#and his voice cracks as he's forced to say out loud for the first time in his life 'i couldn't save them' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jm-2406 · 16 hours

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Just a ring.

Summary - “he has asked me to marry him but I had to come here first. I need to know if you feel anything… anything at all for me.”

Pairing - Theodore Nott x reader; Male OC x reader.

Word count - 2150.

Warnings - infidelity, flashbacks in italics, grown up theo & reader.

Cursive words made their way across the document as he led the pen from left to right, every movement a study in perfection. A famous business wizard like Theodore Nott who hailed from a high class pure blood family, couldn't afford anything less than perfection. He pursed his lips as he focused on getting his signature just right, reading the already typed composition. Mergers, especially one as important as this one needed to be dealt with utmost care, and a very carefully crafted ‘brown nosing’ letter never hurt anyone.

He was feeling very pleased with his efforts when a loud noise from outside his office startled him. Throwing an angry glare towards the closed door, he cursed the person who disturbed him.

“You can't go in there Miss. He's very busy.” His secretary's voice reached his ears. “To hell with his schedule. I don't care.” The other voice responded sharply and he knew who that other person was. He mentally prepared himself for the upcoming drama, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

“I'm sorry Mr. Nott, this—this Woman refused to make an appointment. Should I escort her out?”

Theodore eyed the girl in front of him; she stared back defiantly, challenging him. He wouldn't throw her out but that didn't mean that he couldn't make her sweat. The young woman in front of him started to fidget nervously the longer Theodore kept staring at her without a word. “It's okay Riya. You're excused.” The woman heaved a sigh of relief at his words.

Theodore turned to her and said coldly. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? What is it, [Y/L/N]? Say your piece and spare me. I am too busy to hear your rambling right now.”

[Y/N] scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to protect herself from his coldness. “Wow. So you can speak more than three words at a time and just my luck that you use them to dismiss me. ‘[Y/L/N]’, ‘my piece’... You are so intolerable Theodore.”

“Then why are you here, love?” He retorted flippantly but her next words made him stop his work.

“He knows…”

“Who knows what, [Y/N]?”

“Alex… he found your waistcoat under the bed… the one you forgot to put on because of some ‘important’ business.” She confessed, her voice shaky. She paused and then opened her mouth to continue, her voice cracking. “He didn't even ask who it belonged to. He said that it didn't matter. He blamed himself, you know…For being gone so often.”

Theodore kept staring at the papers on his desk, completely still. He didn't know what kind of response she was expecting but his mind went blank. He was about to say something when she dropped the final bomb. “He has asked me to marry him.”

Her eyes finally rose up from the floor. He could feel her willing him to look back at her; willing him to show any emotion. But the man kept staring at his desk, forcing himself to pick up the document and continue his letter.

“I haven't answered him yet.” She admitted, “I had to come here first. I had to see you, but you've been avoiding me and… I just need to know if you feel anything, anything at all for me.” She waited for him to respond, waited for any sign from him but he was as cold as ice and just as frozen as he signed his name at the end of his letter.

He continued his work robotically and took a breath only after hearing her footsteps shuffling closer to the door. “I meant what I said that night… I still do.” She whispered and then she was gone, missing the look that crossed his face.

After crying her heart out, [Y/N] kept staring at the end of the room blankly, her mind still stuck on everything that has happened in her life recently. “I am stronger than this.” She whispered to herself. Her head fell against the back of the couch, and she curled a leg up beside her, wrapping her arms around it as she glanced out the window.

It never should have happened, she knew that now, but she still couldn't bring herself to regret that it had. It had all started about six months ago, she and Alex had been having a lot of arguments around that time.

“You promised!” She raised her voice, fed up with his attitude.

“I know babe but this is urgent.” Alex said softly, trying to pacify her but it made her angrier instead.

“Fine. Go wherever you want to. Do whatever you want. But I am not going to keep changing my plans according to you every time. I am going to attend the Christmas Eve party… with or without you.”

“No. You can't do that [Y/N]. What will they say? My reputation will be thrashed.”

“Oh I can and I will. If you care about your ‘reputation’ then come to the event with me.” She asked one last time but only got a shake of head in return as Alex took his briefcase and apparated.

There at the party, [Y/N] found herself in the company of none other than Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherin guys from a year above her. She had never interacted with him outside of the classes. Though she didn't trust him, she couldn't disagree that the man was charming. A few drinks later, she found herself up against a wall in one of the vast deserted hallways, moaning and thoroughly enjoying herself with a man that most definitely was not her boyfriend. That was how it all started.

Secret correspondence and casual meetings followed. Every time she would receive one of his notes or calls, she would hesitate and every time she gave in. She couldn't stop herself; he made her feel passionate, naughty, and desirable. It was everything she never felt with Alex thus she became addicted.

Over time, their pattern seemed to change. It started with simple words after they were intimate and soon she found herself spending nights in his house. It went to a point where she would see Alex maybe once in two or three weeks for a date and spend almost every other day with Theodore.

After sometime she realized that her feelings for the two men had begun to change. Theodore had become her confidant and lover. On the other hand she found herself forgetting about the dates with Alex, arriving late when he called her, zoning out when he talked to her. She was figuring out what to do when the unexpected happened.

They were lying in his bed, quietly content after a night full of activity when her lips, engaged by a sleepy mind, betrayed her. “I think… I love you.” Time froze. In one swift movement, her lover had stood from the bed and had placed his robe around his shoulders, apparating away.

She remembered how she had sat there; hurt and humiliated beyond belief. It had taken all the strength and courage that she could muster to get dressed and leave that night. That was two weeks ago.

Truth to be told, when Alex had found Theodore's waistcoat under her bed, she felt relieved. Everything would be out in the open, she could move on but once again reality turned out to be quite different than her thoughts. Alex opened up to her about his behaviour and promised to work less, be with her more and that he wanted to marry her. Before she could blink, he was down on his knee, proposing to her.

“I… I need time, Alex.”

Now here she was, lamenting unrequited love and cursing her fate.

A week later -

[Y/N] pushed open the door of her flat with a tired sigh. She tossed her shoes into their space in her coat closet with one hand as she released the clip that held her hair with the other. Moving towards the kitchen cabinet, she uncorked the wine bottle and took a sip directly from the bottle.

“Long day?” A deep voice asked her.

She turned on her feet and observed the man in front of her. Theodore was sitting on the couch as if he owned the place. “What. Do. You. Want?” She asked slowly, proud of the bitterness in her voice. “Theodore…”

He didn't verbally respond; calling her to him with a gesture of his hands. She wanted to shout at him but she couldn't. He made her weak. He reached up with his fingers for her left hand, his thumb brushing over the plain gold band that sat there.

“I'm engaged…” She tried to stop the teasing fingertips from continuing their journey of exploring her body.

“Well… you're not married yet. It's just a ring.” He whispered, holding her face to make her look at him. She felt the pads of his fingertips gripping the ring on her third finger and slowly sliding it off. A metallic clink resonated in her ears as the ring fell to the floor.

The fight drained out of her as she sunk into her lover's arms. Her knees folding under her as his lips joined with hers. She knew that this night would be their final goodbye.

“Where is your engagement ring?”

“I… I must have forgotten it.”

“Forgotten it? On the night of our engagement party?” Alex questioned incredulously. They were interrupted by some other guests and they easily fell into the conversation, saving [Y/N] from trying to come up with more lies.

“How are you doing, Codnor?” Another voice interrupted the couple. Alex cursed seeing the person who disturbed his conversation with his fiancèe.

“How did you even enter, Nott? This is an invitation only party so kindly leave before I kick you out.”

Theodore smirked, raising his closed fist over [Y/N]'s glass of champagne. One by one he uncurled his fingers, dropping something small and shiny. Alex had a look of confusion and shock on his features as he realized that in the glass was [Y/N]'s engagement ring.

“I know I wasn't invited, Codnor, but I am here to collect what's mine… don't look so shocked. She hasn't been yours for a while.”

Before she could think, Alex punched Theodore, hard… and a fight started between the two. Alex's parents changed the topic and sent the guests on their way to save their image of respectful people. It wasn't until [Y/N] physically pulled Theodore back that he stopped. Even though Alex was almost as tall as Theodore, he was no match for his muscles and strength.

“When did this… this thing start? Tell me everything, [Y/N]… honestly this time.” Alex pleaded.

“Six months ago. I was angry at you and I know it is wrong but… when I did go to the party, alone, no one paid any attention to me. Didn't even greet me with a simple ‘hello’. I felt as though I was only someone if I was with you. I felt so worthless. Theodore was at the party. He annoyed me and I took my anger out on him… I don't know how but the next thing I remember is kissing him; one thing lead to another and here we are… I am sorry Alex. I don't deserve you.”

Alex scoffed. He left immediately after throwing the ring down. His mouth did not say a word but his eyes conveyed the anger and disgust he was feeling at her.

[Y/N] turned to Theodore. “Well. It was a long day. Thank you for ruining my engagement party. Now I think we should go.” She stood from her chair but Theodore pulled her back by her wrist, making her sit on his lap. “What is it?” She asked him.

“You asked me that day, if I feel anything at all for you. The answer is, I don't. I feel everything for you, Miss [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” He said cupping her face in his hands and pressed his lips on hers.

She smiled in their kiss knowing for sure that the man whom she gave her heart to would do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy now that he finally realised what she meant to him.

THE END.

Note - i have written a Tommy Shelby version of this one, you can find it here if you are interested. I thought this one screams “Theo” so why not make a Theo version too.

#theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #slytherin boys #one shot #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott one shot #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

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salternateunreality2 · 1 day

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AGSZC Adopt an Emotional Support Cat for Sephiroth

From the @strayheartless archives <3

Thanks @heraldofcrow and @altocat for the grammar help!

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It doesn’t go as planned.

They go to the shelter to try to find a kitten, but Sephiroth finds something even better: a feral momma cat with a single living kitten because all her other babies died. He and she stare at each other for a solid 15 minutes through the bars, until AGZC find them.

Genesis: THERE you are. Sephiroth, the adoptable kittens are this way.

Sephiroth: This one.

Zack: Oh, sorry bud, this one says the kitten is too young to leave his mother.

Sephiroth: No, this cat. The kitten can come too. *has not broken eye contact yet*

Angeal: Sweetheart, this says she’s feral and not up for adoption, and neither is her kitten. Come on, let’s go look at the ones that are available, ok?

Sephiroth: This one.

Cloud: *Looks at Seph. Looks at the cat. Looks at the kitten. Looks at Seph.* This one.

Angeal, Genesis, and Zack can all be stubborn, but they are faced with the immovable object that is Sephiroth with a fixation and the unstoppable force that is Cloud protecting someone. They convince the shelter staff they can take care of both the mother and the baby. Yes, even though she’s feral. Yes, they know they can’t be separated. Yes, they will handle medicating the feral cat.

—

Momma cat immediately adopts Sephiroth as a second kitten. Then Cloud as her third. The first kitten grows up and is weaned and becomes Zack’s dog-cat. He’s friendly and cuddly and likes to play fetch, and his momma likes him, but knows he’s going to be ok on his own. Not her other kittens though. They clearly still need her.

She comes and yowls at Genesis and Angeal when Seph and Cloud need something she can't get them. She yowls at Genesis to go hunting with her to provide for the babies, and at Angeal to figure out what's wrong when they won't eat the nice mice she brings them.

She accepts Zack as a puppy, disciplines him, and comforts him when needed, but her attention belongs to her tall baby and her baby birb first.

Her new sons are idiots, but they’re HER idiots.

Sephiroth calls her “Mother Cat”. Cloud calls her “Cat”. Genesis insists she needs a REAL name (it’s only decent), and writes down "Serafina" on the vet papers. Sephiroth falls in love with him all over again.

If either Sephiroth or Cloud starts hyperventilating, she comes and sits on her boy and purrs until he calms down. If they ignore important things like feeding time or petting-the-cat time, she starts kneading her paws. If they still ignore her, she brings out the claws. She’s not shy about making sure they take care of her and then themselves.

She nips Zack when one of her boys is overstimulated and he's too loud.

She hisses nonstop at the vacuum and stands between it and her babies until they take her to another apartment, at which point she bathes them until they (and she) calm down.

