as he dives into a good read, feels like she could die at any minute.

Not because of him, but she just wants everything to go well.

It’s the fear of having people a few years from now telling her that they saw it from the get-go; that they wouldn’t work out in any way. It’s the irrational thought that pops in her head and tells her that, much like blogs and memes have emphasized, people are not to be trusted, for no one loves truly in this time and age. It’s the weight on her chest that tells her that he loves her, but she could have tried to put on something sexier instead of her usual cartoon pajamas.

She tries to fall asleep to no avail. People say that relationships no longer exist; we are just going from one person to the other, searching to be found. However, the thought of not having Wonwoo by her side and failing in this terrifies her. She is supposed to be the love of his life, the woman that he sighs about every single day and the mere reason why he has a smile on his face. She doesn’t ask for perfect, for they have had their arguments with tranquil conversations aiming to be respectful between the two, but she wants it to be him.

But what if it’s not him?

What if it’s him, but she’s not his ‘it’s her’?

Another turn on the bed.

Another tug of the sheets.

Another sigh.

Wonwoo closes his book softly, eyes closing the slightest before he turns to the side. That’s when he comes face to face with her, pulling the covers slightly over his chin before he connects his gaze to hers.

“I can hear the gears turning inside your head.” He whispers, licking his bottom lip and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before sighing. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She lies through her teeth, afraid of what he may think in that moment of overthinking. Though, Wonwoo doesn’t eat it up, humming at her words.

“Are you sad?”

“Not precisely.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not precisely.” She repeats.

“Is it something I did?”

“Not precisely.” She confesses, hiding her face on his chest and feeling all the weight on her shoulders come out in a sigh. “It’s the fear of what you can do. Like leaving, stop loving me, hating me after moving in with me…wanting to go somewhere else, loving someone else—”

“That’s impossible.” Wonwoo says with a scoff, placing a hand on her face and pressing kisses to her cheeks repeatedly, each softer than the last one.

“Promise me it’s impossible.”

“I can swear.” Wonwoo announces, pulling away to kiss her lips. Her heart races and calms down at his motions at the same time; the paradoxical magic that he pulls with her. “Because I choose to love you every day, even when there are millions of people out there, and circumstances that can happen between us. I choose to go to bed every night with you because I was tired of thanking God and having to think you’re far away. I won’t hate you, because I want to make it work.” He stops for a second, rubbing at a tear that had glided down her eye. “I choose you here, now, tomorrow, forever. You’re the love of my life not because the universe put you on my road, but because I choose you.”

Sometimes, we get lost on ‘the one’. The one person that was made to perfection to fit exactly what we wanted. However, we shape the person we love within our thoughts to be the one that we wanted. It’s up to us to accept someone, or feel like they are the kind of person that we want by our sides forever. She thinks this way as she cuddles closer to his chest, intertwining their legs, imagining if it will feel as safe and beautiful as it does right now when they are eighty and he keeps reading a few chapters before going to bed.

After all, doubting Wonwoo comes in spurts that disappear when she recalls that she feels like she has known him forever. Here, in this lifetime and the many ones to come.

Maybe, in another universe, they are just as in love as they are right now.

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen x raeder #wonwoo #kpop scenarios #writing #soulmate!au

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acethegaycard · 1 year

Text

Favorites?

Showing blatant favoritism towards Xiao when you get isekai'd into Teyvat

SAGAU, they all know your name, voice, and face for convenience. Divine/creator reader

hehehehe giving this man the love he deserves >:D

------------------------------------------------------------------------------One of the first things you did when in Teyvat was call Xiao.

Yes, your currently with Albedo in his lab, accompanied by like half of the playable Mondstadt characters, in a very comfy blanket, but you just need to see him.

Xiao thought he was going to meet the face of the traveler.

On the off chance that he heard your voice calling him, it was always through the traveler. So he was met with an unexpected face when he appeared in the lab. Yours.

And what was even more surprising to him was how your face lit up the moment you saw him. He didn't expect you of all people to call him, and he definitely wasn't understanding why you were so happy to see him.

He excuses it as you being happy to finally be in Teyvat.

It was more than that.

He doesn't think he'll ever understand why your so energetic and excited to just talk to him. But I mean, who would refuse time with their grace? Not him.

