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burntheedges · 29 days

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Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3 chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left.

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene.

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.”

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take.

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop.

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless.

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look.

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.”

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile.

He smiled back. “When are you free?”

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together.

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach.

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.”

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner.

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around.

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him.

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed.

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.”

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her.

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him.

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking.

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–”

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough.

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him.

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch.

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you.

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this.

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.”

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled.

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand.

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat.

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together.

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered.

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked.

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.”

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned.

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night.

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant.

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date.

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard.

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better.

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.”

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table.

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.”

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.”

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last.

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner.

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door.

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful.

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again.

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch.

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.”

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you.

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words.

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes.

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.”

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself.

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them.

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there.

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched.

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.”

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled.

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.”

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.”

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed.

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.”

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss.

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation.

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.”

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again.

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

#frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #x reader #here we go #ts drabble challenge

265 notes · View notes

chaithetics · 11 months

Note

For a fluffy request: Stewy taking care of a sick reader

Couchside Comfort

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader/ Stewy Hosseini x reader (can be read as either the usual Roy reader or Roy-less reader as there's only one small reference to Shiv Roy at the end)

Word count: 2.5K

Author's note: Thank you so much for this request Nonnie! I absolutely adore this type of fluff! I know you probably meant sick like a cold or something minor but this felt like the perfect opportunity to do a chronically ill reader, I then had a lovely ask regarding endo from @emeraldsandelderberries and I was convinced to finish off the idea about a reader having their period and making this ask endo related. I hope you don't mind Nonnie, if you had another illness in mind or wanted something more generic, please do let me know and I can do that! I think having chronically ill readers and fics is so important and endo is so important, so this is dedicated to those two and anyone reading who has endo, a chronic illness, gynae pain etc. You all deserve a Stewy who will take care of you and I hope you all enjoy this! I'm very tempted to write more chronically ill fics! As usual, reblogs and comments are more than welcome and appreciated! PS has not been proofread (shocker!)

Content/chapter warning: established relationship, mentions of endometriosis, chronic illness,pain, periods, fluffy fluff. There is no physical description of the reader but they are AFAB/have endo.

*********************

It had been an absolutely miserable day, you’d woken up feeling a bit bloated and with an ache in your lower back. It wasn’t a great feeling but having dealt with a chronic illness for a significant amount of your life that flared up randomly and consistently through your cycle, you had sadly become used to waking up with discomfort and bloating. At least with your career and home life, you didn’t need to worry about the oxymoron of wearing jeans with an endo belly.

But the morning had very quickly progressed from mild (for you) discomfort to a full-blown flareup with the culprit being your period. You ended up staying home and having a sick day then going to work, you didn’t text or call Stewy as there wasn’t much he could do. Endometriosis wasn’t something that had an easy guide to fix and cure, it was unpredictable it fluctuated and maybe if you just rested you might feel better by the time Stewy came home. Which you knew was unlikely anyway.

You’d taken anti-inflammatories, had an obscenely long magnesium bath, you’d tried napping but you couldn’t get into a position anywhere that was comfortable enough and didn’t hurt. Hours had painfully, slowly gone by and you were now curled up on the sofa watching one of your favourite comfort films Dead Poets Society, even though it always made you cry.

Stewy was home a bit earlier than usual, he wasn’t expecting you to be home already but he knew you were as he could hear the sound of the television playing something. You hear the door open and the sound of him coming in and the usual routine of shoes off and so forth. You hadn’t called or texted so he just assumes that you finished work early and you’re unwinding on the couch.

“What are we watching?” He calls out as he follows the noise of the television to you.

“Dead Poet’s Society.” You tiredly and quietly call out as you feel a new shooting pain travel through your abdomen.

“Why are you watching a sad movie? This one always makes you cry.” Stewy asks as he can now see you and he knows the answer before he even finishes that question.

You’re awkwardly curled up on the couch with a blanket around you, an electric heat pad tucked into your pants against your abdomen to provide some relief against the sharp, pelvic stabbing. There’s water and chocolate nearby. Your face is in a grimace and Stewy can see that there are some tears in your eyes, he’s been around long enough to know that they’re a product of both your physical pain and tears from this film.

“Do you want to watch something else?” You softly ask rather than directly answering as you close your eyes, trying to sink further into the cushion on the sofa. It was quickly starting to feel like the migraine that had been haunting you for most of the day was coming back and sinking its cruel claws into you.

“Literally anything else that isn’t so depressing.” He bluntly says as he watches you carefully. He doesn’t really complain but he’s never really understood the whole sad comfort movie phenomenon, he’s hoping something a little lighter might be a better distraction.

“I have my period.” You say as you squeeze your eyes with another grimace, it’s a shoot wave and it feels like it’s poking your ovary.

“Who directed that one?” He asks as he comes closer to you.

He immediately knows the grimace and his heart pangs at that, he can tell you’re in pain but it seems like you’re in a state that you can put up with a bit of his humour. He’s hoping that it’ll at least make you smile a little or distract you just a small amount from the searing pain, even if it’s only for a brief minute.

“I guess you since I’m not pregnant.” You say with a small smirk trying to focus on Stewy’s kind teasing as a distraction.

“Huh, interesting, I don’t think I remember that one. Who was in it?” He questions, as he kneels down on the floor next to where your face is on the sofa. You chuckle a little, the smile feels nice but the small laugh does send another shooting pain up your side and you gasp at that before you’re able to respond.

“Well, not you since, again, I’m not pregnant.” You try to tease back.

“Noted.” Stewy chuckles with a small smile as he carefully smooths your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he pulls your blanket up around you a bit more. “Do you want some peppermint tea baby?”

“Yes please.” You reach for his hand to hold it as he kneels next to you. His hand quickly envelops yours, it’s nice and warm, comforting. But Stewy is always comforting. You wonder for a moment if it would be a better heat pad than your current one or maybe if he could just be an additional one.

“We’re out of berries.” You sadly whisper as your mind tries to focus on anything but the pain and a priority for you is of course that fruit, it’s one of the only things you feel like you could stomach right now, the chocolate had gotten too sweet far too quickly.

“We’re not. I’ll make some tea for you and get some, okay baby?” Stewy says as you continue to hold his hand and he strokes your cheek with his thumb, you can’t help but melt into his kind, safe touch.

“I don’t want to move, and I don’t want you to go.” You groan out as you curl inwards, trying to find some position that isn’t too uncomfortable while internally it feels like your organs and the endometriosis tissue are going off to another war against each other and you already know who has won.

“I’m not going anywhere. They’re frozen, there’s always an emergency stash for you.” Stewy reassures you as he continues to stroke your face and presses a few more soft kisses onto your head as he becomes more worried at your pain, he often thinks it and he knows you do too but moments like this always surprise at how awful such a common illness can be and he wishes that there was a cure, some magical treatment to completely prevent the flare-ups, that it wasn’t all trial and error and ridiculous potential side effects.

“Really?” You question, your eyes opening at that. That simple, thoughtful piece of knowledge is without a doubt, the highlight of your awful day. You’re so in love with him and grateful for him. You smile a little bit more at that.

“Yes… But it’s that bad you don’t want to move?” Stewy asks visibly concerned. As any partner would, he hates seeing you go through this and it always concerns him, how awful it is and that not much can really be done.

“If I move it eliminates the possibility of the couch swallowing me whole.” You nonchalantly answer.

It had been a fantasy you’d had when today’s endo flared up, the internal uprising had begun and it was still a very appealing fantasy. You were certain that if the couch did swallow you whole it would be rather soothing and you wouldn’t feel any pain.

“I guess I skimped out on this couch babe, it doesn’t have that feature. I’m sorry baby. But I did it because I know of your wanting to be couch-swallowed tendencies.” He teases as he continues to stroke your face and you giggle a little at his ridiculous joke.

Stewy’s many things, ridiculously handsome, intelligent, savvy and witty but he’s also extremely gentle and even goofy. You’re so grateful for him and he’s always this way with you, he’s so loving and you don’t think there’s ever been someone who has seen this all and has continued to show up, to support you and make you feel so loved. You wished this migraine wasn’t here and you could take in his physical beauty and not just his emotional beauty.

“I’m going to make you some tea and grab the berries, okay baby?” He asks softly in the sweetest voice he has, it’s a voice reserved only for you. It’s literal warm honey to your ears and soul. You nod, he kisses your hand and gets up to head to the kitchen.

You close your eyes again and snuggle into the blanket more. The couch still hasn’t swallowed you whole, unfortunately, which is surprising considering how large it is. But you suppose that’s a good thing since Stewy’s here now. You listen to the soft patter of his feet that you can hear in the kitchen and him humming as he opens cupboards, and makes the cup of tea.

After a couple of minutes, he comes back over, placing a bowl of the aforementioned berries onto the coffee table and has 2 mugs in his other hand. You move to try sitting up and he sits on the end of the sofa as he carefully hands you the mug of the warm peppermint tea. It’s so nice and warm in your hands, you take a few sips of it and then a large gulp, wanting the herbal medicinal effects to hurry up and kick in. You hold the warm mug in your hands for a few moments, basking in the heat as Stewy sits next to you with his hand running up and down your back, soothingly tracing gentle patterns across it.

You lean over to place the mug carefully onto a coaster on the coffee table, you try to stretch a little as you know movement will help but it feels impossible. You then lean back and curl up into Stewy’s side but after a few moments you slink down until you’re lying on the couch again but with your head and part of your upper body curled up into his lap. You close your eyes as you feel the gentle movements of his stomach moving a little with each breath and the warmth of his cosy, signature turtleneck.

“Do you have a migraine as well honey?” He asks softly and you nod.

“It’s been on and off all day, like a goddamn ghost haunting me in a haunted house.” You exasperatedly sigh.

His heart breaks at that and he quickly moves a hand to gently massage at your lower back, he knows it always gets tense and is frequently a source of pain during your flare-ups. But he moves his other hand so that he can gently press a bit of pressure to the pressure point near your temple to try and bring you a bit of relief from your migraine.

“Is that okay?” He gently asks as he continues.

You smile at the feeling, of having such gentleness, love and support. Despite the pain and how cheesy it sounds, just his presence is already helping and giving you a bit of comfort during this awful pain. You nod quickly, moving your hand up to give a gentle squeeze to the hand massaging your lower back.

“Yes sweetie, thank you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too baby.” He says as he continues with what he’s doing. The film eventually ends and he’s happy about that, he’s silently praying that your next choice might be something a bit lighter or that you’ll be open to a minor suggestion, although he totally respects that not being the case. Today is a day with you and your comfort being the focus.

You’ve had some more meds and you’re still in pain but you’re feeling a little bit more comfortable with movement and having an extra blanket around you. You sit up for a moment to drink some more of the tea and eat some of the mostly thawed-out frozen berries. There’s something about the cold taste of them that helps during a flare you swear. You look at Stewy and the migraine is definitely currently feeling a little bit better.

You’re in awe of his gentleness and the way that those deep brown doe eyes of his are looking at you with adoration, even with you looking and feeling absolutely miserable. He’s always been handsome but there’s something even more special about him in moments like this you think.

“Thank you for-” You start to say before he can cut you off.

“You don’t need to thank me for this baby.” “But-”

“No, I don’t even want you to try.” He says with a playful but kind smirk on his face as he looks at you.

You laugh a little and nod. Then lean over to give him a kiss on the lips, it’s soft, gentle, warm and loving. You feel yourself melt into the gentle but brief kiss, and his hands gently rub at your back as he kisses you back softly. It’s a sweet kiss and when you pull away, you place your hand on the side of his cheek, feeling the perfectly trimmed dark stubble of his beard.

“I really do love you, you know?” You say with a small smile.

“I know, it kind of helps in these romantic situations.” He teases and you roll your eyes before moving back down to lay in his lap again. “But I love you too baby.” He has a hand stroking your face again and you can feel yourself starting to feel like maybe napping is finally an option. “Did you want a bath?” He asks after a moment of thought.

“I had one a few hours before you came home.” You answer tiredly.

“Did you want another one?” He asks in that ridiculously sweet voice that would absolutely melt you if you weren’t in so much pain.

“Maybe later.” You pause for a moment thinking while in his lap and enjoying being surrounded by him and the warmth from his body, the heat pads, and the blankets. “Did you want to watch Little Women?” You ask a little bit more cheerily. You hear Stewy sigh a little at that.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He’s so glad it’s something a bit happier than Dead Poets Society. “I think I’m more handsome than Laurie.” He says it almost absentmindedly as the film starts.

“You are.” You immediately agree, he is, without a doubt and always has been, no matter what adaptation you watch. Although the 2019 one is a favourite in this household. “But you are an Amy.”

“What?” He asks in shock.

“You are!” You respond with a smirk.

“If you weren’t in excruciating pain right now I’d consider biting you.” He says it mockingly and you giggle a little at that.

“Are you saying you don’t want to play bitey?” You tease. Knowing that as you’d gotten older that was not a normal game in normal households.

“Well, I know for a fact that you don’t like bitey.” Stewy immediately says, it was a fact, Shiv was always known for taking the game too far. “But I just can’t believe you’d say that baby, that’s cruel. I’m so not an Amy.”

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lythea-creation · 2 months

Text

I Love Her More - Tasneem/Hiba x fem reader (Chapter 1)

summary: What happens when Hiba and Tasneem find out they're in love with the same girl? Will they be able to save their friendship? And what does (f/n) think about her friends fighting over her?

warnings: eating disorder

word count: 1.234

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated! If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

In this story you will be able to pick your love interest, which will happen in the next chapter. Hope you like it!

Requested by @jj156

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

Tasneem's PoV

“What pictures should I share next?”, I wondered, handing my phone over to Hiba.

We were hanging out at my home right now, which was not rare for us. After all she was my best friend.

“That one's hot”, she suggested. “Oh, and take this one, too.”

My mom was not home. So we were sitting on the couch in the living room.

“Isn't this one a bit too sexy?”, I considered.

“Nah. It's alright. Look at this”, she declared, showing me a pic of herself.

In comparison to that mine was still innocent. Yet I would not judge her for it. It was completely in a gray zone.

“What else do you have?”, I inquired, taking her phone from her.

Meanwhile she was skipping through my gallery.

Hiba was absolutely great at taking pictures.

I stopped in my tracks when I found a picture of (f/n). I could not help but stare at it for a while.

She was sitting in class, apparently listening to Miss Abeer. Her focused gaze was kinda cute. Therefore I had my difficulties to skip to the next picture.

The more I scrolled through Hiba's gallery though, the more pictures of (f/n) I found. The weird thing about that was that (f/n) was never looking into the camera.

Something was off.

“Hiba? Why do you have so many pictures of (f/n) on her phone?”, I asked her bluntly.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”.

I presented her collection to her.

“Guess I always forgot to delete them”, she brushed it off, wearing a poker face.

“Why did you take them in the first place?”, I continued.

“Why does it matter? It's nothing unusual to have pictures of your friends on your phone”, she shot back, obviously getting irritated.

“What about your other friends then? Wait! Do you like her?”, I assumed.

“Maybe I do. So what?”, she proposed.

A pit formed inside my stomach. This could not be true.

“You can't like her”, I exclaimed.

“Why not? Because she's a girl? Come on, Tasneem! I didn't think you were homophobic”, she stated.

“No! You can't have her. I've had a crush on her for months now”, I proclaimed.

“And yet you're still dating Omar”, she reminded me. “But that doesn't matter anyway. (f/n) wouldn't want somebody superficial like you.”

“You're calling me superficial? Have you taken a look in the mirror recently?”

“At least I don't stuff my mouth with junk and hang over the toilet whenever something bothers me. It's only a matter of time until she finds out and then she's gonna be so grossed out by you that she will never even want to look at you again”, she claimed.