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Hi Serafina. Is one of them being an idiot?

Serafina: YOWL. *walks to the dining table*

Sephiroth: *hunched over a pile of manuscripts, hair a mess, muttering*

Serafina: YOWL.

Angeal: Seph, honey, have you been up all night again?

Sephiroth: …it’s…morning? Wh- *voice cracks* -at day?

Angeal: Wednesday.

Sephiroth: Oh *cough* just one night then.

Angeal: And you haven’t had water since…? Actually, don’t answer that. Clean up your papers, you need to eat, hydrate, and sleep. No, no arguing. Serafina is worried, you need to reassure her.

Sephiroth: Oh! Of course.

—--

Serafina: YOWL.

Genesis: Yes, my Lady Serafina?

Serafina: YOWL. *leads him to the front door, where Cloud is swaying and trying to put on his boots*

Genesis: Cloud Strife, when was the last time you ate?

Cloud: h-Huh? Gen? When did you get here?

Genesis: Eat. When.

Cloud: ummmmm…breakfast?

Genesis: Yesterday?

Cloud: ……maybe?

Genesis: Sit down before you fall down. You know mako enhancements require more calories. No, stay there and I’ll get you a shake and a bar. Yes, I know you have work. You won’t be any use passed out or dead. Now thank your second mother for saving your life. *stomps off huffily*

#ff7 #sephiroth #zack fair #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #emotional support mom cat #the idiots need her

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sapphire-weapon · 9 months

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not having the ability to play vidya until my new D drive comes in on Wednesday has me just sitting here thinking about a whole bunch of my headcanons for Leon.

thinking about how his very religious/spiritual mom doesn’t understand why she hasn’t “felt” the presence of her son since his death. like, when her own father died, she claimed that he visited her in dreams every once in a while and, in quiet moments, just could sense that he was still there with her somehow, watching over her. but not once has Leon’s spirit ever deigned to visit or reach out or make himself known. she wonders, “was I truly so horrible of a mother that he’s abandoned me even in death?”

what she doesn’t know is that ghosts aren’t real in the RE universe and what’s actually going on is that her mother’s intuition knows, on some level, that there’s no way that Leon just went to Raccoon City and died. she may not have truly Gotten Him as a person, but she’s still his mom and she still knows him -- and some very deeply hidden and buried part of her knows that he’s still out there, somewhere. but that’s somehow an even more painful thought to have, so she rationalizes it as “his spirit is trapped” or “his spirit won’t visit.”

until one day, some 20 years after his “death,” Leon’s dad is watching the news and there’s a whole thing about a Congressional committee that was formed to get to the bottom of the link between bioterrorism and corruption at the highest levels of the federal government -- and the new Director of the DSO has been subpoenaed and will be forced to testify in front of Congress. to be more specific -- Director Leon S. Kennedy, a long-time veteran in the fight against bioterrorism and one of the most highly-respected figures across federal law enforcement today.

Leon’s mom is in the kitchen cooking dinner, and his dad says loud enough for her to hear, in a very deadpan tone: “huh. you know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that that was your kid, honey. he looks old now, though.”

she just sort of furrows her brow in confusion, puts down what she’s doing, and wanders into the next room to see what the hell her husband is talking about -- because, for all of his terrible sense of humor, this was one thing that he never joked about.

she takes one look at Leon’s photo on the screen and just starts screaming horrible, bloody murder. Leon’s dad just kind of shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV and says nonchalantly and matter-of-factly: “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get our money back for his tombstone. probably no ‘actually not dead’ clause in the contract. should have read it more closely before signing on the dotted line.”

and that is how his parents learn that their son is, in fact, still alive.

#and then they watch that hearing with a growing sense of horror #as leon shocks the world when he admits to being a survivor of raccoon city #and is forced to dig through all of his horrible trauma from that night #and recount the events as they're relevant #at one point he's asked what happened to the other still-living people he met in the city #and his voice cracks as he's forced to say out loud for the first time in his life 'i couldn't save them'#this whole news story is eventually drowned out by the flood of thirst posts that spread across social media about him #no one in the country cares what he's actually revealing because they're too busy calling him daddy #one girl on twitter goes viral for her tweet: 'holy shit i know him. best sex i ever had. this feels so weird.'#and then at the end of it all #his parents are faced with the decision whether to go down to DC and force their way back into his life #or let it go and accept that they have no place there anymore

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msgexymunson · 2 months

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Brand Spanking New

Description: You unlock a new kink with your boyfriend Eddie: Spanking.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I will clobber you (and not in a good way), established relationship, sub fem reader x dom Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, p in v unprotected sex, rough but aftercare

A/N: My phone keeps changing the word ‘spanking’ to ‘Spanish’. Don't you know me at all???? Also just trying to break writer's block by slamming out a lil smutty smut. Enjoy!

Reblogs and comments supply the oil that keeps the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart running.

1.2k words

Masterlist

Grinding hot and heavy in his lap, your lips slip against his, sucking at the bottom one to attempt to satiate the need to have something of his inside of you. He’s groaning loud in your mouth, firm hands gripping into the flesh of your bare thighs for dear life, need radiating out of every subtle thrust of his hips.

It's too much for him suddenly, the need spilling out as he taps your leg to silently ask you to lay down. If you feel the slight tap, you don't let it affect you, continuing your harsh grinding motions over his heavy bulge.

His lips lose contact with yours, trailing burning kisses to your neck, as he whispers deeply in your ear.

“Lay down baby girl.”

How can you when it feels this good? When the shape of his dick is rubbing against your panties, the gusset sodden with your slick.

His hand leaves your thigh, but only briefly. The crack of sound happens first, bursting in the air. The pain shoots up your leg moments later. Then, the realisation hits your brain. He hit your thigh. Hell, he spanked you.

And you liked it.

Time seems to stop as you gasp, locking eyes with him.

“You liked that, didn't you?” That age old self satisfied smirk of his tugs at his face muscles as you pull your lips into a tight line, attempting to hide the raw desire that simple gesture had ignited in you.

“What makes you say that?”

Without a further word, his hand cracks down again, your thigh jiggling with the force. A desperate, ragged moan pushes out of your chest.

“That.” He says smugly. “Hands and knees. Now.”

The spell of his words have you acting without thinking, bending to his will with an empty mind and parted knees.

“Just like that, good job baby girl.”

Crack! His large hand lands again, this time on the supple skin of your ass, body nearly falling with the shock of it. Eddie's fingers dig into your hips, forcing you back into position.

Crack! This time on the other cheek, a pornographic moan expelling from your chest so fast it hurts your throat.

“Fuck, you do like that, don't you,” he says as his fingers rub at the wet spot on your panties. Moaning, you arch your back, moving into the touch of his fingertips.

Crack! Again, a stinging blow that rips another groan from you.

“I asked you a question,” his voice is hard, but the faintest sign of amusement clings to it like a gossamer web.

Y-yeah, yes, I do Eddie, please-”

Fresh air hits your cunt as he pulls down your underwear, strings of your arousal refusing to let go of them.

“Fuuuuck,” he says, fingers whispering through your wetness, spreading it around, “didn't know you wanted it like this. Was trying to be all sweet with you.”

The next thing you hear is the jingling of his belt as he slips off his jeans and boxers. Wiggling in anticipation you back up a little, begging to feel the tip of his length.

“Hey, stay still,” he says, using his swollen dick to tap at your clit, “or I'll just cum all over this ass instead. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.”

The sharp intake of breath and the sudden feeling of him crowding your back tell you all you need to know.

“If I'd known all it took to get you obedient was a few spanks I'd have been smacking you around for months… Wait, no, that doesn't sound right.”

You can't help but giggle, but it's swallowed whole by the feel of his member swirling around your entrance, gathering slick. Then, he pushes into you, mutual moans dragged out by the feel of him sliding against your quivering walls.

Rough fingertips hold you steady as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You OK baby girl?”

“Uh huh,” you manage, eyebrows knitted with the sheer stretch.

“You know I really care about you, right?”

“Yeah?” You respond, nearly a question as you tilt your head to try and get a look at him over your shoulder.

“Good, ‘cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't.”

There's no further warning, just the harsh grip of blunt fingernails denting into your hips and powerful thrusts forcing you closer to the mattress with each push. Each move makes your eyes roll back and whimpering sounds spill from kiss bitten lips.

“Come on, stay up, atta girl.”

His voice is steady, just a few puffing breaths like he's on some Sunday morning jog and not pounding you into next week. Its punctuated by a fiercer slap to the side of your ass that makes your pussy convulse.

Arms shaking with effort, you try to stay up, but the pounding rhythm is too much. There's just too much Eddie. Eddie, forcing his fingers into you hard enough to bruise, Eddie, grunting meanly with each thrust, Eddie, his cock grinding into your sweet spot so hard it almost hurts. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

You don't even realise that you're chanting his name over and over until you hear him chuckle behind you.

“That's it, keep saying my name. And. Stay. Up.”

Each word is punctuated by a drive forward that ripples through your body in waves, the sound of him gritting his teeth while he says it making you wetter by the second.

“I- I can't, y- you're making me- fuck.”

He laughs mirthlessly, humping into you even harder somehow, and winds his fingers into your hair, pulling it by the root.

“Aww, have I fucked you dumb princess? You gonna come?”

Words are beyond you, not even able to nod your head due to his tight grip. Seconds later you're screaming your release so high and loud you'd be surprised if no one called the police. It certainly felt like a near death experience, your vision darkening and fuzziness expanding through your limbs.

It's not long before Eddie's yanking you upright and groaning into your ear as he looses his load deep in your cunt.

He sits back on his heels, pulling you close so you can perch in his lap. Gone is the dominant, mean side. Your Eddie is back; stroking your hair and making soothing noises as he wipes stray tears you didn't even know had fallen.

“You OK sweetheart?” He asks, voice brimming with concern.

“Hmmmm.” It's nearly a purr, still incapable of speech.

“You just lay down right here, that's it, arms here, lemme grab a cloth.”

Coming back moments later, he cleans you up and offers you some water.

“Sorry if I went overboard princess.” He sounds almost sheepish as he says it, a blossom of embarrassed colouring tattooing his cheeks.

“No, you didn't, honestly. I think I could sleep for a week though.” Giggling, you lace sleepy fingers with his.

“Good, ‘cause there's other stuff I think you'd like.”

You're not even sure you heard him right, eyes drooping already.

“Other stuff?”

“Shhh, sleep baby girl, I don't wanna scare you just yet.” he chuckles, kissing your temple as you drift off to the feeling of his fingers carding through your hair.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #dom!eddie munson #dom eddie #dom eddie x sub reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x fem reader #eddie my beloved

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forlix · 5 months

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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.”

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?”

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

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gojoest · 10 months

Text

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (you’re married), creampie, somno if you squint, calls you angel, basically gojo cumming on the spot

you’re pulled out of dreamland by a loud moan filling the room from the spot behind you in bed. if it weren’t for the soft pecks tickling down the side of your neck, you would’ve thought your husband was having a steamy dream. but that’s not the case.

“nghh… satoru?”, you growl.

“finally. i’ve been moaning for the past 15 minutes in hopes to wake my hibernating bear up”, he breathes into your ear, “turns out”, he continues while pushing his lower body against yours, carefully adjusting his hardness between the crack of your ass, “it’s mating season”

“oh. that.”

again.

you often go to bed spooned with him enveloped around you like a cape — his left arm wrapped possessively over your side, elbow by your navel and his hand resting on your breast. his other arm passing under the right side of your waist with the palm and fingers tenderly placed on your shoulder. and in order to engulf you completely — satoru throws a leg over yours.

as uncomfortable as this position might sound, it actually brings both of you a sense of warmth and security. you feel protected in his huge arms while he’s at ease to have you there, safe and untouchable, like he’s your infinity — whatever comes to harm you, has to go through him first. you asked him once why he always wraps himself around you like that and the answer was one only he could come up with “to protect you in case the ceiling comes crashing down while we sleep”. you laughed, telling him to come up with a better excuse next time. he was dead serious though.

but often times spooning like this leads to something more, especially during summer nights when the both of you sleep naked, when it’s just flesh against flesh and his cock ends up hugged between the cheeks of your ass and his growing hardness forces him out of slumber.