Was caught very unexpected by your blatant favoritism. He was never one to chat a lot, so you constant visits accompanied with a fresh plate of almond tofu were hard to get used to. Not that he didn't enjoy being around you no, quite the opposite. He thought that surely you had much more important things to do than spend all day talking to him. Apparently not!

Tries his best. He deeply appreciates you, along with everything you've done even when blocked behind the barrier of your screen. Thinks its highly unnecessary for you to bring him food every time you visit. You have no need to do such a thing, he'd feel honored just to be with you.

He loves to listen to you talk about your world. It seems so different from Teyvat. Intently listens every time to tell a story of some sort, he listens as if its the best story he's heard in a millennium. If you pay close enough attention, you'll see a scowl of his face whenever you talk about somebody or something that had done something to you in the past. He grips the railing of the inn slightly tighter as well.

The more often your visits become, the more he secretly looks forward to them. At first, he saw chatting with you as some sort of honor. And while he still does, he's become more relaxed when being around you. You're comforting to him now. That's something he never thought would happen.

He basically becomes a bodyguard. You usually travel in a group to ensure your safety, but there's a 90% chance that all the nearby threats to your safety are completely gone before you even set foot onto the road. The more you get to know each other, the more you realize just how often he's around. Ensuring your safe is his way of being appreciative.

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

this is an old draft don't mind how the beginning is written.

#xiao #xiao x reader #sagau #sagau xiao #xiao sagau #sagau x reader #genshin #genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #xiao fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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whorediaries-09 · 4 months

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okay but popstar!reader and rockstar!sirius where reader performs a song, and wears sirius' leather jacket while doing it and screams "yes i'm his girlfriend, do what you want with that information"and sirius is SHOCKED or in which reader is in an interview and get questioned abt siri and she's like "he's the love of my lifee" and he is all gooey and melty

eep! i'm sorry i've been inactive, i hope you forgive me. i was on a little trip and also have my exams. anyways, i hope you like what i've written.

smoke on my clothes;

pairing- rockstar!sirius black x popstar!reader warnings- fluff, 18+ content (i had to incorporate it cause its him-) use of y/n (aghhhkdjci4utcisn). let me know if i should add more a/n- okay so i mixed both the ideas like-um- idk how to explain, you'll see.

the slut club

lovelorn and nobody knows love thorns all over this rose

he was known for his notorious dating history. he was known for his "sex appeal". he was known for cigarettes after sex. he was known for his black leather jackets. he was known for his distinct rough voice, booming through stadiums. and through the years, he had a gained a reputation of being nothing but a man who seemed to a 'playboy' of sorts.

that pushed the media to slut shame him. but what happened behind close walls remained in his memories, and only he knew. while he could usually laugh it off when asked in interviews, he still felt hurt. he wasn't a man of commitment, and whenever he took a woman to his bed, he specified he didn't want any emotional bonding. it was supposed to be just a one night stand.

that was until he met you. you had agreed to collab with him on a project he had been working on. while the both of you rehearsed different genres of music, sirius wanted to experiment with his style a little bit. you were truly a sight to behold, clad in your cream oversized sweater and black jeans when you walked in the studio. there was something so mesmerizing about you, something that truly enchanted him.

that is how you got to know him. the sobs behind his smiles, the addiction behind the smoke on his clothes, the kisses behind his stage. he'd hold your hand under tables, kiss your pretty face stupid in private, he'd braid flowers into you hair. and in the perception of the hues of dark oceans, his gray stormy eyes would melt into your tear flooded haze when his cock was buried into you, hitting spots you'd never knew existed. his well defined abs would be soaked in sweat, lit under the moonlight. his lips would melt into your lips, his fingers pressing into your skin as your walls would clench around his cock, hinting the arrival of your orgasm. he would ghost his fingers at your clit, your moans and screams of his name falling like a cacophony of a melody into his ears. you'd shudder, shake and curl your toes with your breast heaving as you'd come down from your high euphoria, hitting you as he'd paint your walls with his hot white cum. he'd pepper kisses upon your hot skin, murmuring phrases of affection and falling asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

he was a liquor you could be drunk on. but loving him was like holding a love thorned rose.