That was an excruciatingly low blow. I had not even known that Hiba was aware of my eating disorder. But throwing it at me like that made me question our whole friendship.

“You know what? You may be pretty, but that's all you got. You're a bitch who cares about nobody but herself. The only thing you can do is make everyone else feel miserable, so you don't feel as shitty about your life. That's why nobody wants to hang out with you. The only friends you have are around because of me”, I ranted.

“Wow”, Hiba mumbled and left abruptly.

Her teary eyes were burned into my mind, knowing that I had caused all of this. But right now I could not care less.

Ironically I did exactly what Hiba had accused me of. Retreat to my eating disorder.

Actually Hiba was my only friend that mattered to me, but from time to time I just could not stand her mean attitude. Yet I had not meant to lose her completely.

What was I supposed to do now?

Hiba was stubborn and hurt, which was not a good combo.

Every time I tried to approach her throughout the next days, she would straight up ignore me. Until she did not.

“Why are you even trying to talk to me? You made yourself pretty clear that you couldn't stand me. So just leave me alone”, Hiba grumbled as I had met her outside in the break.

“Hiba, I'm sorry. You're my best friend. I don't want us to be fighting”, I apologized.

“You're sorry because you can't stand the fight. Not because you're actually sorry”, she accused me.

“So what? If I remember it correctly, you were the one starting this in the first place”, I reminded her.

“Oh! Now I'm the villain. I mean … of course I am. Because little Miss Perfect could never do anything wrong”, she remarked.

You know what? Maybe you're right and this whole thing between us just doesn't work out. You wanna be a bitch? Then be my guest! I won't bother you again”, I declared and walked off without looking back.

The urge to binge was unbearable. Therefore I was relieved to have two pastries in my school bag, who were gone in the matter of a minute.

For that one minute everything else seemed to fade away. But it was over quickly and instead of my initiate pain, the guilt and fear of ruining my hard work kicked in.

My feet were moving on their own, carrying me to the bathroom, where I made sure that nobody was inside.

Then I let it all come out, deleted the sugar and fat and countless calories from my system.

A tear slid down my cheek. Was life really supposed to this excruciating?

I wiped the tear away and got out of the stall, cleaning myself up at the sink. Apparently I was having tunnel vision because I had not noticed someone standing across from me.

“Tasneem ...” It was (f/n). Shit!

I felt myself flinch out of surprise, making a mess with the water covering my hands.

The look on her face told me that she had heard me.

“Hey. Sorry you had to hear that. I think I've eaten something wrong”, I lied.

“So you're gonna go home now?”, she questioned.

“Nah. I'm already feeling better”, I brushed it off.

“You're not”, she claimed.

“No offense, but how do you want to know that?”, I shot back.

“It's written all over you”, she insisted. “Is that what you're doing when you claim to use the restroom?”

“What are you even talking about? I was just feeling sick”, I exclaimed.

She flinched slightly when I yelled at her, making the guilt return. It was not fair to let all my bottled up emotions out on her.

“You are sick, Tasneem. But not the way you're claiming to be. It's okay. I'm not judging you or anything. I just want to help you”, she noted softly.

I avoided to look at her, completely out of words. She knew. It was too late to convince her otherwise.

Suddenly she wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in a comforting hug.

“You're so tall”, she stated after a while, grinning up at me.

“You're just short”, I teased her, making both of us chuckle.

For a short moment I forgot about everything weighing me down. I wished life could always be this easy.

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

Now it's time to pick your poison ... I mean girlfriend oc

Tasneem

Hiba

Tag List: @sunwoniie

#al rawabi school for girls #lgbtqia +#angst #romance #drama #female reader #tasneem #hiba x reader #tasneem x reader #eating disoder trigger warning

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scarletwritesshit · 1 year

Text

Yosuke Hanamura x F!Reader ❀ Town of Blossoms ❀ June 8th, 2013

The room remained rather cold overnight, as the air conditioner was never turned down to accommodate the slightly more tolerable cool nighttime air. Despite it being practically on full blast, your body consistently remained at a comfortable temperature. You felt as if you could sleep for another twenty hours between the air conditioner combating the summer heat and the warmth of Yosuke's body balancing out the freezing air. Thermodynamic equilibrium stands true as the ideal way to sleep.

Wait a second. What was that part about the warmth of Yosuke’s body?

Once your realization had a moment to sink in, you opened your eyes to find that it was not your thoughts playing tricks on you, as if they were fragments of a long-desired dream that you may have experienced in the midst of a deep slumber. Yosuke was out cold directly beside you, clinging onto your body and weighing you down, preventing you from freely moving.

Here, you considered two equally less than ideal options. You could attempt to slide out of his bed and risk disturbing him, resulting in a painfully awkward confrontation. Or, you could stay put, and hope that he didn’t realize that you were awake long before he was. Either way, it was far too early in the morning to be explaining yourself.

Yosuke wasn’t entirely innocent himself, however. He was the one who fell asleep on you in the first place, not to mention the countless other mildly questionable moves of his in the past. Despite this, you didn’t hold him at fault for dozing off on you. The movie was quite awful, and anyone with the slightest bit of standards would fall asleep themselves.

Ultimately, you decided to let him rest. From the sound of things, yesterday seemed to be rather miserable and exhausting for him anyways, and allowing him a comfortable rest was the least that you could do. After all, that’s what best friends are for, right? Surely, there’s nothing weird about two close friends comfortably sharing a bed for the night.

For a short period of time, you laid awake and remained as relaxed as you possibly could in order to avoid waking him up by accident. Chances are, he was probably going to be rather awkward and apologetic for falling asleep on you once he wakes up. Hopefully, he remembered your words of reassurance from last night, and would not think too much of this.

As you were quietly laying down, you were rather spaced out, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally, you would turn your head to check to see if Yosuke was close to waking up. Eventually, you felt him gently stir in your arms. You loosened your grip to allow him a bit more freedom, despite craving just a few more moments of being able to hold him close. He stretched his body and opened his eyes, with the first thing that he saw being you looking directly at him. He sleepily blinked, as if he couldn’t quite believe the state that he had woken up in.

“Ughh…don’t tell me that I’ve been here all night,” he mumbled.

“Don’t you recall?” you said. “The movie you put in was so bad that we both practically conked out on the spot.”

“Oh yeah…I remember now.

“…Oh man. I remember,” he said, as if he had only just realized.

You didn’t say anything, as you were waiting for how he was going to ultimately respond. Despite his apparent realization, Yosuke remained comfortably beside you, without any form of a struggle to pry himself away from you. It wasn’t like you were restraining him or anything, as your hold on him remained rather gentle. After a few nervous blinks, Yosuke shoved his face into what little mattress space remained between you and him.

“This…this is awful…” he said, choking on his words.

“Hm? What do you mean?” you said, confused by his complaints.

“This is a bit weird, don’t you think? Considering how we’re…y’know.”

“I don’t have a problem with it. Besides, this is probably the best sleep that I’ve had in a long while.”

Yosuke lifted his head from the mattress and rolled to his side to face you clearly. Though he seemed upset due to “accidentally” dozing off in your arms, there was an aura of curiosity or perhaps confusion about him.

“Come to think of it, same here, but aren’t you feeling a bit weird about all of this? Perhaps even worried?”

“Worried about what, exactly?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno. Allowing me to become too close to you?”

“It’s too early for this. You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“Ah, well, actually never mind. You’re right about it being too early,” he said, while pushing himself upright. Rather than try to hold him down and make him clarify what he meant, you moved your arm to allow him to get up easier.

Yosuke seemed like he had something he wanted to say, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Now, what he meant was going to bother you all day. What exactly did he mean by “becoming too close,” and why would something of this degree bother him after the two of you passed out simply because of an agonizingly painful movie?

Was he afraid of you finally getting sick of him, just like the reasons why he believed that the Investigation Team left him behind? Or perhaps, his worries were deeper rooted than they seemed on the outside.

You finally sat yourself up, leaving behind the warmth that still remained. You were immediately hit with the reality of just how cold his bedroom had become overnight. It was a miracle that the air conditioner did not freeze over from the constant blast of freezing air.

Well, he did say it was like his own personal Junes freezer. And he wasn’t kidding, as you were shivering due wearing rather light clothing and having no blankets. Yosuke, though still in a bit of a sleepy daze, took quick note of your shivering.

“Hey, if you missed sleeping next to me that badly, you could’ve just said so,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I’ll bump up the temperature a little,” he said, finally getting up to turn down the intensity of the air conditioner. He grabbed a blanket that he had previously thrown on the floor and tossed it over to you, so that you at least wouldn’t be faced with the ironic fate of freezing to death in the middle of a heat wave. The sun had been up for a few hours now, so it already began rapidly warming up outside, yet it was nowhere near reaching the day’s potential for scorching heat.

It most certainly wasn’t hot enough yet to keep the room as cold as a literal freezer.

“Uh…do you want some breakfast?” he asked. “My parents are probably out dealing with the crowds today, so don’t expect much out of me. All I can really do is fry a few eggs, and even then, there’s no guarantee that there won’t be any eggshells hidden around in there.”

“I can help you prepare something, if you’d like,” you offered.

“It’s fine. Besides, I don’t think we have too much laying around anyways. Can’t really cook much without the risk of blowing out the power.”

He opened up his bedroom door and quickly slid out, in order to not let too much cold air seep out. With him gone for a few minutes, it would’ve been the perfect opportunity for you to perhaps change into some fresh clothes, instead of the t-shirt and shorts that you have fallen asleep in. Instead, you simply fell back onto his bed.

You were still a bit concerned about his words prior. What did he mean by you growing too close to him? Was he starting to think that you were acting just a bit too friendly with him? Then again, he didn’t exactly object to laying with you, but sometimes, Yosuke can be too nice for his own good.

It was one of many cases that you were unable to tell with him. No harm, no foul, you supposed, but if he was truly upset, and didn’t say anything, then it could endanger any chance of a relationship with him.

Not that you would be aiming for one or anything. A rather absurd idea, considering how good friends you two were. Dangerously good friends, even.

No sense of worrying about it now. You had faith in him that he would very clearly tell you if he was genuinely upset with any of your actions. He was no way the type to repress his irritation, especially after he had almost killed a, relatively speaking, innocent man who had unfortunate connections to the Inaba killings. It was almost as if he was more worried about something than anything. But what was it?

The opening of his door disrupted your thoughts, and Yosuke walked in with two plates stacked on each other, each with a fried egg on top. They smelled relatively overcooked, yet not to a state where they would be inedible.

They were certainly nowhere near the atrocities that were Chie and Yukiko’s cooking, no, laboratory experiments.

“Is my bed really that comfy?” he asked, looking at you lazily sprawled out.

“Well you do have a nice bed, but truth to be told, I just don’t feel like moving,” you said.

“I can’t blame you. It’s after 10, yet I feel like I could take another nap.”

“There’s always the option of simply going back to sleep,” you said, lazily pushing yourself up.

“That does sound nice but…I’m good,” he said, sitting down beside you. He brushed off what looked to be like pink petals on his nightstand and placed one of the plates on top of it.

If he was truly discouraged from being around you because of the little slip up earlier, then he was doing an awful job of showing it. Perhaps it was ultimately best let go of, just like the numerous other things that you had promised yourself to no longer think of. Despite this mindset, you continuously allowed them to return to your thoughts. Like what he had said while you were sitting alone with him at Junes, or the time that you thought that you were about to-

“They’re a little burnt, but far from inedible,” he said, handing you a plate with an egg on it. You observed his efforts at cooking, and for someone who had likely never been taught to use a stove properly, you had to admire his efforts. Some of it appeared to be crispier than the rest, but nothing was reduced to revolting ash or…a mysterious toxic concoction.

It didn’t taste horrible, either.

Thankfully, Yosuke seemed to not have anything else to say about this morning. Unspoken agreement to not speak of it again, perhaps? It really wasn’t worth overthinking, anyways. Completely normal behavior for friends to share a bed once in a while. Probably.

Though, he seemed to not have much to say at all. After he had finished eating his breakfast, he stared down at the empty plate that he was holding.

“Yosuke?” you said, getting his attention. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I just don’t know what to get into today, that’s all.”

“Staring at your plate isn’t going to help.”

“Would you rather be staring at Featherman II: Turbo?”

“Please no,” you said, desperately shaking your head, “I don’t even think that I could last through the first ten minutes again. It was more awful than the other awful movies that you had suggested before.”

“Hey! In my defense, I assumed that this so-called revolutionary take on the series was going to be, oh I don’t know, at least a few more fight scenes or even a tolerable storyline! All the movie ended up being was akin to that of a two hour long unskippable cutscene.”

“Probably should’ve read the reviews before you got yourself all hyped up for it.”

“That’s the thing, I did. Guess I have a totally different idea on what makes a good movie than most people,” he said, taking your empty plate and stacking it on top of his. He then slid off of his bed and walked towards the door.

“You just don’t want to admit that you were overly hyped for an overwhelmingly disappointing piece of film.”

“Like that means a lot coming from you, considering you tastes,” he said, looking back at you and smiling. Yosuke then made his swift escape from his bedroom before you could counteract his argument.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you yelled, though likely not loud enough for him to hear. Perhaps he did hear you, but he chose not to respond.

Absolute coward, thinking his taste in movies was still superior to yours after the disaster that was Featherman II: Turbo. Though, it was a bit of a masterpiece, just not in the way that it would normally be defined as one. Somehow, it was so incredibly awful that it managed to make two very good friends fall asleep, in a bed together nonetheless. To you, it was a blessing in disguise. To Yosuke, it was now a source of eternal torment for him.

Or perhaps he enjoyed a restful night’s sleep with you, and his true cowardliness lied within his absolute refusal to openly admit it.

#persona 4 #p4 #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #yosuke hanamura #yosuke hanamura x reader

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estoniacobaltpayne · 2 years

Text

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal X GN! Reader

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, cursing

A/N: ok so you know how they announced that Bruno was like... the golden child when he was younger? Well I like to imagine that that lasted through his teenage years and o f . c o u r s e that level of power and popularity would go to a teenager’s head so I like to imagine that Bruno was a Grade A Asshole as a teenager, all cocky and maybe a lil smarmy, who had lots of cronies and partners and friends. I feel like it makes his fall from grace even sadder and gives his personality by the time we meet him in the movie more of an impact. I hate that Bruno is always portrayed as this little “uwu 👉🏼👈🏼” boy in fics. Like I get it after 10 years of isolation in the walls, because that’s kinda how he is sometimes in the movie, but I like to think he was a little less clinically insane before his isolation. Anyways, enjoy :D

Your friendship with Bruno Madrigal wasn’t normal; at the very least, in comparison to your other friendships.

You didn’t spend most of your waking hours with your other friends.

You didn’t braid your other friends’ hair.

You didn’t write dramatic love scenes with your other friends.

You certainly didn’t act out said love scenes with your other friends.

You didn’t have distinct speech patterns and banters with your other friends.

You weren’t as much of an asshole to your other friends, nor were they to you.

And you absolutely did not spend 4 nights or more out of the week cuddling all night as you watched shit TV shows and movies with your other friends.

Those were such things only reserved for Bruno. Such things only reserved for someone you were undeniably in love with.

You hadn’t always felt that way towards him, though; in fact, when you were younger, Bruno Madrigal was someone you absolutely avoided at all costs. The Madrigal triplets were always at the center of attention, and why wouldn’t they be? With their magical abilities and their tireless efforts for the Encanto, how could anyone not love them? And as a teenager, you agreed with those sentiments- at least towards the sisters, Julieta and Pepa.

You weren’t friends, per se, with the sisters, but at least they were kind to you. They’d engage in lighthearted conversation when seated next to you in school. They’d invite you to the soirees hosted at La Casa Madrigal for the older girls in school. They wouldn’t flinch away from you when you spoke to them like the other girls higher up on the food chain than you, and they wouldn’t bemoan having to work with you on assignments.