“yes. that. pretty please? really want you right now…”, he coos, moving his hips slowly to place his cock between your legs, squeezed between your thighs, head poking out in front and tip leaking beggingly as if to reflect his plea.

you play your fingers on it, letting the precum smudge against your skin, “if you ask so nicely…”, you tease, moving your lower body back and forth to slide his dick along your pussy lips, smearing the flow of your own wetness all over it.

“fuck…”, he hisses, squeezing his ass cheeks and pushing against you in sync with your movements, “really wanna be inside you now”. his voice comes out needy, body covered in sweat from head to toe holding back until yours is completely prepared for love making, for taking all of him.

you tap your hand on his leg that’s still resting on top of yours, signaling to move it. after he complies, you lift yours slightly and guide him into you with your hand, pushing him slowly in. the gasp seeping from his mouth as he enters you is like music to your ears and knowing he’s been desperately waiting for this moment as his body twitches from the pleasure, is sending a tingling sensation through your abdomen and providing an extra flow of wetness between your legs.

“this— “, he grunts, stretching you slowly, feeling you around him as you take him inch by inch, “is where i truly belong”

“i’ll make sure to keep you there then”, you whisper breathily and put your hand between your legs to prevent him from slipping out, “see? all safe now”

to say this was his breaking point would be an understatement. a loud grunt fills your shared bedroom as he fervently bucks his hips into you three times before burying himself deep and erupting, filling you load after load.

“damn. you got me there, angel”, he chuckles breathily under his nose, head falling between the crook of your neck and shoulder to further hide his embarrassment in the already dark room, “you really just ruined your husband’s reputation by making him cum like a virgin after just a few strokes?”

“as if that’s never happened before”, you tease.

“give me a few seconds and you’re not sleeping tonight”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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wineauntie · 25 days

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ALWAYS YOU— luke hughes x reader

summary: you are the sun and Luke Hughes is in desperate need of some light.

note: I literally started writing this when tonight’s game ended (it’s 4am for me!). So please excuse any and all grammar mishaps!

warnings: fluff, luke hughes in love, nicknames like pretty boy, use of y/n.

word count: 1k+

throughly unedited due to it being 4am and the fact I wrote this half-asleep, please ignore mistakes :))

“Oh, Luke…”

Your boyfriend of two years, Luke Hughes stumbled into your arms from his place in the doorway to your apartment, his eyes shallowed with exhaustion as you opened your arms for him to fall into.

His body crashed into yours as you nudged your door closed with your foot, embracing Luke tightly. You weren’t tall at all in comparison to the 6’2 giant, who had to bend to lean into your warmth, so despite standing on the tops of your toes, feeling the ache run through your legs, you pushed through it and continued to hold him.

Tonight had been rough.

Losing 4-3 to the Rangers after the chaos of the first period, (with a record breaking 162 total minutes in penalties), this game was the last straw to fall in Luke’s mind. You see, Luke was good at hockey—great even, but he wasn’t a machine. He had those days where no matter how hard he’d try, the game never exactly went the way he needed it to go.

Tonight was one of those days.

And each thing that went askew built up and up until it was all just too much.

With over 30 minutes of ice time under his belt for the game, two game losses in a row, a team verbal lashing from their coaches along a silent and cold shower, the only thing Luke craved was to crawl home to you.

You and your effervescent comfort and joy that radiated.

To him, you were the sun, bright and well-loved, an asset needed to sustain all life. And perhaps the world couldn’t recognise you to be such, however Luke knew deep in his bones that a life without was you not a life he wished to live. Not even a life he wished to dwell upon.

You squeezed onto Luke as tight as possible, your own eyes shutting as he buried his head into the supple skin between your neck and shoulder. His arms had folded around you, holding you closer to his trembling body. You let him take what he needed, your comfort offered up to him in its simplest form, ready to be moulded into what he needed.

Luke wanted to let your rays envelop all of the darkness he felt beginning to blossom in his mind, he wanted to bask in the light of your unwavering love.

You were the reason he woke every morning with a sheepish smile, the reason his days were brighter and his heart fuller. He may not say it out loud in front of others in fear of being mocked, but you were the reason he kept going.

Not hockey, not the game, not some scores– only you.

Was you, is you and always will be you.

“How about we order food in, pretty boy?” You hummed lightly, your fingers brushing through his wild curls, as your other hand held him tight. “You must be starving.”

Luke nodded stiffly against your skin, unmoving form his position as he held you. You didn’t force him to answer verbally whilst he breathed in your solace, merely humming in acknowledgement as you continued to allow your fingers to card through his hair.

“If you need a shower, I have fresh towels and clothes for you in my room,” you mumbled, keeping your chin propped on his shoulder. “And if you need–”

Luke murmured something against your neck, so muffled that you couldn’t quite catch what he’d said.

“Hm?” You tilted your head so your nose brushed the shell of his ear.

“I had a shower there…I only need you,” Luke hoarsely spoke, his grip shifting and tightening as your heart melted. “Always need you.”

“You have me,” you promised quietly, your face pressing into his shoulder. You felt his body shudder as you kissed the pale skin that peeked out from his hoodie. “You’ll always have me.”

“Can we just watch a movie and sleep?” His soft voice cracked as he finally lifted his head to meet your eyes. You heart cracked open in your chest at the sight of defeat and pure tiredness present in the eyes you loved.

“Of course,” you smiled, as his hands moved to cup your face. “I’ll order food while you change and then we can chill on the couch or in bed for as long as you want.”

Luke nodded wordlessly, his head ducking to press a soft, pillowy kiss to your lips, his grip firm but loving as he kissed you. You found your hands settling amongst the curls at the base of his neck as you hummed lightly into the kiss.

Pulling away, his teary eyes met yours once more.

“I don’t deserve you,” he suddenly mumbled, his thumb caressing your cheek as he spoke in rushed words. “You should just break up with me and–”

“Keep talking like that Hughes and I’ll kick you into next week,” you interrupted sternly, forcing Luke to suppress an exhausted smile at your sharp response.

You were the sun after all, bright and warm but at it’s core– fiery, (…and very hot, in Luke’s opinion).

“You deserve to be loved, so let me,” you chided, your forehead pressing against his as he dropped his chin to his chest. “There is no one I would rather love, no one more worthy of it.”

Without another word, Luke sighed and nodded once more, his eyes glancing towards the small living room. Watching him, you smiled, waiting for his gaze to return to yours and when it did you watched him redden under your eyes.

“I rented Secretariat,” you told him, “so why don’t you go and get changed, we have a whole lot of nothing to go and do.”

“I love you,” his voice raw with emotion as he continued to cling to you.

“I love you too,” you answered with a hum, “and I meant it, there’s no one I would rather love than you. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I won’t,” he whispered, “and for the record, loving you was the easiest and greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

a/n: Tonight’s game was chaos in its finest form (I hate the rangers)

#wineauntie #nhl x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #new jersey devils

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confused-wanderer · 1 month

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I’m not seeing lots of people acknowledging the sheer impact Jason’s death had on Dick, not only the manner of his death but also all the events surrounding it.

The first time is when Dick returns from a harrowing mission off-planet, bleeding with many bones definitely broken, but his fingers have been tapping his screen well before they leave the planet.

Everyone has noticed it. Starfire’s been shooting worried glances over to Wally, fingers hesitantly hovering over the trembling boy who flinched at contact earlier. Wally’s eyes are trained to Dick’s leg that has been bouncing way too much in the past second, matching the amount of ragged breaths Nightwing has been forcing into his lungs, fingers clenched so tightly onto the phone the speedster could’ve sworn the glass has started cracking.

There was a reason Dick was uneasy for the mission, he’d admitted as much to Wally earlier, remarking that something about the whole thing was.. off. Something that made him so uneasy to his stomach he wanted to vomit out his intestines to get a moment of relief. Wally hadn’t connected the dots then. He didn’t think Dick had either. But here they both were, unsure if this moment was actually reality or just a memory from the past they were reliving.

The moment they finally get signal, Dick’s breath hitches. His first call goes not to Bruce, not to a doctor, but Tim.

Dick’s trying to keep the shaking out of his voice, he can feel his heartbeat rising, panic causing the phone to shake as the dial tone stretches on, and all Dick can think of is another coffin awaiting him when he gets back. He all but sobs in relief when Tim picks up.

“Hello? You need anything Dick? Bruce’s out right now”

He can’t bring himself to answer or speak, simply inhaling in the fact that Tim was alive. Thank god.

Thank god thank fucking anything that kept his little brother alive.

Every moment he heard movement on the other side of the call, he was drinking in every moment like a man parched. He hangs up ten minutes later, shooting Tim a quick text about it being a butt-dial before looking up at Wally, and everyone else who hadn’t left his side.

“Al-a..Ali..v..Aliv-alive”

He can’t even say it out loud before he breaks down, the world crashing around him as all he can do is fall to his knees, bow his head and sob to the heavens for forgiveness from Jason.

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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(2) the curse of living in a small town | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: allusions to sex (didn’t happen, r just misunderstands), discussion of w&n undressing r while she was drunk bc r threw up on them, slight angst, two separate minor injuries (r), blood mention, mentions to past drunkenness (r), incorrect scared horse description?

a/n: in true me fashion this is published without being proofread. so excuse my choppy ass writing lmao

The sheets wrapped around you were too warm, and it often pulled you back to sleep. Any time you begin to stir, all you had to do was twist your body and you were falling asleep again. The sun was high in the sky by the time you actually opened your eyes.

The curtains were closed, but the air conditioning would push the corners so they’d flip up and let the light in. It didn’t take long to recognize that the room you were in was not a room you recognized.

You froze, dread piling within you as you took in each individual difference between the room you were in versus the one back at your grandparents. The coats hung behind the door, pictures laid on the vanity in front of you, a hand-made blanket thrown across the edge of the bed frame. Not to mention the smell—though pleasant—it was unrecognizable.

It took looking down at your current sleep wear to make you freak out. It wasn’t yours.

Everything on top and underneath wasn’t yours. Your heart rate seems faster than normal when you crack the door open. It’s quiet, and a sign for you to run out the door.

Your feet are bare, so the sound of the bottom of your foot sticking when it picks off the floor is embarrassingly loud. You’ve almost reached the first floor, feet about to meet the halfway mark on the stairs when you hear a voice beside you.

No rational thought came to mind as you rush down the stairs. Your left foot slips and you miscalculate the distance between the last step and the bench sitting across from you. It collided into the bench’s leg with a solid thud.

The wind gets knocked out of you, forcing you to hunch over and wait for the sting to leave. You don’t want to see who’s greeted you, ignoring it even as you miserably make it to the front door.

Across from you in the middle of their yard is Natasha. Though with how fuzzy last night was, she’s become a stranger to you. You turn to the left and book it towards the one thing you recognize at the moment, your grandparents home. You hear her call out to you, but you don’t waste any time running through the warm grass. All emotions related to embarrassment, regret, and shame fill you and force your adrenaline to kick it into overdrive.

Your grandma’s having a field day, laughing as she sees you through the kitchen window. She calls her husband over, the sight of you in almost nothing cracking him up hit he attempts to save your dignity.

He opens the door for you, not saying anything because he knew you’d rush past him and shut yourself in a room. Which is exactly what you did.

“That’s pretty early for a night owl like her,” your grandma laughs, looking to your grandpa. He has a sympathetic look on his face, still looking off where you ran up the stairs.

“I feel bad, honey.“

“It’s not that I don’t feel bad, I just think she’s a grown adult. She choose to get drunk, I’m sure she’s just embarrassed to find out she drunkenly cried over someone congratulating her for graduating college.”

That’s not the reason why you felt embarrassed. You had zero chance of knowing what happened last night until you talked to one of them. Confrontation wasn’t your strength, avoidance was. That’s why you’re caught up in this mess with your boss at work, you can’t tell him to give you a raise because you’re afraid of getting fired.

That’s how you feel now. You’re afraid of asking what happened last night because you’re scared of the possible situation. There’s no obvious physical signs of anything happening other than your clothes being changed. That being said, you still left your clothes over there. At this point, they can keep them.