****

you wrapped the jacket around your body, hugging it closer, smelling sirius' scent upon you. the interview consisted of the same old questions but you still had to answer them with a faux smile on your face. sirius wondered how you could manage to do it all the damn time.

you shuffled with the cards, reading the tweet by a fan. you looked into the camera,

'so sirius motherfucking black just collabed with y/n? i think i'm about to faint. oh holy lord, they'd be the hottest couple if they dated.'

sirius almost about fainted. bells started ringing in his ears, as his heart thumped against his heart. truly against your wishes and his, the love you had for each other was hidden. once when you had brought it up, he'd laughed it off by saying it would blow up on your pretty face. but deep down he wanted the world to know how amazing you were, and maybe being slut shamed for you, would be worth it, for once. and while you had the image of a sweet popstar, and the world wanted you, it felt like it would be a crime to confine you with him. but his love knew no boundaries. he'd kill for you, he thought when you were so accepting of him and his flaws when he revealed that he was so 'imperfect'.

he gripped on the edge of his table, his knuckles almost turning white when you opened your mouth to answer. you smiled, holding up a finger as you did so.

'actually he is the love of my life,'

the sentence slipped so casually from your lips, as you proceeded with the tweets and questions. if he could, he'd hug you. but you were behind a screen on his phone. he felt wanted, accepted and desired. without his realization tears pooled into his eyes. he felt loved.

because you didn't care about the smoke adorned on your clothes. you didn't care about getting lovesick all over your bed. you didn't care about handprints in wet cement. you didn't care about that he was rose with thorns. you were truly drunk in love, and maybe it would be worth it even for once if it blew up on your pretty face.

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wintfleur · 2 months

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Congrats on 1k!! You're such a talented writer, and I can't think of anyone more deserving of this 💕

If it's no trouble, for the celebration, could I request 014 from 🌱 with Logan Sargeant?? Maybe where the reader is the one needing the ambulance?? If not, it's no worries, and if you want to take it in a different direction, that's perfectly okay 🫶

౨ৎ perfect?

°. — pairings ( Logan Sargeant x female! reader )

°. — summary ( your perfect date takes a turn when your date accidentally almost kills you with sesame seeds . . . oops? )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; slight cursing, a poorly written allergy reaction, I think that’s all. wc; 1.9k 😧 )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ the back of a wailing ambulance

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHH MY FIRST LOGAN FIC !!! Tysm for requesting, I had so much fun writing it. I honestly couldn’t make this angsty, I couldn’t handle sad logy tbh . . . I hope you enjoy it !!! Please don’t be a silent reader !!! And tysm for the sweet words ily 🫶🏻 )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist f1 masterlist

“It's so nice out tonight” you breathed out as you looked up at the pretty night sky, the fairy lights that adored and draped around the outside restaurant created a beautiful ambience. You looked away from the sky and rested your elbow on the table and your chin on your palm as you looked across the table at your date with a small smile. He was already looking at you, his cheeks flushed as he took in your beauty. You raised your eyebrow and tease him with a small smirk “You seem to have lot of experience planning dates.”

“What? Oh . . . No I ⸺ i'm really bad at planning dates really!” Logan replied quickly with a shake of his head, he did not want you to think he had a lot of experience, because he really didn't. He just really liked you and spent hours planning a great date to take you on. You couldn't help but giggle at Logan's nervous and slightly frantic tone. You found it so endearing how nervous he was and how well he planned the date.

“Relax Logan, I'm just messing with you” You smiled sweetly as you reached your other hand to lace yours with his that rested on the table. Logan let out a heavy breath and returned the smile as he laced his hand with yours, his thumb softly caressing your skin. He wasn't always this nervous, he couldn't help but be when he was with you. You were just so perfect, so pretty, you naturally took charge and you just oozed confidence . . . how could he not be?

The two of you locked eyes, both of you finding yourself getting lost in each other's eyes. You couldn't help but look back on the day you have had with the sweet American. Technically the date started in the afternoon, the two of you touring and him taking you to his favorite spots, before taking you to a museum he knew you would love. He wasn't really the museum type, but he was willing to do anything you wanted. It's been a great day together.

“Here are your appetizers” The sound of the waiter's voice broke the intense eye contact the two of you shared. You looked away from him first and gave the waiter a small smile, reluctantly letting go of Logan's hand as you said a small thank you. The waiter smiled and set the two plates on the table and told them to enjoy the food, before leaving them.

You take your fork into your hand and take a bite of the appetizer that took you several minutes to choose. A hum of satisfaction leaves your lips after you swallow the first bite. Logan smiles and glances back down at his bowl of greens and fruit, still having to keep up with his diet for driving. You wipe the corners of your mouth with the napkin and rest it back on your lap “Wow this is really good, how did you find this place?”