But Bruno, the prodigal son, on the other hand, was not your biggest fan, nor were you his. As an adolescent he was infinitely popular, with his strange yet unbelievably powerful gift of foresight, his attractive features, and his party trick of glowing neon eyes. He was constantly surrounded by peers trying to obtain his favour; constantly surrounding himself with friends, lovers, partners, significant others, admirers, acquaintances, and lower lifeforms trying to claw their way up the totem pole by praising him and adhering to his every beck and call.

Bruno Madrigal was popular, and he knew it. He was cocky, and a bully. But admittedly, he was a good actor, and adults often bought his feigned niceness and innocence, and he knew this, too. And something about him knowing all this allowed him to think he had the go-ahead to be asshat no. 1. Especially to people who didn’t spend their time sucking up to him.

People, like you.

Bruno never missed a chance to make your life miserable, and every time he failed to get a rise out of you, he doubled his efforts on his next attempt. Never dismissing an opportunity to make rude comments about you in front of the class when your name was mentioned, or when you unashamedly gave your best effort to answer a question, even if it was wrong. Never giving up a moment to belittle you, or tease you, or try to make your life a living hell.

Your mama always told you that he was just insecure; that he was jealous that you were confident, your own person, and not afraid to defy his need for control over the populous of your peers. But it didn’t change the fact that years of his torment took its toll on you.

And in your early twenties, when Bruno Madrigal fell from his pedestal- when he started giving out darker and uglier visions that people couldn’t stomach and he lost his power over the Encanto- you were relieved. You laughed, even, when your peers turned their backs on him and realised that people like yourself weren’t as bad as the fallen prince had deemed. But the charm of being out of the hot seat only lasted so long. No matter how badly you wanted to, you could never be as much of an asshole to him as he was to you. And in the instances where you passed each other in the street, and he waved out a timid hello with a wiggle of his slender fingers with eyes peering out from behind shaggy curls, you couldn’t help but nod your head in return. When your peers descended on him to deplore him in front of his family, you couldn’t help but defend him. When others would see him coming and duck out of the way or suddenly turn a corner to avoid him, you couldn’t help but frown, and raise your eyebrows and give him an apologetic smile.

It all changed one night at the cantina. Your friends were late meeting you there, and so you sat yourself down at the bar to start your night of drinking while you waited for them. As you went to take a sip from your drink, you had to do a double take as you saw at the very end to your left, the fallen prince hunched over a glass of what you could only assume was mezcal añejo on the rocks. A stubborn frown adorned his face, eyes hazy and plastered downward, trained on what must be some fascinating details in the wooden bar top. You argued with yourself for a moment about sliding down to talk to him, and you figured you probably looked like an idiot doing so, with your head bobbing back and forth as you mentally debated. Finally, you decided to bite the bullet. He just looked so… pathetic down at the end of the bar, all by himself. What’s the worst that could happen, you asked yourself. If he was a jerk to you, you could turn around and never give him the the benefit of the doubt again.

You opted to not sit on the barstool directly to his right, instead skipping it and taking the next one over. He didn’t look up as you did so, but even from one seat over and without him facing you, you could smell the smokiness of the liquor and the lime wafting off of him.

“There’s no gusano, if that’s what you’re coming over here for,” he slurred out before you even had a chance to fully settle into your seat.

“What?”

He just shrugged and continued to stare into his glass, swirling the ball of ice around. “I dunno, just seems like you’d be the type to eat it.”

You looked at him incredulously and immediately realised that this was a bad idea. And yet your mouth acted without your consent anyways. “You know, most mezcal doesn’t actually have one in it- it’s just a myth,” you stated defiantly. “And what makes you think I’d want to eat a grub?”

His nostrils flared as he laughed through his nose, his lips pulling into a tight smile. “You’re the weirdest person I know.”

Your eyes widened and your head turned towards him in a tilt, “you little-“

“And you’re the most fearless person I know.”

Now that shut you up; took whatever words that were growing in your diaphragm and killed them before they even reached your tongue.

“I was nothing but a dick to you all throughout school, and yet you’re the one approaching me because I probably look like the most miserable piece of shit in the entire joint.” He paused, before furrowing his brows and shaking his head. “That’s bravery. Courage. And honestly, more kindness than I deserve.”

You let out a single, hearty ‘ha’, your head thrown back as you added with a roll of your eyes, “yeah, you’re right about that last part for sure.”

At last he finally looked up at you, his brows risen and his face scrunched into a disbelieving smile as he chuckled through his nose again. As you looked into his green eyes, you realised that this was probably the most domestic and tranquil encounter you’d ever had with the fortune teller. He must have realised it too, because all too quickly his eyes widened and he shot his head back down to his drink, his hair curtaining his entire face sans the tip of his round and freckled nose.

You sat in semi-comfortable silence for a few more minutes, sipping your drinks, before he opened his mouth again.

“Eres el milagro que necesito pero no merezco.”

Your eyes widened. You figured that the liquor had finally replaced all the air in his head, because there was no way he just said that, right?

Something about Bruno’s drunken honesty must have sparked something within you that night, because after that, you slowly but surely became acquaintances with him. And your unexpected kindness towards their strange brother gave Pepa and Julieta more of a desire to talk to you, and you became better friends with them. Alma Madrigal, the head honcho of the entire Encanto started to look upon you with more favour. They invited you round to casita more often for lunches, and as such, you became closer friends with all of them. But the more time you spent with them, the more time you spent with Bruno, and eventually, the younger, chagrined part of you found yourself surprised to find that you considered him your closest friend.

And soon enough, you found yourself doing all the things with Bruno Madrigal you wouldn’t find yourself doing with anyone else.

It came as much of a shock to your mama as it had to you, after all he was an ass to you as a kid and she did not fail to mention that that was “without mentioning the fact that he’s a bad omen.” But one look at you and Bruno together told her everything she needed to know. Things neither you or Bruno even knew yet.

Alma noticed it, too. Julieta and Pepa noticed it, and after the sisters pointed it out to them, their fiancé and husband, respectively, noticed it too.

You didn’t notice it when you spent one too many nights over at each other’s houses, staying up all night to watch bad telenovelas and drink wine.

Bruno didn’t notice it when he’d show up to family dinner with flowers poorly braided into his hair and his sisters and mother would give him confused but knowing stares.

Neither of you would notice the wide-eyed glances and the “they’re together? They always hated each others!”’s as you walked through town during market days.

To everyone else, it took an embarrassingly long time for you to notice each other. The years spent watching your obliviousness towards each other was excruciating for the Encanto.

Bruno knew he loved you much earlier than you realised your feelings for him. You were in his room, the both of you sitting propped up against the headboard of his bed. You had been helping him revise his writing, nothing new. It was somewhere around 4:30 in the morning and in the midst of his reading out loud you had fallen asleep. He hadn’t even noticed, too engrossed with finding any mistakes in his work, until he felt your head fall into his shoulder. He just quietly laughed, changed his position so the both of you might be more comfortable, and thought to himself, “so this is what love is like.” Secretly, deep down, he realised he might have always wanted your approval and that’s why he was so mean to you as a child, because you wouldn’t give it to him. And now that he finally had it, he knew he’d never let it go.

It took longer for you to notice, but eventually and inevitably, you did. And when you finally noticed your feelings for the fallen prince, it hit you like a ton of bricks. It was Julieta’s and Augustin’s wedding day. You and Bruno had been together since the early hours of the morning. Not like he was your date, as you adamantly explained to your mama, and your papa, and Felix, and Pepa (multiple times with that one), and Julieta, and Augustin, and the priest, and… everyone. No he wasn’t your date, he was just… picking you up that morning. You were just sitting together, in the front row, with the rest of his family, at his oldest sister’s wedding. You just exited together, arm in arm, trailing out after the newly married couple. You were just eating together at the reception. You were just dancing together, all night, not letting anyone cut in to steal either of you away from each other. You were just staring into his brilliantly green eyes during the couple’s dance. You were just thinking. You were just… in love with him.

And it hurt, in some ways, because of course it had to be Bruno fucking Madrigal, and you knew deep down your 18 year-old self would’ve killed you had you known that this was what was to happen. Had Bruno himself given you a prophetic vision of that very moment of the two of you dancing at Julieta’s wedding, you would’ve locked the both of you up in fear you’d both gone crazy. But another part of you knew that this was the most ‘right’ you’d ever felt in your life. Never had you felt anything stronger for anyone else and never in your life would you ever want to attempt to feel like this for anyone else.

But lord knows the both of you were cowards.

And as long as it took for you and Bruno to admit your feelings to yourselves, it wouldn’t even compare to how long it took you to admit them to each other.

It wasn’t for a lack of opportunities, either.

You could’ve told him the night Julieta invited you over for dinner, because she was announcing that her and Augustin were having a baby, that the first of the grandchildren would be arriving in La Casa Madrigal in 8 months or less. It wasn’t like you didn’t go upstairs and hang out all night long afterwards. Feelings and impressions of intimacy were running rampant all evening with the announcement of a baby, and you desperately wanted to tell him, but you didn’t.

Bruno very well could’ve told you the night of Dolores’ gift ceremony, because all throughout the night you were there, grounding him, keeping him from going berzerk amongst the crowds of people celebrating the arrival of a new door. Your shoulders bumping his every so often comforted him as his social anxiety coursed through him. His eyes never strayed too far from your form for too long, only looking away long enough to acknowledge whoever dared to speak to Bad Luck Bruno, before quickly reverting back to you. You didn’t notice him staring, and thank god you didn’t, because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if you did. When his family forced him away from you to stand at their side as Dolores walked up the stairs to her door, all he could think about was you, down amongst the masses of people. All he could think about was how he desperately wanted to run to you and tell you how badly he needed you, how in secret he thought about what gift his child might receive should he ever have one, and how if he ever did, he’d want to have one with you. But lo and behold, as he watched you dance with his sisters in Dolores’ new room, he resigned himself to the fact that he was a wallflower; he didn’t have the unashamed arrogance he once possessed as a teenager, and the thought of telling you and risking losing altogether you was so much worse than having you at the excruciating distance you were at. And so, he didn’t tell you then, either.

Bruno should’ve told you on your 32nd birthday. You were all gathered in your house for a small dinner, with the Madrigals, your parents, and a few of your other friends. Bruno had been sat at your left all night, a perfect view of you as you commanded the party from your spot at the head of the table. All eyes were on you, and Bruno figured he had the perfect excuse to stare at you all night. You had just finished dessert and presents were now being passed around. You were too kind for your own good, Bruno thought, as you expressed genuine “thank you”’s with every gift, even the shitty ones, a bright grin on your face. And yet you had no idea just how much of a gift your smile was to Bruno. You were so much better than any gift his family ever received from the miracle. You were the gift he needed but didn’t deserve. You had already opened the present from the Madrigal family, but he had one for you that was just from him. But he’d only give it to you once all the others had been opened and everyone returned back to their respective conversations. He wanted you all to himself when he gave his gift to you. And slowly, as everyone dispersed their attention away from the gift opening and back to their conversations, he leaned over and whispered in your name in your ear, pressing a small box into your hand underneath the table. You looked at him confused, before pulling the box up to examine it. You tried to tell him that you already got a gift from the Madrigals but he just smiled and shook his head, urging you to open the box. You gave him the most beautifully giddy smile he’d ever seen you produce before you ripped the ribbon and the paper off and opening the little box. Inside was a necklace on a short but durable chord carrying an emerald flower. It wasn’t dainty, but neither were you. He told you he had the pendant made from the only vision he’s ever had of you; that he was in his late teens when he had it, and it came to him accidentally from the midst of another vision. But it was a vision of you nonetheless, older and happier than you had been at the time he had the vision. He told you that he never could get rid of it, and it sat on a shelf for years and years and years before he had recently thought to turn it into a necklace. You noticed your face faintly displayed in the necklace, distorted by the shaped details in the glass, and when you held it in a certain way, the bumps and ridges of the flower lined up perfectly and your face was clear as day. It nearly brought tears to your eyes and the smile you had on your face etched itself into Bruno’s core memory. He so badly wanted to press his own smile against yours and just melt into you, and for moment it was just you and him in the room and he almost did. But the sudden silence broke through to his consciousness and that’s when the both of noticed the rest of the room regarding the two of you. Bruno’s confidence instantly died away, and he didn’t tell you after all.

You should’ve told him when you saw an angry villager marching out of his vision cave as you entered for your near-daily visit. As the villager passed by you, he regarded you with a look of distaste and anger, but you paid it no mind, you knew how these readings of the future went for both the giver and the receiver. But Bruno had been so badly degraded by the man who hadn’t liked what future he’d been shown for his life. He knew the risks- they all did when they asked for a vision, Bruno never failed to express to them what they were getting into- and yet, he blamed him. He shot the messenger. And as you climbed the stairway leading up to his vision cave (which you swore had more stairs in it every time you climbed it), you could only imagine what Bruno’s face might look like. He never liked you to see him after a day filled with delivering prophecies. He always said he was tired; always said you might not find him as handsome as you normally would (to which you’d laugh, both at his joke and secretly at the fact that you’d never not find him attractive). When you reached the top of the stairs, all you saw was the door to his vision cave gently swinging back and forth, and an eery green glow emanating from within. You tentatively peaked your head in and called his name.

“Go away,” was all he managed. His back was towards you as he sat with his legs sprawled straight out in front of him in the sand, his back slouched and his head trained forward at the wall.

“Bruno, it’s just me-“ you started, but you didn’t have the chance to finish before his shoulders heaved and in a voice darker than you’ve ever heard him use repeated, “I said, go away.”

But you were one stubborn idiot, and you didn’t go away. Instead you sat to his left in the sand. Ever so gently you took his hand, tracing the lines in his palm with the pads of your right thumb. The room was dead silent for a good while, save for the squeaking of the door hinges, but you weren’t keeping time, and you certainly weren’t going to rush him into talking.

Finally, the fallen prince broke his silence. “He wanted to know if he had a shot at romance, but it’s always more complicated when they set their mind to one person, to one outcome. He wanted to know his future with one person and I told him it might not end well, I fucking told him to be open and reasonable to all outcomes but no, he wouldn’t listen.”

You were having a hard time listening to his ramblings, but you didn’t want to break the fragile moment by opening your fat mouth and asking for clarity, so you just waited for him to continue.

“He had his mind dead-set on one person, I’m guessing he’s wanted this one person for a long time.” He chuckled dryly. “I don’t know, and I don’t care, but it was cruel of him to ask it of me. Knowing what he does, what they all do and yet, he asked anyways. And when he didn’t like what he saw, well, you know the rest.”

You turned your head to the right and looked at him for the first time since entering his cave. You pointed the thumb of your free hand back towards the entrance to his room in reference. “Armando Alvarez? Why not just ask if he’ll ever be happy and in love? Who did he want to know if he ends up with?”

Bruno stiffened next to you before shaking his head. At last, he turned his head and looked deep into your eyes, which still swirled with dying bits of glowing emerald. You swore they were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen, but the upward draw of his brows and the grimace etched into his lips were a more pressing matter than his pupillary aesthetics. His eyes flitted back and forth, unconsciously trying to decide which of your own he should focus on.

Finally he opened his mouth, but he had to push to get the word out.

“You.”

You stiffened in surprise, a sharp intake of air entering your lungs before you shakily let it exit your body. You? Really? It was certainly flattering, but surely Armando Alvarez must surely know you have no interest in him. You’d talked to him what, maybe 6 times in your life? You knew you could count the number of times you’ve encountered the man between your two hands, that was for sure. At the very least, Armando Alvarez was a kind man, an honest man even, but he was not the brightest. You didn’t think, should you ever decide to settle for him, you could endure a lifetime of no intellectual stimulation. Bruno had spoiled you there, with his endless witticism. Regardless, you press on.