The picture frames that covered the walls were photos from their marriage. Them smiling, a few of them kissing. It was beautiful and you were terrified you were to ruin it, what they have, after last night. Your home was even quieter than theirs, that was until your mother had begun to bang against your door.

“Get dressed, you’re coming with me into town.”

You realize then that all of your sudden movement from earlier catches up to you. Your mother realizes it too and thankfully allows you to sleep in more. After a few home remedies you’re feeling better, but not fully healed. When she finds you in bed at 3PM, she’s hurrying into your bedroom and pushing you to get out

“Tomorrow?”

“No,” she pulls the sheets off the bed, “fall for stupid tricks get stupid consequences, come on.“

You shy away from the laughs coming from your brother and grandparents when you make it downstairs. There was a small tray in the kitchen with a varying fruits. A small sticky note beside it with a personalized message towards you, telling you to take whatever’s left.

“Want to visit the diner in town? I’d like to visit my friend for a minute, you can get lunch?”

Your mom navigates the plans, pushing beside you. You make a small plate and grab more meds from the pharmacy tray in the furthest cabinet to the left.

“I don’t care, mom.”

She grabs the keys off a small hook and wonders off outside. Her actions telling you get yourself in the car within the next few minutes. You bother finds himself stumbling into the kitchen, “to set the record straight, I won.”

“Fuck off,” you mumble, grabbing your phone and tumbling out the door. Your mom pulled the car out front with the window’s down.

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

“We’re going down St Peters?”

“You’re still sobering. I’m scared you’ll pull the door open and fly out.”

“Mom,” you point towards where the city is, “the streets are 25, it’s slow. Just go.”

She still replayed her comeback to you, going on about how over drinking is terrible for you. Meanwhile her yapping was making everything hurt worse. You rest your head against the window as best as you can, trying to be mindful of the constant bumps due to the rock road.

“—you had cried like a baby.”

“I did what?”

“Cried last night.”

You groan, “I can’t believe I did that.”

“You did a lot of things,” she says eventually once you’ve gotten onto the road. Her sentence doesn’t help the downfall of emotions you’ve been experiencing since this morning.

“Have anybody in your sights lately?”

“Nope, still single.”

She prods further, asking, “are you going to get married? I don’t care how or when, just sometime before I die so I can have grandchildren.”

“I understand. You’ll be the first to know if I find someone.”

She turns down the street, onto where the most amount of buildings lie unless you want to drive for hours. It’s a thirty minute drive, decent enough to get what you’re needing. Food, supplies, send mail, or to set up market. There was a spot in front of the town’s diner, the one your mom chose and the one right by where a certain someone’s car was parked as well.

You climb out of the car, unsuspecting and following your mom into the diner. She pulls away from you almost immediately to talk to her friend who’s sat at a booth towards the back. You thought to introduce yourself, include yourself in the conversation between an old acquaintance. The both just behind her was where Natasha was, your eyes finding hers. You grew defensive, turning on your heel to sit at the bar instead.

The lady behind the counter takes your brisk order. The look on her face is also wondering why you’re this bothered by her presence. If it were a one night stand, it’s fine, they happen. Usually they don’t and with one running out into the field barefoot though.

She hands you the tea you ordered. You’re sure your expression is still tense judging by the fact her eyes never leave you until she’s rounded the corner. Whether she’s concerned, or noisy, it doesn’t matter. If she could tell you’re tense, you’re sure Natasha can tell if she so much looks your way.

You’re unsure about why, but you look over your shoulder. It was with a purpose to look at your mother, but you glued onto her again and freaked when you saw her get closer. Hands growing sweaty around the cold drink in your hands when she sits beside you. She wastes no time getting straight to the point, narrowing you with a stare.

“Why’d you run off this morning?”

The conversation you’ve been dreading was unraveling. You keep your eyes on the old tv, not sparing her a glance. She doesn’t budge. You finally turn towards her, meeting her stare, “do I know you?”

It was a complete lie that she seemed to beleive for a split second. She backed up, giving you enough space and time for your mother to come back. You were gone by the time she put the pieces together. The way you looked back at her, nervously swallowed when she got close, and sat still when she spoke to you. You definitely recognized her.

You ran into them again at the market a day later. Whoever they went, you copied, hiding behind anything you could to avoid being seen.

You ran into them again when Natasha was getting gas at the station you liked off Westview. You went above and beyond to push your seat back, putting yourself out of the span of her line of sight.

You ran into them everywhere. The only place they had yet to wonder into was your grandparents land. It felt like your safe zone, the area where they couldn’t roam.

That proved to be wrong when you crept into the stable at sundown, visiting the newer addition to the stable. You met him a day ago when your grandfather took you out to see him for the first time.

You sat in the corner of his pen on a stool, watching as he ate the feed you poured into his food mound into. Your grandfather mentioned needing him to get used to new people as they wanted to train and sell him eventually to a rider.

“Why’re you up so late?” wanda had asked almost as if she came out of nowhere. It startled you and the sound your hand made when it hit his feeder had him freaking out as well. Wanda’s quick to unlatch the door, pulling you into her. The wooden edge caught onto your skin, dragging and pulling it until it bled.

“Thank yo—“

“No need, my apologies for scaring you,” she looks towards the terrified horse, “and him”

“Ah no worries, he gets scared often,” you brush the hay off of your jeans, “why’re you in here?”

“We bought half the stable two years ago.”

Of course they did.

“Oh.”

“Guessing your ma didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head, reaching an arm out to slide it down the side of his snout, bringing him to eventually stand still. She waits patiently beside you, looking between you and the horse.

“Got yourself cut there?”

“I did?“

Her fingers weave under your arm, pulling it up and showing you the slice your arm took a minute ago. She looks saddened, “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“It’s just a small cut. I barely even knew it was there I’m so immune to them.”

She doesn’t look pleased. She invites you to her house, and you want her to leave. It’s not her, it’s you. You can still feel your nerves spike after all these days when you see them time after time again. Going back to their house would mean you’d have to see how the two of them are doing, and lately, they haven’t been in the same room.

If there’s one thing you remember from last night, was that they came together and were almost wrapped in each other’s arms.

“At least let me cleanse it before anything tries to infect it.”

You agree and she sits you down on the chair in the tack room, coming back a second later with a small bag. The cut did not draw any attention to you when it happened, but you’re thankful she noticed or else the blood could’ve spread onto your clothes or anything else you touched.

Neither one says anything while she rubs disinfectant on the gash. The horses in their stalls were making much more noise in how they huff and walk around. Being cooped up in a little cell would drive you crazy. Like being cooped up in this room with Wanda was suffocating.

“Have you had any meds since last night?”

“Yes,” you rush to look away when she glances at you, “ma has a supply in her cabinets.”

“Good.”

Oh my gosh you want to run back into the house and stay in there until you fly back to New York. She’s entirely calm and her fingers are steady, something you’re trying to copy.

“If you need anything, come visit.”

It was the undertone of her statement that confused you. It was inviting. She put the cotton pad into the trash, coming back to sit beside you. Her fingers were so gentle, hovering over your skin and unintentionally giving you chills.

“Thank you.”

Her smile so soft. She finishes putting the small bandage over your arm and walks back out to put it away. You don’t want to run now, partially because you’re with the one who’ll lay the truth down in a kinder way.

“What happened last night.”

You know she heard you when she laughs out loud, the sound light and airy. It confused you, bringing you to ask more questions. She motions for you to leave the room, the key going into the lock after.

“You got drunk and cried if Natasha or I tried to leave. We all decided it would be best if we just brought you to our house for the night. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow. Natasha heard you being sick late into the night, I believe it was 3AM? She left to help you—“

“That’s a wonderful story,” you cut her off in hopes to not hear the rest, but you’re incredibly relieved to find you hadn’t slept with them that night, “I am so terribly sorry you had to deal with that.”

“If you’d like your clothes from last night back they’re folded in our laundry room.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We wanted to.”

You walk past the first few stables to grab your phone off the table you had set it on when you walked in. You flit it into your back pocket, “would you be alright if I stopped by to grab my clothes tonight?”

“Not at all.”

The front gate to the stable shuts. Wanda pulls a small flashlight, shining the light to help you both walk back towards their house. Her eyes were focused ahead, shorter hair covering half of her side profile.

“When I first met you, how long had you been married?”

“About three years,” she explains, “we got married in the summer.”

“The pictures in your home are beautiful.”

She thanks you, walking ahead to open the door to her estate for the both of you. The moon’s full, providing enough light that almost puts the flashlight to shame. It shows the shorter path ahead of you, marked by dried dirt and stones.

The door to their home opens and Natasha walks to stand in the doorway. The two greet each other with a kiss, whispering small pleasantries. It’s only for a second, but it singles you out and makes you feel you’re imposing. Natasha holds the door for you to enter, letting the screen door swing shut once you’ve all entered.

Wanda walks you through their house towards the laundry room, indirectly giving you a tour of everything you ran past in a blur that morning. The emerald green backsplash in their kitchen and wooden cabinets. Little miscellaneous items thrown about like a stack of papers and a random hair clip.

“Here,” she peeks into the laundry room, setting the clothes onto your open arms, “sorry they’re all cold, I promise they were warm this morning.”

You laugh awkwardly, the shy sound getting cut off from Natasha calling for Wanda from another room. You two found Natasha standing in the living room, holding an opened envelope. Shreds of paper were on the floor, results of her careless attempts of opening the letter.

“Why are we still getting mail from the Parsons? We finished their payment last week.”

Wanda takes it from her hands, scanning over the letter for only a second, “it’s possible they’ve forgotten, they’re entirely too old.”

Natasha mumbles under her breath and goes to place it with the other thrown about papers on their dining room table.

“I’m probably going to head out now,” you look behind yourself, ensuring that you’re actually walking backwards towards the door, “thank you for everything.”

“Course, angel. Have a good night.”

You smile, feeling like you’re being drowned underwater as you step down the porch. Their conversation can be heard even as you’re halfway down their driveway, the screen door doing nothing to separate building from the rest of the world.

You grow cold as you walk back home, the light and warmth their home brought escaping you with each step you took walking away from them. It’s loud back at your grandparent’s home, most everyone is situated in the backyard, but a few remain in the living room.

Your aunt greets you first, asking where you were before asking if you could help your brother with the dessert since apparently he’s “still recovering from last night.” You doubt that but you’re in no mood to fight.

Your grandparents are sitting on a one person couch. Legs are intertwined and hands held and it brings back a memory from last night in their home when you were laid over Natasha’s waist in a similar position. You leave the room with an aching feeling in your chest.

There’s times when you were unsure of how you were feeling. The reason why you felt off sometimes never making itself known. You were home with family, a plate with crumbs laid on the table between you all. It was fine, you were safe and in a warm building with food and water and everything necessary.

When the lights turned off in the house and everyone had gone to bed, you still felt a tight squeeze in your chest. You labeled it as a combination of so much happening the past couple of days, and the fact you drank more than usual just the night before. When you climbed in bed, you fell asleep looking at the little lit-up house down the road.

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

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Aegon Targaryen*Daughter

Pairing: aegon x mum!reader

Word count: 1904

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, aegon having a bad reaction, absent father, mentions of alcholism and drug abuse, mentions of birth/morning sickness, aegon coming back

Part one here or read alone

Masterlist Here

“Pregnant? You can’t be- you’re not- how?” you sat back as Aegon shot up from your bed, instantly pacing the bedroom as he tried to come to terms with it. you couldn’t blame him you suppose. After all you’d spent a whole week trying to convince yourself it was a lie and your roommate had to literally slap some sense into you. “But we were so safe?”

“Condoms aren’t perfect I guess,”

“But you were on the pill,”

“Its only like 90 something percent effective, look I don’t know,” you let out an exasperated sigh as Aegon looked at you with eyes bulging out his skull.

He walked over and picked up the test, “Maybe you did it wrong,”

“I didn’t do it wrong Aegon I did 20 of them!” you snapped, instantly regretting it as he sunk down on the bed next to you.

You went to speak but he finally broke the silence but broke your heart at the same time, “You’re getting rid of it right?” ‘it’. the words hit like a brick colliding with glass.