“I found it last season when we had a few days off before a race” Logan replied after he stopped chewing, grabbing his glass and taking a large sip of water, his hands shaking slightly as held the glass, still as nervous. Logan cleared his throat and got a good amount of everything on his fork and lifted up for you “Wanna try mine?”

“Sure” You smiled leaning forward and opening your mouth slightly, Logan blushes and carefully slides the fork into your mouth holding his hand under the fork so he would catch anything if it spilled. Such a gentleman you mused as you chew the salad, you swallow and lick your lips.

“Mhm you have great taste” You smiled as you leaned back in your chair, your eyes twinkling in slight mischief, knowing that you weren't just meaning his taste in food. Logan chuckles and nods in agreement and before he could try to respond with some cheeky response, he's cut off by the sound of you coughing. His eyes widen and he holds out his water for you, you clear your throat and take a sip of the water. “Sorry i don't know where that came from.”

“Went down the wrong pipe?” Logan smiled reassuringly, patting your hand softly when you set down the glass of water. You try to smile but you frown instead when you feel a familiar tingling on your tongue and lips, you bring your other hand up to rub at your neck that was starting to throb “My, my throat feels funny” you lick your lips and look up at logan who was already giving you a look of worry. “Does that salad have sesame seeds or oil in it?”

Logan's eyes widen and grabs his fork and moves around the salad to search for it, his heart dropping when he sees sesame seeds . . . the food you are extremely allergic to. He's up before he could even think, moving to your side and getting on his knees, his hands frantically searching through your bag for your EpiPen he knew you always carried with you as you sat in your chair. The tingling was starting to get worse, and you were finding it harder to breathe.

“Oh my god fuck it's not in here” Logan curses and he looked through your small purse, all you had were a few lip-glosses, your keys, wallet and some hair ties, but no EpiPen. “What?” Your tone was filled with fear and your eyes were starting to glaze over with tears and it just broke his heart. Logan quickly pulled out his phone and dialed up 911. You looked away from him and down at your lap as you tried to calm down your breathing, Logan quickly told the dispatch what happened and gave them the address.

“It's okay, it's okay there on their way okay” Logan tried to reassure you but he himself was also panicking, he moved some of your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek. You nodded softly and cleared your throat, a painful cough escaping your lips. You heard the sound of multiple footsteps and the familiar sound of the waiter's voice, but you couldn't focus on them as Logan explained what was going on, one of the waiters rushing to get you more water.

The minutes seemed to fly by and before you could tell Logan that you were starting to feel dizzy you heard the distant sound of the ambulance alarm. Logan lets out a sigh of relief and quickly grabs your bag and coat off your chair before helping you stand up and holding you close, leading you towards the front of the restaurant where the ambulance was pulling in. The flashing lights made you wince and lean more against Logan as your eyes fluttered close.

He had his arm around your waist in a strong but not uncomfortable hold while his other arm was holding your things. The ambulance stopped in front of the restaurant, logan ignoring the looks they received from the people around them. An emt quickly rushes out of the back and over to the two of you, your eyes were barely open, and your ears were ringing as the emt takes you from Logan's arms and helps you into the ambulance. Sitting you down and asking you questions, your throat burned, and you didn't want to talk so Logan quickly jumped in to answer for you.

Logan paced outside of the ambulance as he kept his eyes on you and one of the Emt’s gave you an injection of a medicine he was sure he couldn't pronounce while another asked him questions on what happened. He did his best to answer them, but he was honestly too focused on making sure you were okay.

He felt terrible oh so incredibly guilty . . . this was his fault, the reason why you could have almost died from an allergic reaction was because of him. The emt’s stayed by your side while the medicine kicked in, and thankfully soon the tingling and pain was gone, your throat was a little sore but that was expected. You gave them all of your information and 30 minutes later Logan was walking you to his car to take you home.

“I have an excuse not to talk” you whispered as you motioned to your neck, the two of you were sitting in his car and Logan was about to start the car. Logan was unusually quieter than normal, and you were really hoping that he wasn't blaming himself. You continued whispering “But what's yours?”

“I’m so sorry, i totally ruined our date and almost killed you ⸺ i really like you and i wanted this to go perfectly and i ruined it, this is all my fault” Logan quickly rushed out as he turned in his seat to face you, his eyes filled with guilt and a frown on his lips. You couldn't help but grin at his words, he likes you . . . he likes you. Logan gives you a look of confusion when he sees your grin, he was fully prepared for you to be upset with him ⸺ for literally almost killing you but instead . . . you were smiling at him?