“Well, does he?”

“Does he what?”

“Win me.”

Bruno scowled. “You’re not a prize to be won. And even if you were, you’re certainly not one that that oaf could ever win.” He huffed a breathy laugh out from between his teeth. “Well, maybe in a wood chopping contest, but certainly not in the chess game that is romance. You’re too good for him.”

It was sweet to know that Bruno thought so highly of you. But one thing still didn’t make sense. What did Armando know? What did “they all” know?” You asked Bruno this and he tensed and turned away from you, finding intense interest in the sand beneath him. He was stock still and silent for a while, gathering and arranging his words.

“I don’t want to do visions about you. Not intentionally. Occasionally they just happen, they just slip out from beneath somewhere in my brain, but you’re too important to me to go around setting your life in stone. I won’t…“ he shuddered out a breath, “I can’t do that to you. You mean too much… no. No, you mean everything to me.”

Suddenly, you’d never been so sure that you knew exactly what your future would look like. You didn’t need one of the fortune teller’s visions to confirm. You just knew that it would involve him. You just knew you’d never spend another second without devoting everything you had in yourself to him.

And yet, even as he noticed the silent tears rolling down your face, even as he took his other hand- that is, the one you weren’t currently holding and he was now lacing his fingers through- and swiped his thumb across your cheekbone, trailing back and forth under your eye, down your cheek and across your lips, you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t just open your mouth and tell him that he means everything to you, too. And you almost thought about forgoing the words altogether and just kissing him for christ’s sake, but you were too shocked to move.

Suddenly, Alma Madrigal’s commanding voice rang out amongst the cavern walls of Bruno’s room as she called for her only son in disappointment of his ‘failed’ vision for señor Alvarez. You both shook yourselves back into focus, breaking the reverie, and you avoided looking at each other, all physical contact ceasing at a moment’s notice.

As you exited the cave together, you weren’t sure how to proceed as Bruno’s friend anymore. He would never be just your friend again, but at the same time you weren’t sure if that’s all you were to him or not. What if you had interpreted that moment wrong? What if he just cared about you, and that was that? What if he wasn’t in love with you like you were in love with him?

And as more time ticked away, you felt yourself falling further and further away from the idea that you and Bruno would eventually grow to be romantically involved. Surely, you thought, if something were to happen, it would have already. Too many years had passed. The of both of you were nearing 40 at this point, something should have happened between you. And yet, at the same time, you thought if he hadn’t loved you, at least a little, why hadn’t he gone after someone else? As much as he sometimes frightened the town with his visions, Bruno wasn’t completely hopeless in the love and sex department. He was an attractive man, and there were certainly plenty of people that would still want to be with him. Unlike Bruno, you weren’t oblivious to the attention he’d get from admirers, you knew he could find a partner should he want one, so why he hadn’t found one was a mystery to you. Unless…

He was in love with you too?

It was the night of Mirabel’s gift ceremony. It was a joyous night, with lots of laughter and food and drinks and dancing. Camilo’s ceremony had gone so well, and the Encanto was ready for another night of success. You were ready for success too. You were ready to tell Bruno, no matter the outcome. Should he love you too, great. Should your feelings go unrequited, well, you figured you and Bruno were good enough friends at that point that you could recover from that and move on from your awkward confession. You laughed with Pepa and Julieta so vibrantly before the ceremony; they told you they hadn’t seen you so open and carefree in so long. When they asked you as to why, you told them the truth- you were going to tell Bruno you loved him after Mirabel opened her door (you didn’t want to take Bruno’s attention off of Mirabel before her big moment). Smiles broke out onto their faces as they hugged you and welcomed you, finally and fully into La Familia Madrigal. They assured you that Bruno had been wanting to confess the same to you for so long, they were sure of it. After all, you did things with Bruno you didn’t do with your other friends.

As Alma called for the masses to gather round the staircase to begin the ceremony, you found yourself in a state of peace. A weight was being lifted off your shoulders with each step the young Madrigal took towards her new door. All she had to do was open it, and you’d be able to come clean to Bruno. But interestingly enough, Mirabel didn’t open the door. She couldn’t, as the door blackened and withered away to ash. And the weight came crashing right back down on top of you in an instant. The people around you scrambled and talked and worried and through it all you were numb to it. You thought it was selfish of yourself that your only thought that bounced around your head was, this is a bad omen for me, even as the Madrigals rushed to console a teary-eyed Mirabel, ushering her back into her old room and sending her sisters and cousins to bed. Alma wasted no time descending down the stairs in an attempt to ease the minds of the citizens of the Encanto that “the magic was strong.”

A sobering statement, considering that for the first time since its creation, the miracle failed. The guests around you started trickling out a handful at a time, after placing their worries and grievances with Alma. But you couldn’t move. You knew you should’ve just headed home, that this was a family matter, but something in you rooted you to your spot. The matriarch didn’t seem to mind; in all your time with Bruno, you’d spent more than enough time with her 3 children and her 5 grandchildren to be considered family. She’d known for long enough that one day she’d be able to call you her in-law, and she offered you a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder as she passed by you and back up the stairs to discuss the night’s events with her children waiting in her room.

They talked for hours, or at least, that’s what it felt like, as you sat in the courtyard. The night sky above you was growing darker and darker, until the only light left was that of the stars. At last, Julieta, Pepa, their husbands, and Bruno left Alma’s room, abuzz with the meaning of the night’s scandal. They were too wrapped up with what had happened, and rightfully so, to notice you curled up at the base of the stairs. You didn’t know why you hadn’t left yet, but something had told you to stay; something deep inside your conscience was telling you to wait for Bruno, that you needed to talk to him before it was too late. Too late for what, you didn’t know.

But this something was telling you that if you don’t tell him tonight, you’d never get the chance again. And so you hurled yourself to your feet, and lingered at the bottom of the stairs a minute, gathering and preparing yourself. Was it the right time to tell him, after everything that happened earlier in the evening? Casita seemed to think so, as it pushed your feet up gently with the tiles beneath you, a small encouragement to urge you up the stairs and towards Bruno’s room. With one final deep breath, you started your ascent. You took your time, as with each step you grew more and more nervous.

As you neared the top, the door to Bruno’s room quietly opened as its owner stepped out and down the little hall preceding it. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you 3/4s of the way up the stairs, concerned and confused as to why you were still here. Not that he wasn’t happy to see you- he was always happy to see you.

“You’re… still here. It’s late, you should’ve been in bed hours ago,” Bruno nearly whispered as he approached the top of the stairs.

“I know, I know, I need my beauty sleep, but you know me, I’ve never been an ‘early to bed early to rise’ person,” you remarked with a small chuckle. Bruno just let his eyes roam your face, letting the silence wash over him. He was about to leave, but maybe you were a sign to stay? No, he had to leave. He had to protect Mirabel. He had to protect the Encanto. He had to protect you.

Finally, with no amount of joviality or pretence, Bruno spoke.

“You need sleep, but not for beauty.”

Your eyes widened in shock.

“Bruno-“

But he didn’t let you finish. He also had something he needed to tell you; he knew if there was anyone he could trust with the knowledge that he was leaving his family, it was you. It would always be you.

“I’m leaving.”

A beat of silence filled the air.

“What?”

You were flabbergasted. Leaving? To where? Why? Had he had a vision?

“Mama asked me for a vision, and what I saw… it wasn’t good. So I have to go. To protect Mirabel, the Encanto. You.”

You took another step up towards him in disbelief. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not when you had been so confident at the start of the evening. Not when you still had so much to say.

“Bruno whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out, between you and me we always figure everything out! Or at least take me with you! And your family- oh my god your family- I’m sure-“

“No. No one can know what I saw in that cave. I smashed the vision, I destroyed the bridge at the top of the cavern stairs. No one can find it. No one. I won’t let that happen. And no, I won’t take you with me and uproot you from your life like that. I can’t.” He took a few steps down towards you, and suddenly the two of you were chest to chest as he stood on the stair above yours.

All your breath had been stripped from your lungs, your brain eating up every cubic inch of air as fuel to process what was happening. Eventually, Bruno cupped your face and encouraged your fleeting eyes to focus on him.

“I need you to promise me something.” You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded your head.

“I need you to know- god, promise me you’ll remember- that not a day will go by that I won’t wish you were with me; that everyday, I’ll wake up and plead to skies- the miracle, anything- that you’ll be in my future. No matter what happens, I’ll pray that I’ll get to see you again. In this life or the next. Please, I need you to know that. I need you to know that I-“

But he caught himself before he could say it. Before he could say “I love you.” Even now, when he knew he’d most likely never look into your eyes again, he was too much of a coward to say it. But so were you, and so as his hands dropped to where your shoulders and neck conjoined, all you could do was nod your head, up and down and side to side in a frantic figure-eight motion. You were in too much shock to cry. You were too busy coming to terms with the fact that you were about to lose everything. With one final squeeze of your shoulders, Bruno released you and walked back up the stairs, turning to look at you once he reached the top, before turning and slowly walking away. Your eyes froze on the spot where he had just been. You knew your brain had to do some major catch-up, and as slow as it was it was no where near as lethargic as your heart. But you also knew that you’d never get another chance. You had to say something. You couldn’t let him leave without knowing. You’d never be able to live with yourself if you did. You just had to unfreeze yourself and call out to him before he left. Luckily your body took the wheel from your foggy head.

“Bruno wait!”

When your eyes finally caught up to his form, he was halfway down the hall. He turned his head first towards you, before rotating his body around and walking back towards the top of the stairs.

“Bruno, if this is the last chance I’ll get, I… I have to tell you. I’ll never be able to sleep another night in my life if I don’t.”

Bruno, ever asshole with unrelenting wit, dismally smiled and retorted, “in which case, you might have to start calling it ‘beauty sleep.’”

You shut your eyes in belief. God he was funny, but for once you couldn’t let yourself be distracted by his banter.

“Bruno I-“

You were angry. Why couldn’t you just say it? Why must the words fall short every damn time?

Bruno stepped down one of the stairs, tilting his head forward and to the side, a silent plea for you to continue. You knew he knew what you wanted to say, and lord knows you’d smite him if this was just a plot to toy with you. It wouldn’t be the first. But at that moment, something inside you snapped. All the annoyance at both yourself, him, the world, everything, vanished, and you were left with a sense of blissful emptiness.

Fuck it.

“I love you, Bruno Madrigal. I love you with everything I have. And if this is the last chance I’ll ever get to say it, at least I’ll die knowing that I told you. Because you mean everything to me, too, and you deserve to know.” As you confessed, Bruno once again descended the last few steps towards you, his gaze only once leaving yours to glance at the emerald flower around your neck that reflected the moonlight back into your eyes, a permanent branding that reminded him that you had allowed yourself, all these years, to belong to him.

“I just.. I do, I love you. I can’t say with certainty that I know many things, Bruno Madrigal, but I’m satisfied with the knowledge that no matter what, I’ll always love you, Bruno, and there’s never going to be anyone else that I’ll feel this way for. I don’t need a vision from you to know that.”

Bruno’s face held almost no emotion, only a slight raise to his brows and his lips slightly parted in silent disbelief. As much as you could stare into his eyes, you needed to hear him say something. And finally he did.

“I knew it.”

Wow, you thought as the annoyance flooded back, what an asshole. Hot, ugly tears start to escape from the confines of your eyelashes and they burned with embarrassment. Serves you right for giving him the benefit of the doubt all those years ago. But he continued.

“I knew you were weird.”

“Bruno, fuck off. I-“

“You are! After all, how could a miracle like you love a harbinger of bad luck like me?” He bemused. Once again, he brought his hands up to rest his warm and calloused palms on the base of your neck.

“But I also knew you were fearless,” he smiles as one of his hands cups the back of your jaw, wiping a stray tear away. “And I’m so, so, fucking glad you are, because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have loved me, and I don’t know what I would have done with myself all these years.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bruno leaned his forehead against yours, pulling you as close to him as he could without sending the both of you tumbling down the stairs.

“I think… I’m talking about how I’ve won this game of chess?”

And suddenly, all the puzzle pieces throughout the years clicked together, 35 years worth of annoyance and indifference and friendship and love all coming together at this moment to propel the both of you into each other. And as your lips met, for the first and last time, nothing and everything mattered, all at once and not at all. As your lips parted and his tongue met yours, you knew that you’d never be able to let anyone kiss you again. Not after this. After all, you didn’t do this sort of thing with your other friends. It would only ever be Bruno’s shoulders and hair that you held onto for dear life, as his hand on your shoulder fell downward to allow his arm to scoop you impossibly closer into him. You knew you’d never love anyone else, ever again, as his tears mixed with yours and your lips and tongues held onto each other for dear life, as to suck every last ounce of adoration and devotion out of each other before you had to say goodbye.

But unfortunately, the future doesn’t wait. Bruno’s gift never would allow him to forget that. And after a few more wet kisses peppered across each others lips, you and Bruno pulled apart, taking one last moment to memorise each other’s eyes.

“If you’re ever in the Encanto again, look me up,” you quipped, and Bruno offered you one of those blissful and contented smiles he always seemed to have when the two of you would banter. But this one, you knew you’d never forget, because while his lips offered joy, his eyes protruded devastation, and you knew you’d never be able to erase his face in that moment from your mind, and you were okay with that.

“I promise if I ever see you again, I’m taking you to the father to have us married,” he says with no lace of pretence.

“After one kiss? Not one to waste time, I see,” you chortle.

He only shakes his head before pulling away from you completely. It left you feeling empty and cold, despite the humid air and the heat of his body still lingering on yours.

“I’ve already wasted enough time loving you on my own, I refuse to waste a second more.”

And with a pair of heartbroken smiles, casita gently rolled the stairs beneath your feet, carrying you down to the courtyard. You took one last look up to your fallen prince.

“I love you, Bruno.”

“I love you too.”

As your tear ducts finally ran empty, you turned around towards the front doors of La Casa Madrigal and opened them.

“Goodbye, Bruno Madrigal.”

Had you looked back as you left, you would’ve seen the fallen prince open the portrait in the walls. But you were one stubborn idiot, and you didn’t look back.

#fanfiction #angst #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #Encanto #Disney #disney+#encanto fanfic #disney fanfiction

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musingsfromneurodivergentme · 2 years

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When I was in my 20′s and my youngest daughters pre-school class had an outbreak of chickenpox, she didn’t get it.... I did. When I went to the clinic and told them I thought I had the chickenpox, they ushered me into a private room. I can’t remember who was with me (my memory is crap, but that’s another story), I’m thinking it was probably my (now ex) husband. Whomever it was, we laughed and laughed and laughed at the absurdity of me catching it and S (my daughter) not catching it. She had been vaccinated, so not really a surprise that she didn’t get it. The laughter stopped some hours later when the fever and awfulness of it kicked in. I had no idea that chickenpox could make a person so sick. I was truly miserable. Fast-forward to my 30′s when I was diagnosed (for the first time) with ADHD. The Cliff-note verson of events is this: I wasn’t supported by my (2nd, now ex) husband. He liked to tell me that I was taking speed. Before anyone chimes in and says, “Well, Adderall IS speed!”... I’m well aware what Adderall is, just as I’m aware of what Oxycodone is. And Xanax is. And any other RX that is abused. The things he (and others) said about my taking Adderall filled me with shame. Eventually, I decided to stop taking the medication. Besides, it was “just ADHD” and I can just deal with it..... couldn’t I??!

Once again fast-forward to today, here I am (at an undisclosed age) and have once again been diagnosed with ADHD. My therapist had been encouraging me to explore getting back on Adderall for at the very least a couple of years. I was very reluctant, that is until I read about neurodiversity. Something about the word drew me in. I felt a connection to the word. It felt like it was an old friend welcoming me in and wanting to take a walk down memory lane. “Remember that time you did this? Remember how this and that made you feel? You know how when you do this or that and it feels like this inner need to do it?”