“I hadn’t decided yet,” you admitted in a quite voice but loud enough for Aegon to rub his hands over his eyes before dropping his head between his knees, “But we’ll figure it out Aegon. We’ll make it work,” you told him, trying to rub his back but he snapped back up.

“Maybe you can,” he said, his voice cracking, “Not me. I can’t be a dad. Look at me!” he said, standing up and pointing to himself like he was an exhibition, “I am a fucking mess I can’t raise a kid! Ill break it!” he said as he started to pace again.

“They’re not it!” you yelled back standing up too.

“Don’t yell at me!” he screamed as he turned around, his eyes instantly softening when he saw you stepping back, “I’m so- “

“Get out,” you managed to grit out through clenched teeth, “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Leave. Now,”

Aegon paused, his hand half reached out to try comfort you before he sighed and turned around. He headed to the door with his head hung low, “If you need me to go to the doctors- “he started to mumble as he reached for the door handle.

“I won’t need you. ever. You’ve made that clear enough,” you forced the words out your mouth even though they burned you to even saw them. You saw his heart shatter, but you didn’t care as you laid a hand on your stomach.

Telling your parents was defiantly not something you looked forward to. You told your best friend Heleana first who offered to fly out the next weekend to see you, but you insisted you were fine. She however insisted on being there to tell your parents to make sure you were okay. the whole time you refused to tell her who the father was.

“Who’s the dad?” your mother asked after a very long and teary-eyed conversation.

Your eyes wandered to Heleana. She reached for your hand and tried to say something, but you cut her off, “I’m so sorry Hel,” you whispered making her tilt her head. You cleared your throat and spoke up so they could all hear, “Its Aegon,”

Heleana’s grip on your hand loosened as her eyes fell to the floor. For a moment you thought you’d lost her too btu then you felt her hand squeeze yours again, “What did he say?” she asked but she could tell from the look on your face, “I will fucking kill him,”

It was the first time you’d heard her swear but not the last time it was brought up when discussing Aegon. You ended up telling her the full story later that night and she was ready to fly out and kill him. the only issue was no one knew where he was. Alicent was used to that by now though you could see it begin to weigh on her know he’d been gone for 3 months.

You however were now 4 months pregnant, postponing school, and unable to hide it any longer. “Alicent?” you asked as you awkwardly shuffled into the room with Aemond and Heleana behind you as backup. Aemond had sussed it out pretty quickly though was equally shocked by the father when you told him.

Alicent smiled at you from where she sat on the sofa reading her novel, “Is everything alright dear?”

“I need to tell you something,”

Alicent was silent as she processed it all before suddenly taking your hands with a teary smile but a happy one still, “Thank you for telling me sweetheart. Its going to be okay,” And for a while it was. Well, if you didn’t mind the morning sickness and ballooning to the size of a small house. That and still no one had heard from Aegon.

Heleana had helped pick out the decorations for the nursery in your new flat. Yes, a new flat paid for by Alicent. Well technically it was one of her rentals she had inherited when her father died but she decided to let you live there free of charge as well as telling you she’d help out when you decided to go back to school.

Aemond helped you get a job in the restaurant he’d been at for years and even though working as a waitress could be draining at the best of times you knew it would be worth it. especially now you were holding your daughter in your arms.

She was adorable with tuffs of blonde, white hair covering her perfect head. She was such a giggly baby, always gurgling away with a smile. Heleana had to go back to university, but Alicent made sure to adjust her schedule to have the baby when you were at work. Everything was finally feeling good again.

“Hush little baby doesn’t say a word,” you whisper sang to your baby as your nighttime routine with her, but she was already out from a long day at the park with her gran. As you laid her in her crib you heard the doorbell ring.

You froze, watching your daughter who initially stirred but luckily didn’t wake. You quickly padded to the front door, shutting the room to the nursery as you did. when you looked through the peep hole you felt your stomach tighten but still you reached for the door handle.

“Aegon?” you asked as he began to turn and walk away, probably assuming you weren’t in.

He spans back around, “Hey. I- “he began to stutter, “My brother said I could find you here,” you mentally cursed Aemond but stayed standing in the doorway, “I needed to talk to you,”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,”

You saw the hurt in his eyes, but you didn’t care. well at least you tried not to. “I should go,” he muttered, turning to leave once more.

You sighed. Even if you hated him for what he said he was still your daughter’s father, “Wait!” you called out, wincing at the noise you made. Aegon turned back, “Come in,” you sighed.

He walked in in silence, sitting down on the couch you pointed him to as you sat in your armchair. You turned to the table beside you and flicked the baby monitor on. “How is she?” Aegon broke the silence with his head hanging low.

“She’s okay,” you paused but decided to go on, “She’s got your hair but my eyes and all she ever does is laugh,”

“Just like you then?” Aegon smiled softly, looking up as for the first time in a year you shared a smile with him, “I’m sorry. For what I said, for even thinking it,” he began, the smile fading, “I fucked up. Nothing I can say will fix it and I don’t think ill ever make it up to you,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “But I won’t be my father. I don’t want to only see her at Christmas and sign some cheque to pretend I care. I want to be there for her, and you. if you’ll let me,”

He said it so sincerely, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, “What if you leave again?” you whispered. “I didn’t even know where you went,”

“I won’t,” he said firmly, “I know I fucked up. That night I left, and I ended up back at square one. Maybe less than one. All I remember is me leaving then waking up in a field surrounded by broken bottles. I couldn’t face you after. Not after how hard you worked to help me,”

“I kept it up for a bit, the drinking. Bounced around some houses sleeping on couches. Drank myself to sleep every night,” he continued his ramble, all while his eyes stared at the empty ground, “Then one night I was drunk again at a party and some guy offered me something. I almost took it. but something just snapped,”

“I checked myself into rehab the next day. Aemond’s been helping me, but he refused to tell me anything about you or well her. I couldn’t blame him. I was there for about four months. Got sober. Got better. Got another therapist. Ended up getting some jobs here and there. I work down at the Carstark Warehouses. Pays not much but enough to get by,”

Aegon paused again and finally looked up, “I really am sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me or feel bad, but I am sorry,” he said as he pulled an envelope out his pocket, “Take it,”

“I don’t need your money,”

Aegon sighed as he leaned forward and held it out to you. hesitantly you took it. inside was letters though. You pulled them out. At least thirteen of them, you weren’t too sure as your eyes began to well up. Some were to you, but most was to your daughter. “I brought this too,” he said making you look up.

He was holding a white plush bunny, your favourite animal, with a bow on its neck. “I got it when I saw my mums post on Facebook with the baby. I thought she should have it,” he said as he reached out to give it to you.

You shook your head this time, “No. you should give it to her. not me,” you said as you stood up, “You want to see her?”

Aegon shot out his seat, rubbing the sweat of his palms on his jeans, “Yeah course,”

You nodded as you led him to her nursery, “She’s asleep so you need to be quiet. I don’t want to wake her,” Aegon nodded as you creeped the door open.

Together you both walked in and for a moment before you turned around you thought he might run away again. However, when you turned and saw his awestricken face staring at your daughter you somehow knew he wouldn’t. he tenderly walked over to the crib, a tear trickling down his cheek as he held the crib by its rails. “I can’t believe I missed her being here,” he whispered so softly you barely heard him.

“You’re here now,” you whispered back, rubbing a hand on one of his shoulders while leaning on the others. “Just please don’t leave again,”

“I won’t. I’m never going anywhere again,”

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @meg-ro

HOTD taglist @jmii722 @hypocritic-trash-baby @starkleila @jacesvelaryons @sashadevil766

Part One Tags: @heavenly1927 @aemonds-holy-milk

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #modern Aegon Targaryen #modern aegon #modern aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #modern hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones x reader

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daisynik7 · 5 months

Text

cw: established relationship, smut - PIV sex, cunnilingus, ass slapping, pet names (good girl, good boy) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author's Note: This is so so silly y'all, I'm sorry. As an avid fan of ugly sweaters, I just couldn't resist this one. 😬 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune!

It’s the ugliest sweater he’s ever laid eyes on, yet Nanami finds himself wearing it, grimacing at his own reflection in the mirror. “Honey,” he calls out to you. “Are you sure about this?”

The distinct sound of jingling bells grows louder the closer you approach him, wearing the same exact sweater. There’s tinsel haphazardly spread across the chest, puff balls sporadically glued throughout the fabric, and of course, bells littered in what seems like every inch. You found it at a local thrift shop and just had to buy it for the upcoming holiday party with your friends. With this, you’re determined to finally win the contest against reigning champ Satoru Gojo, who always wears the same sweater every year, one that plainly has the word “HO” stitched on it.

You stand beside your husband, beaming at the mirror, admiring your outfits. “What do you mean? It’s an ugly sweater party! This is perfect!”

He pinches at the sides of it, cringing at how each movement emits a ringing that’s already grating on his ears. “It’s so…loud.”

You shimmy, sounding like a tambourine. “I know, isn’t it great?!” You grab onto his hips, forcing him to sway with you. “Come on, sweetie! Are you going to be naughty or nice for me tonight?” you tease him.

He finally cracks a smile, giving into your silliness by wiggling in place ever-so-slightly to produce a jingle. You giggle, sliding your arms around his neck, giving him a big smooch on the lips. “Thank you. You’ve been a very good boy this year.”

He lingers on your lips, voice low and sultry now. “How about you? Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

You bite your lip. “Kento…”

Soon, the both of you are naked from the waist down, ugly sweaters still intact. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, legs spread apart, ass cheeks stinging from Nanami harsh slaps on your flesh, enjoying the way it jiggles with each solid smack. “Good girl,” he says, squeezing your cheeks in his firm grip.

You can’t help but think this is some sort of payback for making him wear the ugly sweater, though you don’t mind it one bit. “Fuck me, Kento,” you whine, pussy already wet from foreplay.

“Not yet,” he growls, turning you over to face him, laying you flat on the mattress. “Your good boy is going to be very naughty first.” He dives into your arousal, licking your clit with long strokes of his tongue, lubed-up fingers pumping in and out of your slit. You squirm in pleasure, the bells of your sweater ringing with each little twist of your pliant body, yielding to his every touch. He puckers his lips around your swelling bud, sucking on it until you’re gushing all over his face.

The cacophony only gets more intense when he’s pounding you from behind, you on all fours, him slamming into you. Each thrust produces a new chime adding to whatever symphony of sex you’re creating in the bedroom. After your third orgasm, Nanami flips you over one last time, a wicked grin on his lips, relishing the fucked-out expression on your face as he strokes his cock fast in his fist. “Naughty girl, getting our sweaters all filthy. I guess it won’t hurt if I get them a little messier, right?” He moans, shooting his load onto you, spilling his seed all over the bells and tinsel.

You’re absolutely certain now that this is revenge for the whole ugly sweater thing, though you don’t let it deter you. After carefully hand washing it, the two of you manage to win this year’s ugly sweater contest, and Nanami can no longer contain the hard-on he has as you parade around in it, reminding him of when you first christened it. He rushes home that night to fuck you once again in that sweater, finally making his peace with it.

#nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami drabbles

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

please please PLEASE do a blurb of eddie fucking the reader and shes like struggling and saying “have.. to.. be.. quiet” while eddie is just cooing her telling her that she doesn’t/no one is home

author’s note: i will die on the hill of ‘struggling to be quiet’ fucking, thank you for coming to me ted talk and i hope you enjoy my poorly written smut.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (pulling out), exhibitionism (sort of), eddie being a menace, just another reason to write depraved smut

word count: 1.6k

You were accustomed to the quickies that happened, more often than not, in the back of Eddie’s trailer—early mornings, late nights. Eddie wasn’t particularly fond of fucking you in the back of his van anymore, feeling rushed and uncomfortable, and you deserved to be treated beautifully—not forced onto your knees in the back of some metal death machine, scrapping them up for the sheer idea of getting laid. You deserved a bed, at least—but the only downside to that, despite his lack of being a teen, Eddie still lived with his uncle.

And as often as Wayne was gone, he also couldn’t stay gone forever. Most of the time it could be managed without worry—Wayne was gone more evenings and nights, aside from the rare occasion he had a day off, but Eddie didn’t have any qualms when it came to you and when he needed you—and there really was no denying him, not when you wanted it just as badly.