“Are you okay? Are you feeling weird from the medicine? Should I call them again?” Logan panicked as he reached for his phone, but you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his, they were shaking. Logan looked down at your laced hands and you rubbed your thumb over his as you whispered “I feel fine . . . perfect actually.”

“Perfect?”��

“This isn't your fault, Logan. I'm the one who forgot my EpiPen'' You squeezed his hand reassuringly as you looked into his pretty eyes, you really didn't want him to blame himself for a simple and accidental mistake. “And I really like you too logan . . . i have for a while now, today went perfectly.”

How could you not like him? He was a complete gentleman, so caring . . . so perfect.

“Perfectly?” Logan whispered and if he wasn't so shocked he would have felt embarrassed for the way his voice cracked. He was sure that you would never want to talk to him again after tonight, and he wouldn't have blamed you. You couldn't help but giggle and nod your head as you watched him try to process everything you said “Mhm”

“And you really like me” Logan whispered, his beautiful blue eyes filled with happiness, you smiled and leaned across the center console to place a soft kiss on his flustered cheek, slowly pulling away and watching as Logan's eyes followed your lips before looking up to lock eyes with you as you whisper “I like you a lot.”

Logan smiled and leaned his face closer to you, your lips almost touching, and your breath hitched at how close he was to you, his eyes asked for permission, and you were the one to make the next move, closing your eyes and placing your lips on his in a soft kiss. He used his free hand to cup your cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Reluctantly only pulling away so the two of you could catch your breath.

Logan grinned as he whispered against your lips, “Wanna come to mine and order a pizza?” you giggle and nod quickly, bringing your hand up to wipe the small amount of your lip-gloss that transferred to his bottom lip. You whispered back teasingly “As long as i get to pick the toppings.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I’m so sorry if this is terrible, I wrote it fairly quickly, which is rare for me. Again I hope you guys enjoy it !!! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 )

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rustedhearts · 10 months

Text

send her my love (boxer!steve x fem!librarian!reader)

summary: a series of letters written after your recent breakup with steve, recounting your time apart.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of the ring ♡ main masterlist

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey love letters.

a/n: pretty self explanatory, but libby’s letters are in pink, steve’s are in black ♡

“…how it hurt so bad to see her cry. i didn’t want to say goodbye. send her my love, memories remain. send her my love, roses never fade.”

—send her my love, journey

december 1992—march 1993

♡ ♡

12/05/92

Dear Libby,

Dear god I hope you open this. My hands are shaking so bad around the pen that I’m sure it’ll be all scratchy and shit, but I hope you know that I’m trying. I know how much you love letters, and after you stopped picking up my calls a few weeks ago…I figured this was the best way to reach you.

It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other. I hate thinking about that day. I hate thinking about you crying, and crying because of me. Because of something I did. I want you to know that I take full accountability for what I did, my love. That’s a word they said I should use more often. Accountability. “They” would be Big and Mikey. When they heard about what happened…I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so mad. I think, for a moment, Big thought about coming out of retirement just to kick my ass into next year.

I patched up the wall myself. It was my mess to clean. The house seems so big and empty without you. I never realized it echoed before.

I don’t blame you for going home, baby. I know you’ve been wanting to go for a while. I know I drove you away. Pushed you away. I was so terrible to you and I see that now. I’m so sorry it took something so awful for me to see it. But you were right. I’m just like my father. And I needed someone to tell me that so I could realize how fucking stupid and awful I’ve been.

I hope you don’t mind that I used some of your stationary to write this to you. You left it on the desk downstairs. The shelves came in for your books and I put them up. Maybe when you come home, we can fill them up. I’ll buy you all the books in the world, my girl.

I’m sorry. Please know that.

Love,

Steve.

♡ ♡

12/10/92

Steve,

I was surprised to receive your letter. When I stopped answering and your calls stopped coming, I assumed we were done for good. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Despite my every want to feel the opposite, I’m still so terribly in love with you that my head hurts every waking moment of the day. I ache with it. Now that we’re apart, it bleeds. It has nowhere to go. I have nowhere to put it. But this was your doing, Steven. I don’t want you to forget that.