And much like when the chickenpox hit me full force, I realized that ADHD (like adult chickenpox) is no laughing matter. I started joining groups, reading articles, and hyper-focusing like only a hyper-focusing champion can do... and my life started to make sense. Why wasn’t this information available to me back then? Why didn’t I get a “Welcome to ADHD!” brochure when they handed me my first bottle of Adderall?! Why didn’t the doctor who diagnosed me that first time offer any words of advice? Hell, ONE word of advice would have been a start. Even now, I’ve been diagnosed once again, yet anything I’ve learned about it has been a result of my top-notch sleuthing.

My diagnosis was nothing like the kind you read in a magazine. There was no Dr. House piecing together the puzzle and outlining a game plan, there was no light shining down with all the answers. No, it was just me stumbling about making a mess of my life and now looking back and going, “Oh, umm... okay... so that’s why I was like that.”

Over-stimulation is real. Executive function problems are real. ADHD meltdowns are real. Working memory deficit is real. Emotional dysregulation is real. Rejection sensitive dysphoria is real. Time management issues are real. And the list (obviously) goes on and on.

It’s not all horrible though. ADHD does have its gifts, including creativity, being able to put hyperfocus to good use, being able to see things in a way that neurotypicals can’t, amazing observation skillz, ready to jump in and go-go-go/do-do-do.... and obviously this list is endless.

ANYway, since I was diagnosed for the second time less than a year ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about being diagnosed, the f*cked up health care system, and how much I love the word “neurodivergent”. And that is why I decided to start putting those thoughts down here. I can get them out of my brain and make room for the billions of other thoughts and ideas that need room to brew. Side note: the photo doesn’t really go with the post, but it’s one I took recently, and it feels “busy” to me.

#actually neurodiverse #neurodiversity #adhd #adult adhd #living with adhd #neurodiverse

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earl-grey-love · 2 years

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Excuse me this little discussion about what's on my mind. It is relevant to my blog but it's also personal. No content warnings needed. (skip to "long story short" if you want the tldr)

So ever since I started college in January, my ability to be creative went like 📉. Now I get by on basically the bare minimum which is the rare RP or rambled discussion about SIs, plots or developments (mostly in private). This has shown on my blog. I made hardly any meaningful posts about my ships, SIs or F/Os, aside from small stuff like how I wanna snuggle or lil tag rambles about how pretty they are. These are fine, wonderful in fact, but they don't really do much for me. They don't make me feel happy or satisfied.

I've kinda just been feeding off these tidbits for months and months. Heck, there was even a time where I didnt even talk in the tags (really out of character). Due to this I've essentially lost all the spark and passion I had for self shipping. Which is strange because my feelings for my f/os remain as strong as they have always been.

The lack of this spark has made me feel like I should just pack in my blog and move on. And yes, I did try that. But that only made me depressed. It clearly wasn't the answer. So I kinda sat with this "I wanna be here but idk what I'm doing here" feeling for a long time since.

Coupled with this is the feeling that I need to create ship content. I should be writing fics. I should be making moodboards. I should be posting detailed lore/themes/ideas/plots about my ships. I should be making time for my f/os even though I'm exhausted.

I've cried about it actually. It's so frustrating because I know I don't have to make those things to properly love my f/os, but the fact is I really want to make that kind of content. I want to do all those things and more. Yet I've struggled with the fact that I can't because after college and assignments, and social/family time and adult responsibilities, I have basically no energy left. Especially since I'm disabled too and that's a whole ton of energy expended trying to maintain my additional needs too. The only "spare" time I've really had for self shipping is either during self-care moments or right before I go to sleep or get up in the morning. It sucks.

(especially since my f/os help me cope)

I thought I was okay with this. Like it was some small thing that sucked but I could learn to live with. But something changed. I made that stardew profile. It was the first time in a really, really long time where I actually made something purely for myself. And God it felt good. It made me realise how important making things is for me. I need to create to be happy. It's not something I can really go without. I mean I can, but I'll be fucking miserable.

After that I had the spark again. The desire to create and share. I've been coming up with all kinds of stuff that I'd stopped thinking about. Like yesterday in the shower I made up this whole angel themed magical girl purely for fun. Then I wanted to draw her but I didn't have time. I was okay with that though because I had created her anyway and it was fun. I had stopped doing things for fun. I had fallen into the capitalist mindset of productivity. But no more.

Long story short, I really want to create again. I don't have the time or the energy I used to have, so I need to adapt to that. Make smaller but no less special things. Talk about the stuff I usually think isn't worth talking about, like my idea for that stardew character. Maybe I go nowhere with it or nobody cares for it, but at least I have fun.

On top of this I'm also trying to figure out if I actually want to continue academics into University (sociology) or dedicate my life to what I always valued most, art (creative writing degree). Creative writing was my original plan but I thought doing it for a career or studies would sap the passion out of it. Instead I learnt that not being creative saps the passion out of me.

#something something talking about myself is part of my recovery too #I know this is long and a little rambly but it means a lot to me #sunny speaks

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qiiuusoup-xo · 2 years

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✧ ━━ mommy issues, sanzu.

summary: l/n y/n drank a drug called wolf's bane and even though she despises sanzu haruchiyo, he's certainly the only one who can give her the antidote. problem is, it's side effects aren't that easy to deal with.

warning: dom!reader, hoplophilia (gun penetration/kink, katana kink), sadism, dominance, cunnilingus, hospital sex, queening, drugged sex (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, spitting, spanking, blowjob/handjob, rough manhandling, pegging, edging, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, sixty-nine, asphyxiation, bondage, graphic smut.

word count: 6.8K. dont repost/translate. masterlist. wattpad.

WITH WRINKLED EYEBROWS, KEEN GLOWER, AND ARROGANT DEMEANOR, the luminance of Sanzu's emerald eyes peered down on y/n who's just nonchalantly resting in her hospital bed - arms down, inept on doing a single movement, null joints, and unable to speak up for what happened nor even tell the executives a single thing about it. If not for Rindou's presence around the pygmy tale's corner plus his good deduction and story-making skills, y/n's skin won't surely feel the sun's warmth anymore.

After all, she only have two hours utmost before the venom takes full effect of her whole. Lucky for her and Ran that Bradbury is located in the nearest hospital possible in the whole of California, they got all of the preceding injury undercover in less than an hour.

"Ran is still undergoing surgery to remove the double ammunition who pierced through his back. He took the two shots that was supposedly for you and now he's in a critical state as well," He explained, patting his fingers atop the nearby table to at least keep the serene inside his brain, "The whole event was staged to find out who are they really going for and it turns out to be you."

"You are their one and only target. Too bad for Ran because he fucked their plans up by catching the bullet that was supposedly for you. This time, we've fully known that they're still gonna go for who's the weakest link amongst us and now they found you, y/n. There's no way in hell that Mikey will let this slide so you better get yourself ready." He added.

They. If only she could speak or move atleast an inch, y/n would've already asked just who in the world is Sanzu talking about since awhile ago but sadly, she's far from doing the latter. But later on will do - if the elixir that Sanzu made will really work on her, she will ask him on who is he referring to.

"So just who in the goddamn fuck told you that wolf's bane is a good soup and you should drink it?" Acknowledging the fact that she can't answer him, Sanzu didn't halt in his hour by hour lectures and queries regarding y/n's irrationality manner on drinking a very lethal poison since it evidently stuffed her into nothing but a drastic and miserable state - one that made the executives fed up and frightened at the same time since it was a first time that y/n was put into such condition.

Despite of that fact, it wouldn't stop Sanzu to still want to kill and make the lady crawl away from him in bed or physical violence, either way will do for a psychopath like him.

On the other hand, y/n's e/c eyes remained enervated as it stared at Sanzu's sturdy frame. Light cerise-hued hair down, it remained disheveled together with his white suit who got tainted by y/n's sanguine blood when she passed out two hours ago. His posture and gander as well never changed as he was the only one who got tasked to guard and make a prescribed vitamin for her illness, that's a direct order from Manjiro himself.

"You're lucky that I'm good with drugs even though I didn't study anything scientifically nor study anything related to biology and forensic. If Mikey didn't give me any commands, I will never help you anyways." He sneered, rolling his eyes in such irksome gander before stirring his sleeves up to the gutter of his forearm.

The paraphernalias he needs were all neatly placed beside y/n's hospital bed, all neat, sterilized, tested, and set solely for y/n to consume. He was quick in experimenting, that's a given, or more like he already performed mise en place beforehand - nobody knows.

Not like I have any choice either. Y/n thought, almost puking in her own remarks. Who wouldn't be disgusted when your sole dedicated foe is right there standing before you to give you medication for your imbecilic acts? No one, of course.

"Your whole body's paralyzed except for your eyes. If I inject the antidote I made right through your veins, your body might not gonna be able to take it's baneful side effects. Your throat's never an exception as well since the backfire of the aconitum burning a part of your pharynx is severe. Professionals need to take a few test after this."

"Thus, the only way for you to consume this elixir is if I ingested it through you using CPR or might as well say, I'll take the liquid in my mouth and put it in yours. Mind you, there's another counterpart that this drug of mine may cause you - specifically through your dopamine. Are you ready for it?" He asked, waving a small bottle of an unknown turqoise-hued liquid.

Dopamine, a mild feeling of lust. Surely, it's just nothing but a coincidental series of events since Sanzu isn't the kind of man who'll surely manhandle her once she mend herself in the abominable sex drive caused by the elixir he made. The thought of Sanzu alone easing her from the lust is ostensively making her agitated for some reason, it may be unforeseen considering the fact that he's a drug enthusiast. Nonetheless, again, she doesn't have any choice but to agree.

"Move your eyes to the right if it's 'no', and to the opposite if it's 'yes'." Sanzu confirmed, not like it's his character to do so. Consent was never in his vocabulary after all.

Thoughts subside, contemplation wheeled y/n's nerves for a second. All she has to live is two hours before the poison completely takes half of her body. Nevertheless, she's at least grateful and stupefied that Sanzu was quick in making the antidote right before she told him what kind of poison did she injected in her body.

With that, she dilated her sight towards the left - detaining 'yes' in her words, making sure that it will cause her something that's far from being malevolent.

Side of his lips moved into accord of her choice, forming a roguish grin as he attained himself with the vitamin that she should take in order to recover. Containing the obscure liquid in his mouth, Sanzu stood up from the bach before leaning towards y/n's open lips, taking it's plump like it's his everyday possession as he gently gush out the substance he took in his mouth towards the lady's soft mellows. He made sure he was careful not to waste any amount of the vitamin as well as certainly made it evident for her to sense just how lascivious his kisses are.

As the cold liquid trek down inside y/n's mouth, Sanzu entangled his tongue with hers, slinking it pass her labia to lick the soft flesh of her mouth. Their tongues collided and because of y/n's paralyzed whole, she really couldn't control her body much until the vitamin that Sanzu gave will take full effect. And since the case of hers is that complicated, she fully let the latter maneuver his lips to kiss, nip, and suck her lip. Whatever he does to her mouth, she fully went with it's flow.

"If something were to happen, will you let me take care of it?" The strawberry-head queried amidst their kisses, gently brushing his lips towards her unmoving ones, "Eyes to the right if it's yes and the opposite if it's no."

Answering with a shift of her eyeballs to the right, Sanzu nodded before checking his Rolex Paul for the time. Like it was also an in sync moment for her stomach to feel very warm - fervid utmost if she was to describe it clearly. It's warmth spread to her thighs in between, abdomen, lungs, navel, and libia or if y/n can feel it clearly, it was her whole body that felt so utterly searing right now.

"Is it hot?" He said with a smile as y/n's chest started jolting up from the intense crave of sexual passion. Her hands flew to touch herself but before she could even do so, Sanzu slapped away her touch and the contact that their skin had made her shudder in response.

Closing her eyes, her mind wander through a whole lot chimera of thoughts and when she opened it, Sanzu was still there standing while watching how she ravished from the burn. Her thighs tensed against each other as she breathed heavily, blinked simultaneously, and clenched her hold on the matress due to the blistering and throbbing lust.

The numbness she's feeling awhile ago faded - leaving only a melting sense of desire and there's Sanzu who's witnessing all of it.

"Of course it would be hot because I'm here," Sanzu cackled, "Just kidding. Anyways, you gave me your consent so I'll be easing you using your and my own pleasure as well. I will not hold back and you shouldn't do it, too. Let it all out and tell me what should I do in order to worship you, got it? So say, I'm your genie. Tell me what you desire, mio." He added, removing his shoes and socks before plopping himself to the hospital bed, specifically atop of her.

Resting his right leg amidst y/n's thighs, he moved to gently scrape his knee in her clothed cunt while he's patiently waiting for a response from her. With one stalwart arm to fix his hair towards the side, Sanzu then grasp her left hand and placed it beside her head as he leaned over and carefully planted a prolonged kiss on y/n's soft ones, "I'm waiting, mio. Gently and patiently waiting for you."

As much as y/n wants to disregard his comment, it sounded like it has tons and tens, a lot and thousands of definition - coming from Sanzu who's good at living mixed signals and imprudent tease every fucking single time. With that thought, she licked her frenulum teeth before darting him a seducing gaze.

"Undress and fuck me until I'm unable to walk out of here. That's what you want to hear anyways, right?" Boldness embeded in y/n's pitch together with her remarking those words between their kisses, placing her palm on Sanzu's cheeks, her thumb left a trance of concupiscence in his skin as she draw small circles around his scar whilst the only thing that Sanzu could react is give her thumb a small and translucent lick.

"My pleasure, mio." He whispered, licking her right cheek, placing his head on the crook of her neck, kissing it before unbuttoning her hospital dress one by one, leaving her navel barely on his view as her stomach slightly clenched on the frigid waft. The room's glacial temperature cleaved to her naked exterior as she laid denuded under him, lacking the ability to identify a single thing to do or say because of the pleasure that her body's been searing hot for.

"You're not even a drug, how did you got me so addicted?" Sanzu's voice came out rasp like he was preventing an intrusive thought or feeling to express which cued for y/n's hand to move and slink pass his nape - urging him to snog in her neck deeper as the numb feeling of her body faded along.

He groaned lowly upon feeling how her fingertips massaged the softness of his hair. His scrabous palm landed to knead her copious breast behind the bralette, squeezing its softness while he's busy nudging butterfly kisses on the side of her neck using the roughness of the diamond scar beside his lips.

"I was never a drug, Sanzu. What got you addicted towards me is your own desire to take a taste of a poison that you're not wary about, thinking that it'll bring you to another cloudnine. It's my time to ask now, do you still remember the first time we met?" Breathless and containing herself in the edge, y/n managed to ask - containing the phantasm of their undainted encounter whilst shutting her eyes tightly was all she could ever respond to the luscious feeling of Sanzu's tongue trailing on her bare neck, "You said my scent reeks of red spiderlily, a flower of death to be exact. But what exactly does it smell like, Sanzu?"

"Spiderlilies have a pretty sweet fragrance; however, it still do represent death at the very least. And you are just like that, not just similar but almost a mimic of that flower. You looked so pure yet that little ooze of killing intent you have is reeking. It never escaped my eyes and smell," He uttered in a whisper way, tracing circles using his point fingertip on her clothed nipple, tempting her let out all the eccentric sultriness that she's concealing. "That's why, I'll gladly take the poison if it's you."

Y/n's breathing hitched upon hearkening his retort but she quickly discarded it as soon as she felt his other hand trailing in the gutter of her inner thigh whilst he's busy pleasing her by a slow glide of his wondrous tongue from the pulse of her neck towards her collarbone. As his calloused palms took it's trek towards her clothed mound, her grip on his hair tensed, causing for Sanzu to smirk in between his kisses.