His uncle doesn’t question when you start staying overnight, it’s not his business and he knows Eddie’s grown and level-headed enough to make good decisions—and you’re good for Eddie, he sees it in the way Eddie carries himself now and in the way he does everything possible to accommodate to you first—it really isn’t necessary, but Wayne raised him to be a gentleman and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that through.

Regardless, Eddie loves to catch you at the most inconvenient times—particularly the warm, summer weekends when Wayne was off, saddled up on the couch in the living room catching up on the latest sports game, television blasting through the trailer.

He knew. He had to.

Besides, Wayne had been nice enough to give Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer—and as a hormonal kid in his last year of high school, it was probably for the best.

He shuts the door with a soft click, the mix of his radio and the booming television drowning out everything else—still, when he fucks you, his hand is clasped tightly over your mouth to drown out every last moan he pulls from you.

Eddie loves it, face lighting up in excitement as you struggled to keep quiet, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at how hard he was fucking into you, panting his own soft breaths over the back of his hand, his face so close your eyelashes could touch.

“Fuck,” He groans brokey, voice cracking on his final thrust, pulling out swiftly to come over the soft expanse of your stomach, pulling his hand away from your mouth,“—baby—“

It’s too loud for your liking, springing up from your reclined position to clasp your hand over his mouth, his eyes falling shut as he tugs at his dick, working through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something against the palm of your hand, another curse or filthy remark, you’re not sure—but you’re more than thankful to have muffled his mouth because there was no surviving the shame of having to walk back to the entrance of the trailer after this.

When Eddie finally calms down, releasing his dick to pull at your hand, he’s laughing—and you can’t help but look at him with absurdity, shoving gently at his bare stomach.

“Eddie,” You say in a hushed voice of warning, “are you trying to get us caught?”

“He’s not stupid,” Eddie replies half-heartedly, shrugging, “He probably went out for a couple smokes anyways—he usually does.”

“Still,” You stress, “If you can’t wait, at least don’t make it so fucking obvious.”

Eddie smiles, tipping your chin up with his forefinger, the curved metal of his ring bumping against the skin.

“You can always say no,” Eddie reminds you playfully, “It didn’t seem like you cared a few minutes ago.”

Your eyes narrow, trying to look as intimidating as you could despite your soft features, “I was trying to be quiet. You were being loud on purpose.”

“You feel good.” He defends weakly, “Sue me.”

You roll your eyes fondly, swatting his hand away gently.

“Well, for my sake, try a little harder please?”

Eddie agrees with cautious regret, knowing he definitely didn’t have enough self control, but if it was for you—he would. And it becomes normal after time, almost too easy, and Eddie takes full advantage of it.

You’ve never fucked in a storage closet, let alone at school, but it’s something you can say you’ve tried at least once—all thanks to Eddie’s steadfast determination. He’s even bold enough to fuck you in the bathroom of your parent’s home during a big dinner with other friends and family—and no one had a clue. Eddie always knew how to take full advantage of every situation, both a blessing and a curse.

But when the rare occasion does come, leaving you both alone for the night and Eddie free of his Hellfire duties, it’s like you don’t know how to handle yourself, forcing yourself to keep quiet out of habit.

You pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth, snuffing out the soft whines begging to escape, the slow, full thrust of Eddie’s hips overwhelming when mixed with his calloused fingers working at your already sensitive clit. He moans unabashed, tossing his head back to throw his hair over his shoulder, free hand gripping your hip like a vice, pulling you against him just as eagerly as he thrust into you.

“Love watching you like this,” Eddie says softly, voice shot from pleasure, “—look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

You nod jerkily, agreeing with whatever he said at that point, brows pulling together in concentration, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He asks teasingly, tongue peeking out past his lips and near the corner of his mouth, smug as fucking ever.

“Have to—“ You pant softly, “have to be quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie pouts endearingly, pulling you against him in a rough snap of his hips, your hands grabbing at his messy sheets.

“No, baby,” He shakes his head, “—it’s just us.”

“But—“ You start to protest, but Eddie's hand comes to grab at your face, gentle despite his quickening pace, less restrained than earlier. “—what if your neighbors, you know—“

It was true, sound traveled far too well in the tiny trailer park—but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I want to hear you,” Eddie tells you honestly, eyes falling upon your face, mouth gaping open in his grip, you nod slightly, “—unless you need me to force it out of you.”

And he could with no problem.

“Turn around,” He instructs softly, pulling out momentarily to adjust your hips until you push up onto your knees, face shoved gently into the mattress, “don’t hold back, baby.”

Eddie came in with a plan, sliding into you with ease, hips snapping at a hurried pace that had you gasping into the sheets, even then they were muffled, all semblance of thought and self control gone, practically drooling into his sheets at the brutal pace he’d set.

It isn’t enough for Eddie though, his hand winding into the back of your hair until it hits the root, yanking your head up tenderly—the strain is bordering on uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, the sound he releases as he thrusts into you with furious precision.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” He says in a haze, head tilted down to watch himself sink into you, squeezing at the dip of your hip, “squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

You nod, mumbling a soft “Uh huh,” in response, but it’s not what Eddie wants—he knows you have it in you, keeping it so calmly at bay.

“Am I making you feel good, too?” Eddie asks teasingly, another quiet nod, the motion weak against his tight hold on your hair. “Say it, baby—who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” You reply softly, pulling gently against his grip until he lets go, palms pressed against the bed to keep you upright, using your own momentum to slam your hips back against him, plunging Eddie so deep your vision feels like it goes spotty, “—fuck, you do.”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He instructs in a sweet tone, leaning back on his calves until you’re seated in his lap, “say my name.”

You gasp as his fingers reach around to find your clit in a desperate attempt to pull you to a quick orgasm—“Eddie.”

“Louder.”

You sob softly, the muscles of your legs twitching as the pressure builds, your body going white hot with euphoric pleasure as you come around Eddie’s cock, crying out a broken, “EddieEddieEddie—“

Eddie curses as he comes a few seconds after, over the swell of your ass, feeling desperate to catch your breath. He leans down a moment later, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of your back, running his hands along your arms gently. He lifts you up slowly until you can face him again, face at chest level from where he stood above you. His face is outlined by the low light of the room, another satisfied grin pulling at his face.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Eddie teases, “I knew you had it in you.”

You roll your eyes light-heartedly, shoving your fist against his abdomen gently, his fingers coming to wrap around your wrist with ease.

“I never said I didn’t.” You counter and Eddie grins even wider.

It’s safe to say that Eddie goes out of his way to make sure the trailer is always cleared from then on, never depriving himself of such an experience ever again.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

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just-jordie-things · 6 months

Text

i walk the line - choso kamo

word count: 2k warnings: minor(?) shibuya spoilers, choso has a panic attack, mentions of blood/fighting, didn't feel like specifying what (y/n) is doing in mahito's gang lmfao summary: a familiar face finds choso after his fight with itadori and talks him down from a panic attack. the pair realize together that they want to fight for a new cause. ___

How can this be happening? This can’t be real. He couldn’t have been real.

His hands are shaking, his muscles are losing all feeling, his entire reality is crumbling around him, and from where he stands in the lower levels of the Shibuya train station, it certainly looks like it is too.

Another brother? And so young?

He’s sinking to the ground before he registers his knees have even gone weak. The floor is still wet from his fight with Itadori, but ruining his robes is the last thing on his mind.

He hurt him. He hurt Itadori. He hurt his little brother.

It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t known that Itadori was family, of course if he had, none of this could have ever happened. All of this fighting, suddenly rendered pointless, suddenly deeply unjust. It was all making his head spin, and his vision blur.

This can’t be happening.

He squeezes his eyes shut and clamps his hands over his ears, trying to drown out all the external forces trying to crowd his sensations. The flow of water on the cracked tiles below him, the distant hollers and screams echoing along the corridors, and the sudden loud stomping of heavy boots through water and rubble.

When a more familiar voice travels closer at rapid speed, likely carried by the racing stomping, it cuts through the overstimulating echoes bouncing off the tunnel’s brick walls.

“Choso!” Even with the palms of his hands muffling all sound, he can make out that the voice is hollering his name.

At first he presses his hands against the sides of his head harder, worried he couldn’t trust what reality was anymore. He’s digging his calloused palms hard into his ears as airtight as possible. But as much as he wants to turn off all of his senses, he can feel footsteps crashing against the ground and coming towards him.

And then they come to a halt. He feels some splashes of water soaking through the pant leg at his ankle, but it’s still not enough to make him look up.

“Choso,” He hears his name again, followed by small hands wrapping around his wrists.

The touch makes him flinch, but he doesn’t immediately pull away. Heye opened in a flurry of dark lashes and panic, finally letting himself believe she was really there. She’s a little blurry in front of his teary eyes, but she’s undoubtedly there, crouched before him, wrapped in a trench coat too big for her, and a cap pulled over ears, keeping her usually wild hair tame. She’s not an illusion, drawn up by his fragmenting mind. He knows because those are her (y/e/c) eyes staring back at him, usually bright, but currently clouded with concern. He knows because it was her voice murmuring a string of questions driven by her worry.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Can you walk? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

(y/n) tries to speak slowly, but a part of her is anxious about not having much time to speak to him at all. She shouldn’t be here, he told her not to come here, but here she was.

“Say something, please” She begs of him, her thumbs rubbing gentle circles over the bony edges of his wrists. Finally, he begins to drop his hands from his ears.

“I- my brother-” He croaks out, and she nods as he tries his best to speak, reaffirming that she was trying to understand. The breath he takes also draws in a groan, but it helps to get some oxygen in his lungs, and he speaks a little more clearly. “I have a brother”

(y/n) nods again, brows drawing together as she takes in the information. It takes a great effort to keep her expression neutral as she processes, not wanting to do anything to trigger anymore panic from him.

“Like- like another one?” She asks, briefly glancing around her to make sure no one else was coming.

Truthfully, she’s terrified. She may not have been present for what transpired in Shibuya, but she knew that those who had wreaked their havoc on the unsuspecting city couldn’t have gotten far just yet, and she wasn’t equipped like he was to handle monsters such as them. She should be grabbing him and making him run, getting them both the hell out of there, and anywhere else. She didn’t care if they had to camp out on the side of the road- if it was far from here, and he was with her, she’d go. But despite every instinct screaming at her to get to fucking running she stays put, and gives him every ounce of her attention.

“I- I think so?” He gasps out, and his mouth opens and closes a few more times as he struggles to explain the odd feeling to her. “I don’t- I don’t know how, it d-doesn’t make any sense, but- but I felt it, I know it”

“Okay,” She nods along. “Okay, you felt it, yeah? In your blood, you know it”

“But he- how could he- how can that even be real?” He’s mumbling to himself, shaking his head as he tries to process it all to the best of his ability. “Can’t be real, can’t be real, can’t be real” Over and over, until he’s trembling before her, and she mirrors his panic.

“Hey, hey, shh, listen to me,” She’s murmuring, letting go of his wrists to snatch at his hands, gripping them firmly, her thumbs pressing into the palms of his hands. “It’s real, alright? It was real,” She assured him, meeting his eyes. “You felt it”

Tears pour down his cheeks.

“I hurt him,” He confesses. “I hurt my brother,”

(y/n) blinks at him, sadness flickering over her features as she begins to understand what his terror and panic was all about. Then again, all at once, his eyes widen, he’s pulling his hands out of hers, and he’s grabbing her by the wrists as he hauls both of them upwards. Despite the aftershock of a panic attack still crashing over him, Choso is forced to face reality.

And the reality was that she shouldn’t be here.

“You need to go,” He speaks so quickly his words slur together, and his eyes are darting around the abandoned station, trying to find the nearest and safest exit for her to retreat to. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s still not safe… Mahito… Kenjaku… I don’t know where exactly, but they can’t be far”

He continues to ramble on, but his words get sloppy and a bit inaudible. (y/n) shakes her head at him when he tries to push her forward, trying to get her to an exit he deemed safe enough for her to take.

“Wait, stop,” She tries to calmly protest, but her voice falls on deaf ears, Choso’s already dragging her by the arms, even as her boots scrape against the ground in an attempt to slow them both down. “Choso!”