We both said terrible things that day, but what you did was unforgivable. You promised from the start to never raise a hand against me in anger. You promised to never become the thing you hated. I took your word as bond, and perhaps that was my mistake. Perhaps that’s my grievance to regret.

I miss you terribly, but this time apart will be good for us. It’s what we need. I’ve been away from home since I was 19. My brother stands taller than me. His voice is so much deeper than when I left. They’re getting computers at the library soon. Everything is so different, yet it all still seems the same. But even these tiny differences make me realize how long I’ve been away.

It’s snowing here in Hawkins and I helped mom put up the Christmas lights. Nick and I had a snowball fight. I felt ten years old again. Mom made hot chocolate and we watched Charlie Brown. I know how much you love Charlie Brown’s Christmas. But in that moment, I felt wonderfully calm. I felt okay. I felt happy.

And it made me wonder…were we happy, Steve? Or have we been pretending for too long?

I’m glad my shelves came. Use them for your trophies.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

12/14/92

Libby,

I can’t tell you how happy I was to get your letter in the mail. I’ve been scared to open it for the past two days. But the thought of going a moment more without knowing what you said would kill me. I can hear your voice so clearly when I read your words.

I’ll never forget what I did that day, Libby. It will always be a reminder of how awful I’ve become. And it will always be a reminder of who I don’t want to be ever again.

I know it doesn’t mean much now since I’m a few months too late, but I’m talking to someone. A shrink or whatever. Big recommended him. Apparently he specializes in “anger issues.” You know how I feel about sitting down and whining about my problems, but…I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help. If it turns me back into the man you loved then I’ll sit on that couch and talk for days.

You asked if we were pretending, and for me at least, I never pretended for a moment. There wasn’t a second that went by that I didn’t love you with every ounce of my being. I’m sorry if you felt you had to pretend. I’m sorry that you weren’t happy, and if you give me the chance, I’ll do my best to make you happy this time around.

No amount of trophies or champion belts in the world could make up for the loss of you, my angel. Please know that and believe it.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

12/22/92

Steve,

I hate the way your words make my heart pound. All that love is still so strong, and it’s all still festering in me. But the heartache is just as powerful. The heartache is just as real.

I cannot give you a second chance just yet. I don’t think we’ve quite earned it. I don’t think we’ve yet reached a point where we’re both okay—on our own. I want to be okay even without you. I fear I’ve become so reliant on you to tell me where life will go, because my life has revolved around your own. I’ve never found my own path to wander. I want that opportunity now.

I went to the Hideout tonight. A Christmas party with some friends. I haven’t felt that young in years, Steve. I’m only 22.

Merry Christmas, Steve. And happy New Year.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

1/3/93

Libby,

Christmas was lonely without you. Mikey invited me to his "bachelor pad" in L.A for a "booze fest" (all his words). Gargling gravel sounded like a better time. For a minute, I thought maybe it might be good to get out. To be my own person, like you said. But everything just feels so dull now.

I thought about mailing your present, but I figured you'd just get upset. I want to respect your space and our time apart. My shrink says I have to find more time for other people's wants and needs instead of just prioritizing my own. Is that what I've been doing, Libby? Is that what I've always done?

I guess I kinda did. Took you away from the library and your home. I just wanted you with me all the time. I couldn’t imagine getting through that first string of fights without you. I don’t think I’d be the fighter I am today if I didn’t have you there.

I guess I’m talking about “me” a lot again. I’m sorry I do that.

I hope your Christmas was nice. Hope it snowed the way you like.

Love,

Steve

♡ ♡

1/28/93

Libby,

I haven’t heard from you all month. I thought I’d reach out again. For a few days, I had myself convinced my letter got lost in the mail. I waited for a “return to sender” to come. I think I would’ve preferred the honest rejection to your silence. It’s been so quiet here, my girl. I miss the sound of your voice in our home.

The fights mean nothing anymore. I won the Russell fight last week and felt nothing. Ever since you left, victory tastes stale. The referees declare the winner and I just hear static. Jesus, I miss you so much I started reading some of your sappy literature last week. It’s clearly having an affect.

I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re good. I miss you more and more with every passing day. I miss you more than I thought was ever humanly possible for one person to miss another. I never thought this deep of a feeling could exist. This “break” has taught me a lot.

Been talking to the shrink more too. He says I have an issue with authority and always need to feel in control because of how my dad was. Big fucking brain on this guy, huh? Must’ve went to school in Dumb Fuckville.