"Sanzu..." Y/n mewled, curling her toes upon feeling how he slowly rubbed his finger on her clothed slit, obviously to mock how she contained her bearings not to let out a single noise.

"It's Haru. Call me Haru. Nobody besides you can get me to call that so consider yourself lucky, mio." He remarked before standing up to loosen his tie and discard his belt, putting all of it above the lady's head. Y/n's gazes went from his face towards the pistol tent found amidst his thighs, he's fucking big. It was visible enough just by seeing the bulge and all the man could do is just grin upon seeing how she stared intently at it while blinking as if she's quite astounded by it's size and mass.

Cute. He chuckled. He quite has an enormous amount of confidence when it comes to his dick and skill to pleasure women, obviously.

Ignoring the freaky thought, he then hovered himself amidst her almost stark-naked breast before licking his scar, setting himself to ravish and worship the ethereal celestial before him.

Lifting the fabric and revealing her neat chest, Sanzu wasted no time to devour her nipple and let his mouth's scalding temp coaxed around her pebbled flesh while he's promptly sucking and twirling his tongue around it.

His free hand squeezed the other, tweaking her hardened nub repeatedly. Looking up to see her reaction, he smirked upon seeing how she parted her lips from the intense pleasure and how her hands pulled his hair more tightly than before.

"Hmm...tasty." He moaned through her nipple, sending shudders towards her whole as she taut her thighs together but failed soon enough when the hand that Sanzu used to squeezed her other boob gently hound inside her panties.

Sliding his middle finger amidst her slit, she exhaled raggedly upon feeling how delighted he is on sucking her nipple whilst busying his middle finger on playing with her clit - up and down motion, adding more pressure to keep her wet and ready for him. His veins became prominent and broad as it started picking up a pace on rasping her wet clit, not even stopping even if her hands were already out slapping his touch away.

"Ha...slow down." Hands flew to pull Sanzu, the latter didn't listen and went even much faster than the usual momentum he has. Inserting one finger in, his lips left a hitching sound as he stopped sucking her nub to see himself how she couldn't even utter a single salient word because of the brisk pace he's doing on rubbing and fingerfucking her.

"God...ngh! Fuck!" Throwing her head back, her walls clamped around Sanzu's fingers as he started inserting his ring and middle finger in, sensing gratisfaction upon feeling how it glided with no trouble because of how slick her hole is. Pulling his fingers out and probing it back in, her breathing jagged from the contact of his fingertip in a delicate spot inside her, again and again and again - non-stop and quicker until she's found lamenting beneath him.

"God? Right, I'll bring you to heaven and beyond," He whispered, leaving a peck on her lips before withdrawing his fingers to grab the tie above her head, "I wanna do something really bad and vicious so please do wear this as a blindfold and pick a number from one to six."

"How bad is it?"

"Really really really bad since..." He paused, clinging into his wants to obviate her from seeing anything by putting his clean tie above her eyes and tying it behind her head, "We're gonna play russian roullete with a probability of 1:6."

"What?"

"Russian roullete. A game in which a revolver's rotating cylinder which mostly contains six bullets will solely be filled with one bullet shell. By then, the free player will rotate the gun's cartridge and pull the trigger against the head of the other player. You spin every time before a player takes a shot. And the chance you have to live is one over six, depending on how many bullet does the revolver's gun have." He explained.

The evident cecity of her eyes caused by the tie he put on her were followed by a strident sound of a gun's barrier pulling away from it's safety and by the moment that y/n heard a gun's cartridge rotating one by one - a speculation arose inside her.

"Fuck." Fully realizing what he wants, y/n's eyes widened behind the cloth and when she tried to squirm away from his touch, a metal clunk loudly on the room's four vertexes. Both of her wrist felt a frigid iron, indicating that she was all cuffed up on the hospital bed's metallic rim. He was brisk and quiet enough not to let her feel or hear anything, a baneful act that she didn't expect from him. It's a dead-end.

With her mind reminiscing around Sanzu's unduly noxious figure, y/n's heart beamed rapidly inside her as she was clamored with thoughts that the play that the hombre suggested might give her an abhorrent and illogical corollary or much worse is death. How could she forgotten a fact that Sanzu Haruchiyo is certainly not a gentle nor amiable person?

"There's no letting you go, mio. Now pick a number from one to six because I'm going to rotate the cartridge according to the number you chose, put this gun inside you then pull the trigger. You might be lucky if it's empty but if it's not then...boom." Eyes glistening in compassion, Sanzu pointed the gun's end on his temple before acting like he shot himself in the open. The malicious expression he has never even alternated.

And all could y/n do is sighed rashly, still squirming from the grip of the whatever he used to tie her wrist. He really plans on inserting the gun on her and pull the trigger? He's not sane anymore. He really fucking lose his wits. He's a fucking lunatic. A damn fucking crazy man who only likes the thrills of seeing other people screaming in either pain or too much pleasure.

Never understimate Sanzu Hauruchiyo, y/n could've wrote that in her priniciple beforehand but now that she's all manacled and powerless against the latter - she can do less or never than what she oaths to do. She was too impotent against him now and she's quite aware that it was imbecilic enough for her to fully let herself comply on the drug's corollary, specifically on the one the Sanzu gave.

Even if she's unnerving, she could feel how the virulent executive trail the gun's cold end from her chest down to her still clothed pussy, poking and tracing her slit's dampness who doused through the thin fabric of her panties. The gun's safety was unlocked and y/n fully acknowledges the fact that it's menacing enough if Sanzu accidentally pulls the trigger; however, the thrills inching through her innards is severe than the fright that not even her could cease it from turning into pleasure. She wanted what he's doing as well.

"A gun pointed towards this pussy of yours. What a sight to behold indeed. And with this slickness, will you gonna be able to handle a gun inside you?" Sanzu suddenly asked before lifting the blindfold that he had put on the lady - letting her see how he pursued and pressed the gun's frigid end on the cloth of her garment. His dull expression stared right through her soul as y/n only reputed with a breathless gasp and flabbergasted expression. Can she even move? Sans.

"No..." With knuckles tightening it's hold on the bed's cold rim, y/n managed to answer - a trance of regret sufficed inside her veins the moment she ascertained that she can't loiter the same look and actions that Sanzu gives towards her. There she realized more that he is not just a plain dominant man, he's more than that. He's tainted by the devil himself, if she may say.

Unlucky for Sanzu since he's facing one as well.

"If I get out of here, consider one of your leg buried six feet deep from the surface, Sanzu." She remarked, earning a smirk from the hombre.

"Are you sure? Certainly answering me with a no, mio? But you know me as someone who doesn't likes nor accepts rejection, right?" Doubling the size of his smirk, his dominant hand flew to intercept her from breathing as his palm gripped the pressure points of her neck hardly - knocking down her senses, plunging her peer into the dusk, and fully making her conciousness fade into the unknown just by tauting his hold. His words rang repeatedly into her notice as she parted her lips to shout at him but failed - his hold was just too tough to budge to begin with.

Before she loses all bearings from his choke, her eyes just freely wandered around his visage. His bright forest green-hued orbs reflected the pygmy luster of the sun as the cerise cloud of his hair weaved slightly with the thin waft around the room, his lively complexion and robust jaw complemented every angle of his face, eyes diverting her a rather insulting and cocky stare, the usual Sanzu.

Removing his hands on her neck, he got himself a countless gasp and cough from y/n as he caught the rim of her panties and pulled it away, ripping it in half and showcasing her bare and swollen cunt before slapping it, causing for her stomach to clench but this time in delectation.

"I have always wanted to disrespect you in the most respectful way I can. Provoking me will do you no good." Sanzu said, putting the gun away before pulling something from the bed's rear. He then simpered to show y/n how he uncovered his katana from it's sheath, landing it's tip on her hardened nubs before tweaking it softly. He traced the katana's keen tip on her chest down to her navel and hips until it reached her swollen clit. Cerise lips curving, an unpleasant idea sprouted in his mind.

With a low whistle, he dropped and softly rubbed her clit side to side using the sharp edge - trying so hard not to bruise her pussy using his blade's piercing end. Y/n's lips quivered in response while feeling how Sanzu's sword flit on her bare cunt. First, a gun and now, a katana? Just what scale of craziness can the pink-haired executive reach?

"You're not gonna insert it in, right?" The lady spoke.

"Silly, of course not. But how about the handle of my katana? Surely the length of this thing will poke your intestines." Ignoring her plead, the number two executive stopped on his acts before completely lifting the fabric that's concealing her sight - letting her see what's happening as she blinked to repute and adjust from the radiance. Her glance on Sanzu's visual shifted to the thing between his hands, adding it with a slow nod - eager to end what kind of session are they having even if it equaled to ruining her own body.

I'm already messed and wrecked enough. There's no complaining. Those are the words inside her head as she agreed on Sanzu's wants. Or was it her alter self?

"Good girl. Do it yourself." Sanzu retorted, unlocking her from the shackles with an impish grin plastered in his cerise lips. He then handed the katana towards the hombre who refused to accept it. Instead, she smirked. Spreading her legs, two of her fingers landed on her wet and overstimulated cunt, rubbing it in a circular manner while staring lusciously at the man in front of her - seducing him or that's how they call it.

This isn't me. Y/n thought. Was it the side effect?

"More like why don't you do it yourself, Sanzu?" The woman challenged him, leaving him in awe and thrills as he let out a humiliated laugh.

"Hold on to the headboard then. Once you let go, you're dead." He retorted, putting his blade back on it's scabbard before lubricating its slim handle with a jelly-like sticky and distinct liquid - maybe to help it glide smoothly inside her.

Upon seeing him plopping a seat amidst her legs, she followed his remarks. Laying her back flat on the headboard, her hands caught it's wide rim as she spread her legs wide and open in front of the man and that's a cue for Sanzu.

Setting the katana handle's head on the entrance of her hole, Sanzu grinned before raggedly pushing half of the katana's handle length inside her - making her squeal when the tip and body propped in the utmost part of her cervix, stretching and filling her emptiness out. The obscure liquid he spread on the handle also felt algid inside her, temptingly mixing it with the warm palms of the man who's gripping her inner thigh, preventing it to close.

"Play with yourself, one hand only." Sanzu smiled when he noticed her pained expression - it added nothing but making him more excited, a lunatic indeed.

Abiding his commands with a ragged breathing, her other hand flew to fasten her usual pace on rubbing her slick slit as the hand of Sanzu's katana that he's inserting in her cavern glided smoothly in her needy spot. With a relentless whimper from the pleasure, the stimulation of her fingers rubbing her clit and the handle's small gears penetrating her cervix made her eyes roll back, pleasure conquered her furthermore whilst fully knowing that she already had several orgasms at once. Neither did she obviate him from striding as for her; his or her hands, Sanzu's unprinciple behaviour, or the handle that he's slamming inside her wasn't the least bit enough for the blaring burn to dissipate.

"Sanzu...please." She whimpered, her free hand cramped on the thick sheets, feeling how he probed the sword's handle with more brisk. Her orgasm came nearer but it didn't even changed the sinister expression of Sanzu who's just watching how she lament in pleasure and affliction before him.

"My katana's handle is more useful than me, ain't it? Why don't we move it a little bit faster?" Sanzu suggested while bluntly staring at how the woman extended her legs wider in front of him, giving him more access whilst he striding the sword non-stop inside her. The keen part of the handle had already grazed her skin but she paid no bearings towards the pain as it added more pleasure in her veins, it's tip glided on a spot inside her that made her lose all wits.

She was so lost. Can she even come back?

Brutally latching his rough palm onto her thighs, Sanzu brought it to her bouncing breast - flexing her as his other hand moved to thrust the katana's handle inside her in a dizzying pace. Her wetness aided the length to probe it more smoothly, adding it with the glee of how quick she snagged her cunt. The delectation spread through her whole, causing for her legs to shake, moans pour out of her carmine lips, knot building up inside her stomach.

"Faster!" Y/n squirmed, parting her lips, hooking her legs on Sanzu's shoulders as the latter thrusted the handle raggedly inside her - abiding her wishes. Crooking over, he licked the woman's legs who's resting atop his shoulder, the roughness of his scar grazed on y/n's skin, tormenting her more in response. But the usual Sanzu just paid no fret on how her body complained and jolted up from the intensity of the throe.

"Rub yourself faster. Let me see just how much of a slut you are." He commanded, twisting and thrusting the thing inside her for a couple of times - in sync with how fast her fingers rasp her clit until she screamed his name loudly upon reaching her high. The pleasure is utterly unbearable, maybe either due to the drug or how Sanzu expertized at this kind of intimacy - y/n doesn't really know which one.

"Sanzu..." Panting, y/n's half-lidded eyes closed for a second as she took the time to rest. With her call, the lad's face remained devoid of any emotion as he withdraw the handle. Throwing it above her head, he looked up to the door to check for any perturbance - a wrong move for him indeed.

Upon seeing him dilating his attention- y/n stood up through sheer strength, grabbing ahold of the keys beside his pants' belt before bringing it to unlock both of his arms using the same manacles he used on her. She spared no second to kick the hombre off the hospital bed and used the affliction he's feeling to grip his weakened arm. As she took a seat on his stomach, she locked him over the rook and completely reciprocate the same affliction she's been through awhile ago by obviating him from doing a sole movement - cuffing him up.

"Now, let's see." She panted - puffing her vexation out by smirking at Sanzu's frame who's all tied up on the floor with her weight above his stomach, "We have a gun here and a katana but we don't have a lube. Thankfully, we have this...what the hell is this?" She asked, lifting the bottle with no apparent label.

"Special lubricating jelly." He sighed, sighing whilst completely thrilled by what y/n is planning to do. Even when he was tougher and robust than her, he clearly just went with what y/n wants to do by not fighting back the latter. But nobody can even identify if that's the right decision.

"What's this for?"

"Baby ultrasound."

"And why is it here?"

"I don't know."

"Were you planning to use it on me?"

"Hm...sort of? I already did on the katana." He cackled, loud enough to sting her ears.

"It'll be the other way around now though." She smirked, filling the gun's barrel with the lubricating jelly before standing up to hold both of Sanzu's legs firmly - separating them. Unbuttoning his pants, she discarded it off of him together with his undergarment whilst completely denuding his hard erection. Its tip yelled angry pink, prominent veins marked beside his erection as it stood up hard and girthy enough for her to devour or the other way around.

"Hmm.." Humming in a lown tone, y/n inspected his cock while grinning the same way that Sanzu does awhile ago, "How does pegging sound, Haru?"

"You're kidding, right?" A strain of uncertainty bottled up in Sanzu's face, completely rendering him from speaking any further as the antsiness inside him rose up to the maximum.

Ah, how she would love to see the tables turning.

"It's a miracle that you're not squirming though." She commented. And right, why isn't he budging? All she shackled after all is his hands. His legs were free and yet, he does nothing more than flowing with her sexual and out-of-this-universe schemes.

"I know you want a payback so do whatever you want. I'm not gonna halt you away, mio. As what I've said awhile ago, I'm not gonna hold back and you should do the same. I'm loyal when it comes to my words." Lies. She can see through his nervous expression but then again, he quickly discarded it with a pout - not letting her see a single point of his said loyalty. And the lady just redeemed it as a cute reaction from someone who's all assertive from a minute ago.

Sanzu Haruchiyo is pouting. What a duck.

"Don't you have any condoms?" Y/n queried.

"I do have plenty inside my pockets. Why?"

"Good boy," She complimented, patting the crown of Sanzu's hardness using her point finger before bringing it inside her mouth to savor it, "Hm, bitter. You should eat veggies a lot and refrain yourself from drinking too many drugs."