Planting both of her feet on the ground firmly, she stares up at him, her eyes wildly looking between his. She tries to keep her expression calm, she doesn’t want to cause him more distress, but it takes raising her voice for her to get through him in this state.

Her fingers are trembling for an unknown reason as she secures her hands around his forearms. They stand there in a bloodied puddle of water, both staring at each other with no plan and unanswered questions left between them.

Since their first meeting, (y/n) had felt inexplicably drawn to him. Everything about him allured her, his demeanor, his voice, his way of thinking, his pretty face, his cursed technique, every part of him that he’d shown to her she found an interest in.

And maybe they hadn’t met for the right reasons. Maybe what pushed them together were feelings of revenge so old and worn they’d gathered dust. But what she does know is that since their meeting, she’d been questioning herself and the trajectory of her life more and more.

And right now, standing with him in an abandoned train station left in ruins from the aftermath of an attack she’d almost encouraged and almost taken part in, is that she was letting the wrong emotions push her through life.

Her hands tighten around him, eyes flickering between his as she tries to find the words to voice all of this to him quickly, before their time ran out and worse things fell upon them.

“Let’s just…” Her voice is quiet, and a bit strained, but she takes a deep breath before finishing, “Go”

Choso blinks, and she feels his hands twitch against her wrists, momentarily squeezing too tight before loosening and holding onto her carefully again.

“Go?” He repeats, but it’s not a question on what she means. It’s a question of if she truly means it. It’s hopeful, vulnerable even. His eyes don’t leave hers one as he awaits her confirmation.

She nods in a small, shaky movement, but she does it a few times, with absolute certainty.

“Yeah,” She breathes out. “I… this isn’t what I want,”

She looks away from him as she takes in the destroyed tunnel. Not only had blood been spilt but walls and industrial beams had been brutalized, and the few inches of standing water did nothing to help it look less ruined. Her heart sinks as she realizes this is only the beginning, this is only a small fraction of what was to come.

Her eyes find Choso’s again and she shuffles forward, water sloshing around her boots as she moves.

“But I want to be where you are,” She tells him, not a single crack in her voice. “So wherever, whatever you want to do… I want to go with you”

Finally, the panic in his eyes seems to settle. His features relax, and then soften, and in turn (y/n) feels her shoulders release their tension, and a faint smile forms on her face. Things were far from okay, but she had a feeling in her gut telling her that they would find a way to work in the right direction.

Choso releases her arms, only to cup her face in his hands and pull her in closer, ducking his own head to meet her height properly.

“You already can’t follow instructions when I tell you to stay put anyways,” He says, and he swears her eyes shimmer with an emotion unknown to him but so pretty he dares try to seek it out again.

As soon as his gaze shifts down to her lips, she’s beating him to the chase. Her hands fly from his arms to his shoulders and her lips are on his before he can even ask her if it was alright to kiss her.

For Choso, there’s a moment of pure panic that feels different from the last- this one is hot, and feels as though it could lift him right off the ground rather than throw him through it. But just as quickly as he startled, he melted into her. He dropped his hold to her hips, sliding his hands under the ridiculously oversized coat she wore to pull her close and kiss her deep. Their time was still running out, but for this fleeting moment, he needed to be sure she understood exactly where he stood on her staying by his side.

The tips of her fingers are chilly and wet when they slide over the sides of his neck before they reluctantly pull away for air, but Choso’s never felt a touch so lovely and delicate. She’s slow to open her eyes, slow to say or do anything, even her lips still parted, but he’s staring at her ardently. There’s an intensity behind his eyes and buzzing in his touch that she longs to chase after.

“Well,” The word falls from her lips under her breath, not having caught it after their sudden kiss. “What do we do next?”

And Choso smiles then, slowly but surely, as an idea strikes his mind that is going to sound crazy, but he has a feeling she’s looking for a new direction, and what better place to start than family?

“We find Itadori” ___

a/n: first choso fic !! <3 bout damn time!!

xoxo ~ jordie

#choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso #choso x reader #choso imagine #choso kamo imagine #choso jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #choso jujutsu kaisen

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zapreportsblog · 7 months

Note

Cullens family x youngest sister! Reader

The cullens each trying to wake up their newest and youngest member in their family for her first day of Highschool.

Let’s just say reader isn’t a light sleeper😅

❝like a bear in hibernation❞

✭ pairing : cullen siblings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the recent adopted member of the Olympic Clan, she’s was once a Norman vampire but after having a run in with Esme she was taken under her wing and slowly adopted into the family’s traditions. Now it’s the first day of school for her and no one can seem to wake her up

✭ authors note : in this version of twilight the vampires here can sleep

✭ twilight masterlist

In the cozy Cullen household, a sense of serenity prevailed. The family had welcomed a new member into their fold, (Y/n), a former nomadic vampire who had once struggled with a dangerous addiction to human blood. But since coming under the Cullens' guidance, she had embraced their lifestyle, adopting a diet of animal blood and striving to gain control over her thirst.

Today marked a special day for (Y/n) as she prepared for her first day of school in the small town of Forks. Her siblings, each with their unique approach to waking her up, had agreed to take turns in the morning.

Alice, always the lively one, decided to be the first to rouse her new sister. She entered (Y/n)'s room with a mischievous grin, armed with a portable speaker playing loud pop music. With precision, she positioned it right by (Y/n)'s ear and cranked up the volume.

The blaring music filled the room, reverberating off the walls. Alice watched with eager anticipation, expecting (Y/n) to jolt awake at the sudden noise.

However, much to Alice's surprise, (Y/n) merely mumbled in her sleep, turning away from the source of the noise. Her eyelids remained closed, and she seemed undisturbed by the cacophony.

Alice couldn't help but giggle at (Y/n)'s resilience. It appeared that (Y/n) was not an easy sleeper to wake.

Alice exited (Y/n)'s room, a bemused expression on her face. Her attempt to wake their new sister with loud pop music had failed, leaving (Y/n) in blissful slumber. She reported back to the rest of the Cullen family, who had gathered in the hallway outside the room.

"No luck in waking her up," Alice declared with a huff, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Edward, with his telepathic abilities, chimed in, "I couldn't sense any change in her emotions when you tried to wake her, Alice."

Emmett chuckled, amused by the situation. "Well, this ought to be interesting. Who's next?"

Alice rolled her eyes playfully before suggesting, "Jasper's turn."

Jasper, always calm and composed, entered (Y/n)'s room with a sense of determination. He understood that his unique gift could be used to influence emotions, and he had a plan in mind.

Approaching (Y/n)'s bed, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder, his voice a soothing whisper. "Wake up, (Y/n). It's time to start your day."

(Y/n) stirred at his touch, but her sleep seemed unusually deep. She mumbled something unintelligible and shifted in her bed, still not fully awake.

Jasper didn't give up. He decided to use his gift, channeling feelings of excitement and energy into (Y/n)'s subconscious. It was like giving her a burst of enthusiasm, akin to the zoomies a dog might experience.

As he infused her with this vibrant energy, (Y/n)'s body reacted. She began tossing and turning in her bed, her limbs twitching as if caught in the throes of excitement. Her breathing quickened, and her features contorted into a mix of joy and restlessness.

The rest of the Cullens watched with fascination as (Y/n) remained blissfully asleep, completely oblivious to the energetic turmoil happening within her dreams.

Jasper couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight. It appeared that, even in slumber, (Y/n) was a force to be reckoned with.

After Jasper's attempt to wake (Y/n) ended with her tossing and turning in her sleep, the Cullen siblings couldn't help but be entertained by their new sister's stubborn slumber. Jasper exited her room, shaking their heads.

Jasper smirked and said, "Seems my attempt didn't work. Emmett, it's your turn."

Emmett, always up for a challenge, grinned widely. He stepped into (Y/n)'s room with an air of excitement, ready to try something different. As soon as he spotted her, he couldn't resist the urge to act like a big kid.

Emmett began bouncing on (Y/n)'s bed with the enthusiasm of a child on a trampoline. The mattress squeaked and shifted beneath his weight as he jumped up and down. He called out, "Wake up, sleepyhead! It's a brand new day!"

But all (Y/n) did in response was mumble in her sleep, her brow furrowing slightly as if she were having an unusual dream. Unbeknownst to Emmett, her powers were activated in her sleep, her telekinesis manifesting.

With a sudden burst of power, Emmett was lifted off the bed and sent flying through the air. He let out a surprised shout as he crashed through the bedroom door and slid into the living room, creating a comical scene that left the other Cullens in stitches.

Emmett groaned from his less-than-graceful landing and rubbed his head as he rose to his feet. He looked back at the closed bedroom door, shaking his head.

"Rose, your turn," he grumbled, determined to finally get their new sister out of bed.

Rosalie, determined to wake (Y/n) from her stubborn slumber, entered the room with a plan in mind. She approached the bed and, with her vampire strength, effortlessly lifted it, attempting to tilt it slightly to make (Y/n) lose her balance and fall.

However, as Rosalie exerted her strength on the bed, she quickly realized that (Y/n) was gripping the mattress tightly, refusing to budge. Her brows furrowed in surprise, but before she could react, (Y/n) activated her telekinesis once more.

With a surge of power, the bed was wrenched from Rosalie's grasp, and she was sent flying backward. Emmett, who had been waiting just outside the room, caught Rosalie with ease.

Rosalie looked back at the closed door, her irritation evident. "Tough luck," Emmett teased as he held her.

The other Cullens, who had been watching the spectacle unfold, exchanged glances. Edward, always the logical one, was their last hope. They turned to him with expectant expressions, silently asking if he could use his telepathy to wake (Y/n).

Edward chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't, actually. She puts up a mental block when she's asleep. It's like she's determined to enjoy her beauty rest."

The Cullens sighed collectively, realizing that (Y/n) was indeed a unique challenge when it came to waking her up. Her stubborn slumber was proving to be quite the puzzle, and they couldn't help but be intrigued by their new sister's extraordinary abilities, even in her sleep.

The Cullen family had exhausted their attempts to wake (Y/n) from her deep slumber. With her first day of school looming, it became clear that a more unconventional approach was needed.

Esme, always the nurturing and caring mother figure of the family, spoke up. "Well, we can't just have her miss her first day of school."

Carlisle, the family's patriarch, sighed, knowing what had to be done. "I hope it didn't have to come to this."

He informed the rest of the family of his plan, and with a determined expression, he left the house. Minutes later, he returned with a packet of human blood from his job at the local blood bank.

The Cullens watched with curiosity as Carlisle poured the human blood into a cup, the rich red liquid contrasting starkly with their usual diet of animal blood. They exchanged concerned glances but remained silent.

Carlisle ignored their inquiries and proceeded to (Y/n)'s room. He left the cup of human blood on her nightstand, hoping it would be the key to finally waking her.

Only seconds later, (Y/n) emerged from her room, cup in hand, sipping the human blood. Her eyes were bright and alert, a smile on her face as she greeted her family.

"What a nice wake-up call," she said, her tone cheerful. "But you guys wouldn't believe what I dreamt about."

The Cullens exchanged relieved glances. It seemed that the allure of human blood had successfully roused (Y/n) from her deep slumber, and she was now ready to face her first day of school with her newfound family.

As (Y/n) shared her dream with the Cullens, they couldn't help but be amused by the creative lengths they had gone to in order to wake her. It was just another extraordinary day in the life of their unique family.

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hina-hina · 1 year

Note

Can I request Task Force 141 and König with a chaotic, meme lord reader? Sometimes the things that spew out of her mouth are so unexpected that make some of the members laugh. Ty in advance!

Hi friend!!! This is such a funny request!! Also, my first request for König（〃｀ 3′〃）Sorry if this ends up posting late, Tumblr deleted my work (╬▔皿▔)╯ Thank you for requesting!!!