Sorry. I’m trying to be kinder. Not swear so much. Wish they made patches for anger like they do for nicotine. Something to ease the ache. But it’s hard to quit something you were born into. The Harrington rage doesn’t just disappear over night. But I swear I’m trying. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, baby. I’m doing my best to be better.

I hope I hear from you. I hope you’re alright.

I love you.

— Steve

♡ ♡

2/3/93

Steve,

I meant to write. I’ve been so busy now that I’m at the library full time again. I forgot how taxing it can truly be, but it’s like riding a bike. The smell of the books, the feel of the paper, the conversations you have with readers who don’t know where to look, or the ones who do and are searching for more. I forgot how important I feel between those stacks of books.

My girlfriends and I have been going out. They never got to celebrate my twenty-first with me, so we had a belated celebration a few weeks ago. We went to a bar in Indianapolis, took a bus the whole way there. The bar was loud and hot and sticky, and someone spilled beer all over my purse. I know you would’ve hated it, but part of me wished you were there. Bodies were pressing against each other on the dance floor, touching and smearing sweat—but all I wanted to feel was yours. Your familiar frame, right next to me. Only with you have I ever felt so secure.

Anyway, I got my first hangover, and that wasn’t fun. Especially because I’m still staying with my parents and they still think I’m seventeen. Nick tried to get me to buy him beer for his friends. I wish I could be this ‘cool’ older sister for him, but right now he doesn’t like me very much.

I watched your fight last week. There’s something so different in the way you move now. Your punches seem heavier, harder. You take more hits before you hit back. I wish you wouldn’t do that. You know I always worry, Steve. I worry about what might happen if you take too many hits. All those concussions can’t be good. I’m no doctor, but I figure eventually, they’ll catch up to you. I don’t want to see that happen. I can’t fathom the idea of losing you like that. No matter what happens between us, I always want to know you’re well. Selfishly, I always want to know you're out there if I need to call.

I’m glad to know you’re trying, and that you’re still going to therapy. I think it’s very healthy, Steve, and I appreciate and value your honesty. And….I miss you too.

Yours,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/12/93

Libby,

There hasn't been a moment that's gone by since you left that I haven't wished I was with you. In whatever way that might be, all I've wanted is to feel your body next to mine. I miss your touch, your smell, your smile. I never want to know another kiss but yours. I never want to hold another body in my arms that isn't yours. I don't think I could stomach the thought of never having that again.

The longer the time between us lasts and the further the distance grows, the worse I ache for you. God I sound like a fucking dope. It's all those novels you left me, I swear I'm not this sappy. But I guess with you I am.

Please forgive me. Please come home. All I can do now is beg, and show you how hard I'm trying.

I love you, angel. There's nobody and nothing but you.

Love,

Steve

P.S. You're the best big sister. Nick will see that one day when his brain isn't full of beer and Playboy.

P.P.S. Happy early Valentine's Day, baby. I hope the flowers are okay.

♡ ♡

2/17/93

Dear Steve,

I loved the flowers, and I loved the sap. Reading your last letter brought tears to my eyes, and for the first time in a while, they were blissful. I cannot begin to describe the size of the welt in my chest. It feels bruised by your absence and my longing.

Despite every bone in my body yearning for you, I cannot come home. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't think you are, either. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and while it pains both of us to endure it, I think they're right. Whoever "they" are.

In the spirit of all this honesty, I have to admit: Tom Marrow asked me out for Valentine's Day. And god damn you, Steve, I said no. I said no because I'm wilting without your sun shining on me, and I'm lost without you by my side. I said no because I'll never be able to look into the face of another man without wishing it was yours.

I said no because I know, one day (maybe soon, maybe not), I'll come home to you. Don't let that get to your head.

Love,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/22/93

Libby,

My heart has never suffered as many palpitations in all my high-risk athletic career as it did reading your letter. I hate the way the paper crumpled in my fist when I read about fucking Tom. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to abandon the jealousy that fills me when I think of you with another man. But I can admit, it reached a point even I don't like to think of. I was letting it control me. I'm trying not to do that anymore.

The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink. That's what you've reduced me to, my love. An animal searching for you in the earth.

Please come home. Please come back to me.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

3/2/93

My darling Steve,

I'm coming home to you. Please unlock the door.

Yours always,

Libby

♡ ♡

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