"Said by the one who consumed wolf's bane while thinking that it's sweet." He said, rolling his eyes in such irksome manner.

And is that a sarcasm? Y/n doubts that.

Completely sober and out of the drug's tipsy feeling, she sneered in response to Sanzu's claims. Grabbing his pants from the floor, the condom brand he usually used immediately shown through the pocket and upon seeing it, y/n teared two and placed one for his cock and one for the gun that she's holding. Whatever she's planning, Sanzu knows himself that it'll do him no compassion since he's sure that y/n will payback and return whatever he did on her.

"Since the katana's done. I'll use the gun instead and let's play russian roullete. You wanted that, right?" She said - proving his thoughts right. Standing up from his stomach, she plod closer to Sanzu before placing herself amidst his lower extremity, between his legs. Firmly gripping the back part of his left knee, she brought it up to her shoulder before lubricating the revolver he used to threaten her just a few minutes ago - filling it with the same special jelly that he utilized.

Using one of her foot, she stretched his right leg further from the minimum - fully opening his ass hole and balls on her view. Slitting another plastic of condom, she inserted it in her middle and ring finger before filling it in with another set of the same sticky jelly.

"Is this your first?" Containing her arouse sense, y/n pat his inner thigh before staring right at his eyes.

"Did you really think that I'm submissive?" He laughed off.

"Yes," Y/n answered with a smile, "Only for me though." Adding it with a click of her tongue, she positioned and slowly shoved two of her fingers inside his ass, making his airway hitch, teeth gritting in dismay upon feeling how her fingers stretched his tightness out. With a load of curse passing through his lips, y/n's other hand palmed on his cock - adding more stimulation to the burn that he's starting to sense inside his ass.

"Shh. Don't tense up. Relax. I'm finding for it." She laughed, scissoring her fingers inside him, stroking his walls in unison of how her other hand jerked his hardness off. With a quick thrust of her fingers to a seemingly soft wall, Sanzu's cock twitched in her hands, hips buckling up from the floor with him whimpering in shudder as her fingertip unconciously poked a sweet spot.

That reaction of his earned a smirk from the woman, "Found it," she whispered, pulling her fingers out before probing it back in - hitting the same softness once, then again and again, quicker than the past pace until he was found drooling to the blistering lust. His body couldn't react less from the contact of her fingers inside his ass. Baring his breathing, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, back arching in delectation. And as y/n saw how messed up his reaction is, she draw herself closer towards him before sticking her tongue out to lick off the saliva that's dripping out of his mouth. Spitting it back towards his parted lips afterwards.

"Feels good?" E/c eyes looking straight at the hearts inside Sanzu's green ones, y/n queried even if she is fully aware that the hombre couldn't even spit out a single senile word.

"Ahh..more, mommy. Please. More." Drunken and far from abstinent, Sanzu started jerking his hips up, urging her to continue.

"Fuck me all you want, mommy." Sticking his tongue out, it's visible enough that he's lost. So lost that he couldn't even contain his own sanity anymore.

"Mommy?" Y/n scoffed, withdrawing her fingers before ramming it back with full strength, "Master. It's Master, Haru."

"M-Master? Master...fuck me. Please? Please..." Countless eagerly nods, whimpering in response with his hands shaking from the manacle and tremor he's in, Sanzu's eyes found stars and dusk as it rolled back. He wanted to touch himself so bad but as his hands touched his throbbing hardness, y/n would only wack his hands away - evidently edging him from reaching whatever peak he wants to grasp.

"I can't hear you saying it. Louder, Haru."

"Master, please ruin me. Master..."

"Hm? Louder, darling. Ruin who?"

"Me...please. I'm begging you, y/n...y/n-sama. Please, master."

Eyes gleaming in compassion, y/n let out a ragged breathing upon seeing how the dominant from awhile ago whimpered and cried from wanting to get railed so bad, getting ruined or messed up by her and her only. The number two executive of Bonten named Sanzu Haruchiyo, a most-respected person from a highly-esteemed organization, is found begging and pleading below her to get fucked by her fingers over and over again. And thus, she never expected such reaction from him, not from the pernicious Sanzu Haruchiyo.

"I heard you load and clear. Now, pick a number." She uttered, following it with a ghost of chuckle. Holding the gun in her other hand, she withdraw her fingers and briskly replaced it with the firearm - sluggishly pushing the barrel inside Sanzu's hole and as she propelled it fully inside him, the taffy-haired let out a loud mewl, not minding whoever in the goddamn fuck can hear his cry. He swore he saw heaven and angel's halo lying beneath him - the different is he's unable to determine whether it was real or it was just his mind's idiotic hallucination from the abominable lust.

"F-four."

"A number of death, huh?" With it's safety lock off, y/n's lips curved together with her instinct pulling over. Revolving the gun's cartridge four times, her point finger slinked pass the trigger to pry it backward. The revolver's clamorous sound reverberated to the still ambience - shooting no bullets to the latter's ass and fully redeeming his luck to be effective.

Sanzu won the Russian Roulette. A lucky fellow indeed.

Holding the revolver in the same posture, y/n moved to ride Sanzu's hips. Directing herself above him, she held his cock before emplacing it to her leaking hole. In a leisure pace, she lowered her hips and let half of his erection slithered in her depths whilst the double stimulation of the gun and y/n striding her hips above him had the strawberry-head moaning like a wild and untamed cat. And as the lady started bouncing her ass, the glee inside him towered more than he expected but as someone who covets for the hysteria, Sanzu edged himself from reaching his acme - gaining a prolonged mewl from y/n as his cock pulsated inside her whilst she's pacing on his hard cock rapidly.

"Fuck...so go -."

"Nobody allowed you to talk." Prodding three of her fingers inside Sanzu's mouth, he gagged from the sudden nictitate of her fingertip plunging through his reflex. Sloping towards him, y/n's breast jiggled on the momentum of her mounting Sanzu's cock like it's her everyday incarnation.

"Good boy," she chuckled, "Now show me that pretty face of yours." Gripping the side of his cheeks, y/n made him face her excited expression as she slow herself up on riding him, "Say ahh, darling."

"Open wide since that face of yours surely deserve getting suffocated between my thighs." Withdrawing her fingers, y/n commanded in a stoic pitch whilst picking up her ripped panties from the bed before shoving it inside Sanzu's parted lips as soon as he complied to her orders. Standing up, the feeling of leaving his cock tingled her legs as she walked above his unmoving body before kneeling right on his face, letting him smell the reeking ambrosial of her pussy as her cunt met his nose. Facing the bottom extremity of Sanzu. y/n took his face as her new chair, suffocating and blocking his airway by hardly bestriding her wet pussy right on top of his lips.

Grinding her hips forth and back softly, the laddie scorned a moan on y/n's pussylips as the lady asphyxiated his head between her inner thighs.

Leaning to his chest, she rest her hips comfortably on Sanzu's face before setting her head right on his hardness. She then spared no second to hold it's girthy and big frame whilst staring right through the cum's glist who's gleaming through her eyes. Sticking out her tongue, the warmth of her taste buds laid freely on the tip of his dick as she held them in her hands whilst licking it off from the crown.

"Hmmp! Ngh!" He whined through the weight of her hips and the rapture of her blowjob. Flaunting his tongue out, he inhaled her intoxicated scent - sensing it better than the vitamins he ravaged himself in. Letting out a lown chuckle, he then set himself to ravish her cunt the similar way of how her warm thumb circled around the crown of his erection adding it with how her tongue glided up and down in him. Licking the body from the base up to the end, y/n moaned and laughed through his tip upon feeling how Sanzu tried squirming from the cuffs while he's sucking her pussy real good. What more is the gun's still inside his ass hole, one that made him more feral for the double pleasure that he's feeling.

She's such an expert, bound to be his fucking slut if he's the one in charge right now. Sadly, he's not since at that very moment happens a rollercoaster of playing darts with y/n as the gamemaster.

Grazing his cum on her half-opened plump, she slowly moved to enter his cock inside her argent mouth. Her tongue slid smoothly on the base, trying to take him whole but failed soon enough when the gutter of his cock pulsed in the back of her mouth - reflexing her throat but she nonetheless hollowed her cheeks and sucked him good while she's still rasping her ass on his face. With a set of pre-cum dripping through her chin, it helped his cock on slipping more smoothly inside her mouth. Bobbing right into him, he closed his eyes when he felt how her mellows glissade in his hardness smoothly, in and out, up and down.

Y/n swore she could feel how he smiled while he's eating her out. Pushing his hips forward and back for once in a brutal manner that it made her pull over for a second. Y/n's keen e/c gazes went to Sanzu's mocking ones as her hands flew to obviate his hips from snapping back into her mouth. Scraping her teeth on the skin of his dick, Sanzu threw his head back not in pain but in pleasure and satisfaction. Pain curled him up even more.

"Fucking masochist." She commented, pulling out before getting up for a second to see how his face turned bright cherry by how her hips probed it's way above him. Stretching out her limbs' numbness, the strain that's holding her back faded. Well, the position that they're in awhile ago is quite hard, y/n herself thinks the common. She should surely never underestimate sixty-nine.

"I haven't come yet!" Sanzu complained.

"Oh, you haven't? Goodluck pleasing yourself then. I'm do-."

Suddenly, the door swung open - cutting y/n off from her further statements as the white entrance revealed Rindou's staid frame and crimson-hued, all puffy face. His chest jolted up and down to inhale and exhale, breathing heavily as if he was indulged in some type of pain and discomfort. What more is he's hard. So hard that it might even wreck his pants open and much to y/n's surprise, it really did. As the button of his pants flew away from the thread, the purple-head's peers immediately darted at the h/c lady who's all bared in front of him with Sanzu in the same posture below her - all denuded as well.

visit my wattpad account for more! dont copy/translate my works pls.

#tokyo revenger smut #tokyo rev #tokyorev smut #ao3 #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu smut #tokrev sanzu #sanzu x reader #michael afton #dom reader #bonten smut #bonten #bonten x y/n #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x you #bonten sanzu #bonten scenarios

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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littlesniggy · 3 years

Note

Hellow! And once more here I am haha!

So I would like to request some (fluffy) Headcanons with a female reader and her being pregnant (unplanned). S/o telling her boyfriend/husband and their reactions please.

The characters are: Law, Kidd, Marco, Koby and... Rob Lucci! Guess these are nice characters for the idea.

Thanks a lot and take care of yourself! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Thank you for requesting!

Except for maybe Marco and Coby I don't really see any of them being too thrilled on becoming a father 😂. Pirates value freedom and a baby, as harsh as it sounds, is in the way of said freedom....😶 Hope you enjoy it anyways!

Law

Law is confused as to how this could happen (even though he is a doctor). He is always very thorough when it comes to protection and he knows that there is always a possibility for the condom to rip or the pill not working or both but he kind of refuses to accept it. He has neither the nerves nor the means to support his partner and a baby.

He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would want to become a parent – at least not at the moment. He wants to follow his dreams first before he plans a family and a family is quite frankly not his top priority.

He won’t be mad at them but he won’t be thrilled either. He won’t straight out tell them to get an abortion but he will make it clear that the kid will be mainly their responsibility if they choose to keep it. He sounds like an asshole but his life comes before the life of an unborn baby.

If his partner insists on keeping the baby he will tell them that he will try and support them but he 1. Won’t be there for the most time and 2. He will not, under any circumstances, have a baby on board his submarine. So, unless his partner is willing to wait for him and live like 90 % without him this relationship, as much as he loves his partner, will be more or less over.

He will, however, be there for the delivery, doing it himself and he might fall in love with his kid when he holds them, looking into their bright little eyes and tiny, tiny feet. But the chances are still slim, don’t bet on it!

Kid

The moment his partner tells him that they’re pregnant he makes sure to get the f*ck out of there and never come back. He has no interest in becoming a parent, not even in the future. He will tell his partner that they better get rid of the little pest cause otherwise he’ll be gone. He is even harsher than Law, telling them straight out that they’re gonna be completely on their own with the child.

He doesn’t want to leave his partner alone, feeling some sense of loyalty towards them but he is more determined to become the pirate king and he won’t let a child get in the ways of his goal.

Being a pirate is dangerous and (even though he will never admit it) he doesn’t know if he will live to see his partner and potential child again. He’s already lost one arm, who says he will come out of the next fight this lightly?

He loves his partner but like Law he does not want to have a baby on board his ship! He probably won’t even be there for the delivery If his partner chooses to keep the baby, already chasing his dream of becoming the king of pirates again.

If his partner chooses to terminate the baby their relationship won’t be the same again; especially if he kind of pressured his partner to get rid of it. He will become more distant, not wanting to sleep with them that often due to the fear of another accident (cause the first time his partner got pregnant most definitely was an accident).

If they got an abortion on their own free will he will be more open with them but still a little hesitant when it comes to sex, being careful that it won’t happen again (first time actively thinking about protection cause, let’s be honest, his partner will be the responsible one in the relationship).

Marco

Depending at which point he is at his life when his partner tells him that they’re pregnant he will be either happy or concerned. If Whitebeard is still alive he will be concerned since he really does want to be with his partner and his kid but he will not leave the crew. After all, the Whitebeard pirates are his family and he does not want to leave his family behind.

But at the same time his partner and future kid are his family as well and he does not want to leave them behind either. His partner will have to tell him (if they want to keep it) that it’s okay if Marco chooses to continue his journey with Whitebeard and that they will wait for him until he comes back, no matter how long it takes. Marco will feel guilty after all but I can see him feeling a little bit more miserable if he stays with you.

If, however, we are talking about post Whitebeard he is more than happy. Him and his partner will probably already be married by then and he will be so excited and take personally care of his s/o and their needs, making sure that they have everything they need and keep a close eye on the pregnancy.

He is so ready to become a father and he will be such a great one as well. Like Law, he will help deliver the baby and he instantly falls in love with his child. He will be a proud and an amazing dad.

Coby

Coby will panic. He thinks he is too young to become a father since he’s just a little baby himself lol. But after his partner has calmed him down (they’re probably the more level headed person in the relationship) he will feel happy. Not overly happy but the feeling builds up over time.

The more time passes the more he gets used to the thought of becoming a father. It also helps that he is a marine and that he and his family will be taken care of safety- and financial-wise. Since Coby is such a nice bean I can imagine him being fairly liked by his fellow marines. That’s why he and his partner will be overloaded with presents and most likely won’t have to buy anything themselves.

He doesn’t even think that they might want to get an abortion and if they do and tell him he will be devastated. He was so thrilled on becoming a father (after a while) so he doesn’t want his partner to get an abortion (might be a little selfish). He just can’t understand why they wouldn’t want to become a parent as well.

If they get an abortion (after he has already been getting excited about the pregnancy) their relationship will change and he might want to break up with them. There will just be something between them from then on and he simply can’t live with it in the long run.

Rob Lucci

“I don’t see why this concerns me, Y/n.” honestly, what did they expect? He does not want to become a father. At all. He has no use for a child, especially a baby. They’re dirty, babble nonsense and only cost money. It’s a miracle he’s even in a relationship at all so if they want it to stay this way they better get an abortion.

Rob Lucci will not cut back on anything just because his partner is pregnant. He will insist on sex, especially rough sex with lots of spanking and scratching and biting and all of that. If his partner is not in the mood once, it’s okay. If it happens more often due to the pregnancy he will bash on them and then leave.

Don’t expect him to take care of them during their pregnancy either. He gave them the option to get an abortion so don’t come crying to him when this pregnancy gets uncomfortable. But this is all assuming he stays with his partner. The more likely outcome will be him leaving them behind and looking for someone else.

He is just not cut out to be a father. He knows it, they know it. And I don’t even think they would want him to be the father of their child. Let’s just put it like this: he won’t be the most caring father, if you know what I mean….