On a different note, I wanted to take a second to thank everyone for all the love on my works and thank you especially for 100 follower!! I love hearing what you guys have to say, I love your requests and ideas, and I especially love all the support I get from you guys!! Thank you for everything ~\(≧▽≦)/~

|| Task Force 141 + König with a Chaotic S/O ||

Warnings: crack, fluff

|| Ghost

Quietly Amused

Would be more likely to reprimand you if you started getting more chaotic while on mission

"Keep it tactical"

Despite this, he does find it funny

Will feed into it, if only to annoy the others

You might be able to get a quiet chuckle out of him unexpectedly

He vehemently denies it happening

Probably doesn't know very many of the memes you recite

Finds them amusing anyway

|| Soap

Thinks its hilarious

Would encourage you to annoy Ghost

He would join in as well

Is quick to come up with a comeback, its harder to catch him off guard

Can still focused while also joking with you so he often does it on assignments

It pisses Ghost off

Knows most of the memes you recite

If he doesn't, he is always happy to learn

Your favorite thing to do together is watch funny videos on Netflix or Tiktok

|| Gaz

Surprised but Amused

Would get caught off guard sometimes

You can definitely get a few abrupt chuckles out of him by doing this

Loves your jokes and will stay in your company if he needs to be cheered up

Loves annoying Captain Price with memes with you because he doesn't understand them

Loves joking with you before missions to keep him relaxed

|| Captain Price

Is so confused

Has no clue what your on about half the time

Despite this, you will get the occasional chuckle out of him

You try to explain memes to him but he just gets irritated when he doesn't understand

Would get jealous when the other guys understood your references

If your relationship is romantic, he would fear he is too old for you

Despite this, you reassure him you don't mind explaining memes to him and you find it cute

He finds your jokes cute too

|| König

Can be just as bad

Like, you guys have heard his little gremlin voice lines in Warzone right???

He can be just as chaotic

However, he tends to only show this side of himself when he is with you or when he is on the field hopped up on adrenaline

However, once you get him going it's chaos

You guys have a ton of inside jokes

Even though he tends to be more reserved in large groups, he loves you ability to just say whatever you want and make people laugh

Can get a little jealous when others show you a lot of attention due to your loud, joking nature

But just remind him you love him and he'll be fine

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jjkeverlast · 9 months

Text

seven days a week | jjk (m)

>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader

>> genre/au's friends with benefits | college AU | smut | crack

>> summary jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.

>> word count 1.8k

>> author's note fhjkdhkjd hiiii!!! we're halfway there peeps <3 things become revealed on this cause i'm a whore for plot... so 👀

masterlist for seven days a week

“So, you and Jungkook are…”

“Casual, nothing more and nothing less Park.” You answer truthfully, while skimming your eyes over the aisle of butt plugs.

“I don’t believe that. Remember when he had the biggest crush on you during the first semester?” Jimin slaps your shoulder lightly, almost punishing you for hooking up with Jungkook.

“You’re lying. He doesn’t like me—”

“He does.” Jimin insists, whisper-yelling to not cause attention.

“Why are you whispering?!” You take a butt plug from the aisle, noticing how it’s transparent.

“I don’t know, we’re in a fucking sex shop?”

You shake your head, giggling as you put back the butt plug and continue to stroll through the shop. Jimin isn’t innocent, he’s just not very open to the whole sex toys thing. You’ve tried to make him loosen a bit to the idea but he refuses. Which is also why you’re surprised he even accompanied you. But after he started bringing up Jungkook as the first thing, you weren’t surprised why he said yes.

“I didn’t force you to come.” You say, finding the section for ropes and handcuffs.

“I know…” Jimin whispers carefully, not wanting for you to hear that you’re right. He knows you’ll use it against him.

“But seriously, why are we here? Did Jungkook send you here or?” You choke at the question. It’s not that it hasn’t anything to do with Jeon Jungkook but you’re here because he gave you the green light to pick. And, you’ve had a few things in mind.

“This isn’t about him… It’s for me.” You respond, voice laced with uncertainty. You hope it doesn’t crack through to your friend. Jimin just rolls his eyes, following behind you while you finally find what you’ve been looking for.

“Perfect.” You grab ahold of the silver handcuffs. Jimin raises an eyebrow in question.

“What? You’re gonna handcuff yourself or?” You sigh out loud.

“And if I do?”

“Kinky.” Jimin jokes, which causes you to roll your eyes back at him. Sure, you had some fantasies that weren’t on the most vanilla side, yet Jungkook was very basic. It wasn’t a bad thing, he always did things to make it exciting somehow but you wanted to step it up a bit. Handcuffs were a good beginning.

Jimin doesn’t need to know who’s going to wear them. That’s gonna stay between you and Jungkook. You know deep down he gave you the green light, but a part of you is still uncertain about bringing an accessory to your deal. Fuck it, if he truly has a problem with it, then you’re not as sexually compatible as you thought. You’re just extremely curious to how he’ll react.

The bag from the sex shop is resting on your desk while you fiddle with the material of your sheets. You’ve kept your eyes on it ever since you arrived back home, wondering if you should open them now. It’s mostly because you’re curious over how exactly they work, and looking at the time, Jungkook won’t be here for another hour — so you have time.

Something kicks inside of you, so without instinct you jump up and open the bag with no care. When you get access to the handcuffs, you notice they aren’t paired up with keys but are sustainable instead. You regret holding onto them, because the minute you’re about to put them away, Jungkook walks into your dorm as if he lives here.

“Hi— Are those handcuffs?” Jungkook stills by the door, while your face looks like a deer caught in headlights. It’s like middle school all over again, being caught with something you truly wanted to keep to yourself. Jungkook is sometimes hard to read and him being extremely quiet worsens the situation for you.

“You’ve got eyes.” You joke, about to put them away when Jungkook moves towards you and grabs them. He studies them, humming along.

Your heartbeat increases, afraid of what he’ll think.

“Never took you for a kinky person…” Jungkook says. “I like it.” He smirks, moving closer to you and grabbing both of your wrists.

You stop him. “Who said I would wear them?” You quirk an eyebrow and Jungkook’s mouth drops.

“You’re kidding.”

You don’t respond, instead you take them from him, locking him in easily as he lets you.

“Lay down for me.” You demand, taking off your pants which gets Jungkook excited. He’s never really been dominated before or been handcuffed before but this is surprisingly a huge turn on for him.

“Damn baby.” Jungkook comments, laying completely down and dragging his arms upwards. You straddle his lap, being too quiet for his liking.

Jungkook can’t get another word out because you’re kissing him, gently yet roughly as you pull his bottom lip with your teeth.

“You said I decide this time. This is what I want.” You push yourself down, dragging your clothed core over his growing erection.

“Shit.” Jungkook breathes out, stunned by how you’re taking control like this.

You grind back and forth, feeling the edges of his cock rub down on your clit and slit. The sensation is enough to make you grow needy, continuing your movements. Jungkook isn’t better himself, moving his hips upwards to follow your pace.

Jungkook is surprised when you bring your mouth on his neck, kissing him all the way down as you keep eye contact with him.

It’s not that you don’t want to tease or edge Jungkook for a bit longer, but your roommate is back in a few hours and she’s the last person that needs to know you have Jeon Jungkook right under you.

So, therefore you move your hand to the waistband of his pants, taking his fully hard cock out. Jungkook hisses by the contact of your hand on him. You do love to tease just a little bit, so you put your lips on the underside of his cock, letting him feel the soft edges of your lips. Jungkook moans by the contact, missing having your mouth on him.

It’s not something you always did, so whenever you did, Jungkook couldn’t exactly contain himself. With a small smile, you finally give him what he wants, grabbing him by the base and swirling your tongue towards the wet slit.

“Fucking love your mouth.” Jungkook says truthfully which sends a rush down your core. Compliments by him always had that effect on you.

You prop yourself up, inviting the tip inside of your warm mouth. The way your mouth stretches sends a chill down Jungkook’s spine, him tucking on his lip ring in anticipation. You move downwards, covering everything you can and using your hand to whatever you can’t cover. As said, Jungkook is fucking big.

You suck up and down, spitting on it once to lubricate it. The noise turns wet and sloppy as you shamelessly suck him off like you always do. Jungkook tries his hardest not to thrust upwards, keeping himself still to be good for you. After all, this is simply the beginning.

When his cock is wet enough, you remove your mouth and move towards the cupboard to fetch a condom. Jungkook watches you put in on with ease, removing your underwear before you position yourself. Normally you would grind down on it before sitting down, but you’re too impatient.

As you ease yourself down, you both gasp in sync over the feeling. Jungkook feels himself grow dizzy over how tight and warm you feel and you just love how he fills you up.

When he’s fully inside of you, you begin to bounce, clutching both hands on his chest. Sounds grow louder whenever you move quicker, aching for a release. Jungkook tries his best not to move upwards and kiss every inch of you, maybe even slide his hand under your shirt and squeeze your breasts. Now he understands the meaning behind handcuffs. They send an unwilling rush through you, making everything feel more intense because of the restraint.

“That’s it, shit.” Jungkook praises you, moving his hips upwards and meeting you halfway. You respond with a moan, throwing your head back as his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly.

When you look back down on Jungkook, you notice how he’s moving his arms towards you.

You stop moving. “If you touch me I stop.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“You can’t be serious.” He almost sounds annoyed.

You grin, moving down to reach his lips. “I am.” You mumble against them and Jungkook tries to reach for your mouth but you move back upwards and go back to it.

This is fun.

Seeing Jungkook a little helpless, despite every inch of him aching to touch you, makes you feel something you can’t exactly pinpoint. All you know is that this is the most fun you’ve had a while.

You grab onto his necklace, fiddling with it as you bite your lip and move carelessly. Jungkook is beginning to tense, a sign he’s close but you’re far from done.

Therefore, you remove yourself, Jungkook groaning by the loss of your warm core. But, before he can ask why you’ve stopped, you turn around, giving him a view of your backside.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes out, watching your ass begin to bounce on him. You hold onto his legs for support, gliding yourself back down whenever the tip is about to slip out. The pace is slower than before, a teasing method you’ve gained while having your fun with Jungkook.

“Jungkook—“ You moan, feeling yourself grow closer, your legs tensing with each thrust. Jungkook can tell you’re close, with the way you’re clenching around him. He’s trying to hold on for a little longer, holding his hands where you want them but fuck. Every burning fiber in him wants to touch it, grab it, even spank it. He’s always liked the startled gasp you make whenever he spanks you and right now? He fucking needs it.

It intensifies everything around him, his brain shutting off completely, sounds being the only thing he makes. You’re just as lost, pushing everything you have in yourself to chase your high.

As your orgasm begins to wash over you, your hold on Jungkook’s legs tighten, along with every muscle. Jungkook follows suit, his cock twitching inside of you — releasing inside of the condom.

The room is quiet. Without a warning you remove yourself, Jungkook’s cock slipping out of you easily. You both look at each other and Jungkook removes the handcuffs in a hurry.

“Jungkook wha—“ He interrupts your sentence with a soft peck to your lips, both of his hands cradling your sweaty cheeks.

The kiss surprises you. Not because you haven’t kissed before, no. This is the first time Jungkook has kissed you without it leading up to sex.

“You’re incredible.” Jungkook admits, leaning his forehead against yours. He looks at you softly, caressing the apple of your cheeks with his thumb. It’s a look he’s never given you before.

Oh.

Oh no.

Holy shit. Does Jungkook like you?!

taglist for this series;

@royallyjjk @fandems @lukeys-giggle @junniesoleilkth @katie-tibo @effielumiere @babigriin @cocopuffsilove @exactlygreatcoffee @shameless-army @frieschan @fairy-jaykay @thvhoe @taebangtanbabe @parkjammys @bloopkook @canyon-lwt @borahaexoxo @iffyleafy @kookswifesblog @astralmono @skzthinker @joonblogz @evajeonsworld @justanotherkpopstanlol @younhakim29 @needausernamepl @rinkud @jungkookie94 @revluvexo-ls @jiminswh0re @kimsharon-2430 @chimmisbae @jjkluvcloudsworld @laylasbunbunny @queen-in-the-shadows @moonstar127 @ediary2 @whatfandomnow @jimmeojimin @ikpopwriting @burnahtsw @jkslaugh97 @hopeworldjimin @hoseokteardrop @justaprettywriter @gummymintae

[if your tag doesn't work, that means i'm unable to tag you :(((]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #bts jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook drabble #jungkook drabble

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