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forsworned · 3 years

Text

[♥] academyau! sweet like candy {teacher!giyuu tomioka x teacher!reader}

Genre: Fluff, Slight Sensual Themes

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Giyuu Tomioka/Reader

Word count: 1,599

a/n: really wanted to make this into a little series because i’m kind of obsessed with kimetsu academy i think it’s so cute and funny but anyway enjoy!,,, requests are open

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Sometimes being a teacher was hard. You had to make your own lesson plans, grade all the work you assign and make sure your students are well engaged enough to get it and want to ge there. Which they both knew, they really didn’t want to be there. So like any teacher, [Name] would always try to make her lesson plans fun and not give monumental loads of homework assigments and papers. Especially since the biggest class she taught was straight out of Mr. Tomioka’s P.E. class and he absolutely worked them to the bone.

[Name] sighed as she retired for the day after her last student left for extra help, and headed off to her favorite cafe to continue grading her papers. Not like she made them write a ten page essay or anything, but boy were these terrible. The headache already setting in as dragged herself out of her car and into her favorite coffee/tea shop.

The bell at the top of the door rang, signaling her presence as she made her way in. It was in that moment that she stepped through that her eyes grew double in size at the scene painted in front of her.

Mr.Tomioka sitting alone at one of the booths with possibly the biggest cup of green matcha ice cream, a dollop of whipped cream with the most cutesy sprinkle decorations. He was shamelessly stuffing his face as if it were his last meal. Melted green matcha melted from one corner of his mouth with sprinkles plastered on the other side. [Name] covered her mouth in complete and utter astonishment. She didn’t know whether to laugh, scream or cry.

Giyuu had felt as if someone was spying on him and low and behold, Miss.[Last Name] was peering down at him with the most bewildered expression on her face.

“Hello, Miss.[Last Name]. Odd seeing you here.” He spoke nonchalantly as he took another bite of his icecream. Giyuu was completely unbothered by her presence, mostly because it was a teacher and not a student who had interrupted his gluttonous guilty pleasure.

“I-I didn’t know you were such a sweeth tooth, Mr.Tomioka.” She stammered. [Name] really didn’t know how else to react to Giyuu just sitting deadpanned as he gazed up at her. It wasn’t too out of character for him since she had saw him munching on raisin bread on the staircase quite often. She made it a point to avoid him as to not embarrass him. His cerculean eyes bored into hers and it made her an ounce more self conscious. Did she have something on her face? Her teeth? Or worse a stain on her blouse?

“Yes, well, I do find myself coming here from time to time to relax after a long day at work.” His gaze shifted back to his mountain sized pile of icecream and took another large bite. She could’ve sworn he blushed as he did.

“You mind if I join you?” She asked almost timidly. Giyuu was intimidating to say the least. Well to [name] he was. His casual attitude always seemed to throw her off. He hummed in acknowledgement and she smiled as she slid in the booth across from him.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a lady friend, Giyuu-kun~” A server who seemed to show up out of nowhere sang as she set the spoon down with a napkin. Giyuu froze at his name being said so informally in front of [name] and she was just as shocked to hear it.

He didn’t say anything as the server skipped away. It was so quiet that if a pin dropped you could hear it.

[Name] couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from her lips as she watched as Giyuu sulked in shame. “G-giyuu-kun?”

“Fine, maybe I come here everyday.” He muttered as he took another bite. Now he was miserable, but [name] shook off his embarrassment. She didn’t want to make him feel bad in his comfort zone.

“No, no. I was only teasing. It’s kind of nice that you come here and give this mom and pop your business.” She picked up her spoon and scooped a small part of the untouched side of his ice cream and hummed in delight when it reached her taste buds. Her tongue grazed across her lips and at the spoon again to lick it clean.

“Damn, that’s really good!” She cheered. Giyuu did not take his eyes off her lips for a single moment. He gulped his icecream too quickly causing him to have brain freeze. He groaned in pain as he held his head. [Name’s] expression quickly faltered into a state of panic as she watched his face contort in agony.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” The pain subsiding as he waved her off.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just brainfreeze. Anyways, what are you doing here?”

[Name] sighed as she pulled out the stack of papers from her bag and placed them on the table.

“Ah, essay season, I see. I saw Mr. Renguko with his stack earlier. He was buzzing right through them. Said they were all awful but he appreciated their ‘blazing’ efforts.”

[Name] laughed melodiously and it made Giyuu’s ears perk up in delight.

“That’s Mr. Renguko for ya, huh? Yeah, mine were pret-ty terrible, too. I don’t what’s gotten into them. It’s like every thing I teach goes through one ear and out the other.” Her spoon clinked against the glass again as she depressing grazed at the ice cream.

“Well, it is almost summer break and you do teach the upperclassmen. They’re probably having a case of senioritis.”

Giyuu mentally chuckled at thought of her upperclassmen students tripping over thin air when he asked them to run 10 laps around the gym.

“Are you smiling?” It just slipped out of her mouth. She hadn’t intended to let it, but she honestly couldn’t help it. It was the first time she had ever seen him look--happy and it was undeniably cute.

“I was just thinking of my upperclassmen tripping.” He didn’t bother hiding his smile at this point and it was glorious. [Name] found herself blushing at how heavenly he looked. Giyuu had seemed to caught wind of her staring at him in awe, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” [Name] abashedly spoke as she looked away. “I should probably go and get these finished.”

She started to get up to dismiss herself and gathered her papers after shamelessly gawking at him.

“You don’t have to leave. I could use the company.” Giyuu had worked up almost every nerve to let those words flow out. She was nonplussed at his words.

“Y-you sure?”

“Yeah, maybe I can help with those papers.”

“I’d like that.”

[Name] smiled as she sat back down and he held out his hand to take the stack of papers from her hands. Giyuu’s face quickly twisted in contempt as he skimmed over the first paper.

“This is ass.”

Her eyes dilated at his choice of words and he realized that he let his guard down.

“I mean it is.” [Name] laughed loudly at his brash statement. She didn’t know he was such a clown.

“There’s like zero sentence structure and no punctuation. Also, they’re using run on sentences.” He pointed to the the first few paragraphs. Her eyes twinkled at his sudden sharpness.

“Oh, you’re right! Thank you, Mr. Tomioka. I didn’t think you’d be so good at catching these mistakes.” Giyuu felt his face fluster at her flattering remark.

“Well, I did say I could help you.”

She gazed up from her student’s work to Giyuu’s ice cream coated lips. It didn’t make him any less dreamy to her because all she wanted to do in that moment was use her finger to lap up the remains and swirl her tongue around her finger. And for once [name] let her intrusive thoughts win. She murmured in delight. It tasted even sweeter coming from his lips. The look of disbelief on his face as the heat rushed to his face.

“You’re sweeter than candy, Mr.Tomioka.”

[Name’s] face faltered along side Giyuu’s at the realization that she wasn’t living in her head, but that she had in fact, really done it. Giyuu wiped his mouth with the stack of napkins besides him, wondering how and why he deserved something so delightfully embarassing.

“I’m so sorry--I”

“You should be.” He put his napkin down. “You could’ve told me that I had ice cream on my face.”

[Name] didn’t know whether she should have felt humiliated or not at that point. Did he just completely miss the part where she just indirectly licked ice cream off his face or...?

“So, back to the papers.”

“Ah, y-yeah. The papers!” [Name] scrambled for a moment handing him a small stack. “You work on these to start out and I’ll get started on these.”

Giyuu tried his best to dismiss the trembling from his hand as he took small heap from her hands. His heart beating out of his chest as he kept his cool demeanor from slipping.

“We should do this more often.” He said it without thinking (head empty head ahhh).

[Name] visibly relaxed when those words left his mouth. She didn’t expect him to even help her, but now he was practically asking her to hang out with him more. She flashed him a big smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“That would be a big help, Mr. Tomioka. Thank you.”

He looked down to hide his agitated state.

“Don’t mention it.”

319 notes · View notes

aenaxes · 3 years

Note

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

190 notes · View notes

scarletwritesshit · 1 year

Text

Yosuke Hanamura x F!Reader ❀ Town of Blossoms ❀ June 7th, 2013

Earlier in the day, you received a phone call from Yosuke.

“Hey uh, you might want to avoid Junes altogether today,” he said as soon as you answered your cell phone.

“Hm? Why is that?”

“This place is beyond crazy. Everyone is pushing each other around just to get water and cold snacks. I have to cut my breaks in half today just to be able to get a hold on them!”

You were staring outside the window in absolute disgust at the sun, internally cussing out the weather for somehow always making your lives miserable. Even if Yosuke had a moment of freedom, by the time he would be on his usual break, the temperatures would’ve reached intolerable highs. At least the flowers seemed to be enjoying it, though. The purple patch of hydrangeas that you have been keeping your eyes on were absolutely flourishing.

They were so beautiful, that you were tempted to grab a few for yourself to display in your room. Even better, they would make an absolutely perfect gift for Yosuke. Because he hated flowers. Totally.

“Try not to die,” you said. “It would be quite unfortunate to lose you after all this time.”

“I’ve already had one close call today, and I sure as hell don’t need another. I only got a chance to drop you a line because I took shelter in the freezer, though I can’t stay here for long.”

Of course, the back freezer would explain his survival. From what little he has told you about it, it was appropriate to assume that it was somewhat like his new secret hideout, except this time, slightly more secretive.

“Anyways, uh…the reason why I wanted to call you,” he said. “I wanted to ask if…”

“If what?”

“If you would like to…come on over to my place for the weekend? If we’re going to be cooped up inside because of the heat, why not be locked up together? Things will be a lot more enjoyable for both of us that way.”

Either Yosuke was being rather forward with his intentions, or it was merely a strangely worded invitation to spend the next few days watching horrible superhero movies. Usually, though, weekend visits were planned a few days in advance, but for him to be calling you like this, especially when Junes was swamped with customers? It was admittedly a bit odd, causing a few questions to arise within your mind.

It felt wrong to think of your friend in such a questionable manner. Besides, nothing of note has ever happened while you two were hanging out, and nothing probably ever will. All things considered, it is a bit surprising at times, but he clearly valued your friendship too much to try anything funny.

Weren’t you indirectly looking for any sign of hope that he liked you too, though?

“Sorry if this is too sudden of a request,” he said, noticing your lack of response.

“Oh, no, its fine. I don’t have any plans myself, so I can come over whenever.”

“Sweet. Let me know when, I’ll let my parents know you’re coming over for a few days.”

“Now that’s settled, you’d better get back there before your boss, or even worse, the customers run completely rampant.”

“Oh, I could care less about what happens to this place. It’s my paycheck that matters to me most. Anyways, see you around,” he said, before hanging up.

“See you,” you said, but not before he could hang up.

“It’s pretty cool in here, isn’t it?” Yosuke said, opening his bedroom door. You were practically body slammed with an ambush of cold air, a drastic contrast from the rest of his house. You walked inside and he followed in behind you, closing the door behind you two.

“I finally had an air conditioner put in my window,” he said, slapping his window unit with pride. “Turns this place into my own homemade Junes freezer.”

You could stay in here forever, for more reasons than one. Compared to the depressing fan that was doing its best to cool your room, his air conditioner practically turned his room into a luxury suite, at least temperature-wise. Yosuke’s room was disorganized as always, with some video game cases scattered in front of his television and on the floor, as well as controllers and cords carelessly thrown about in the same general area. Some t-shirts that he had neglected to pick up have been thrown about, yet none of his band tees were to be found on the floor. In his half-opened closet, you could spot one of his favorite Nirvana shirts, a clear indicator of his bias towards taking care of his band merch.

His shelves of CDs looked the same as always., The same Linkin Park, Nickelback, Nine Inch Nails, Korn, and other albums were carefully arranged and neatly displayed. His guitar was standing in a corner of his room, clearly maintained but still well used. The majority of his blankets were, unsurprisingly, tossed onto the floor in front of his bed.

You took your usual seat on the floor, in front of the mess of cords and consoles. Though, much to your surprise, Yosuke went straight for his bed and threw his body onto it.

“Phew. I’m beat, man,” he said, sighing.

“I haven’t even done much myself, and I feel about as drained as you are,” you said, flopping backwards onto the floor.

“This heat is brutal as hell,” he complained, “Every day, by the time I come home from work, I have absolutely no energy left to do anything whatsoever.”

“I can see that. Your controllers are starting to show signs of gathering specks of dust.”

“I’m tired of lazing around because of all of this heat, which is why I begged for my air conditioner to be put in despite it not being officially summer yet.”

“It’s been bad enough lately outside to justify having it in so soon.”

“It does makes things better, but still doesn’t fix how drained I’ve been feeling lately. Truth to be told, I invited you over so suddenly because I just wanted a bit of company. I don’t have anything exciting planned at all.”

“No complaints from me. I could honestly spend the rest of my life in here.”

“Y-you could?” he said, suddenly rolling over to his side to look down at you from atop his bed.

“Yeah…” you said, feeling relaxed from the cool air, “It’s like heaven in here.”

“…Heaven? Are you sure that’s the right comparison to use here?”

“You’re right. That place was responsible for months of hell for us.”

“Ughh…” Yosuke groaned, rolling back onto his bed completely. “I’d hate to feel like a waste of your time by doing absolutely nothing, so…want to watch a movie? I really don’t have the energy nor the heat tolerance for much else.”

“Sure. Crappy superhero movies beat laying on the floor staring at your ceiling.”

“Crappy? Hey! Featherman is a work of art!” he said, suddenly springing upright. “I heard that the newest installment is supposed to be a revolutionary take on the series, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it!”

“And by that, you mean that you illegally downloaded a copy off of the internet.”

“It’s not about the method, it’s about the result!” he said while sliding himself off of his bed. He grabbed a DVD sleeve off of one of the shelves underneath the TV, and surely enough, the disc read, in barely legible handwriting, Featherman II: Turbo.

Joy. Another ridiculous live action movie featuring a bunch of idiots doing karate moves in stupid costumes.

It wasn’t the movies themselves, but rather, Yosuke’s reactions to them what made sitting through cheesy and low-quality superhero films worthwhile. He always got so amped up during fight scenes, and it was quite adorable of him to be filled with such excitement. Strangely enough, none of the movies invoked enough emotion to make him shed a tear, at least in front of you. It was a bit odd considering his…somewhat pathetic nature, but you figured that he was preoccupied with waiting for the return of an action scene to care too much about emotionally moving plots.

“One of these days, the police are going to track you down for both having an awful taste in movies and illegally downloading said movies.”

“You really think so? They couldn’t even catch a murderer that was right in front of them.”

“I can’t argue with that one.”

Yosuke slid the disc into the empty slot on his DVD player. He then grabbed the remote off of the top of the box and threw the last blanket that was on his bed onto the floor. The TV blasted obnoxious high energy music, startling you and probably Yosuke as well. He quickly selected the play option to further avoid the risk being scolded for having the volume too high, though the menu was guaranteed to be as twice as loud as the movie itself. He then placed the remote down on his side table, and sat himself on his bed up against the wall.

You finally rose from the floor to get a view of the unknown length of torment that was yet to come. The opening sequence played, with the characters in colorful suits fighting in sync to the music. While you were unamused by this, you moved over to sit in front of his bed to have a more comfortable view, but he called your name before you could sit back down.

“Can’t be that comfortable on the floor. Come sit up here, with me. Who knows what snack crumbs made their home in my carpet anyways.”

When he put it that way, it was hard to argue against his offer, so you pulled yourself up from the floor by grabbing onto his bed, then sort of tumbled on yourself. Yosuke seemed too engaged in the movie to notice how close you were sitting next to him, so you didn’t bother repositioning yourself. If it was a problem for him, then he surely would’ve flung you to the slide by now. Or perhaps he genuinely did not care that you were sitting close enough for your legs to be touching.

You tried focusing on the movie, to perhaps distract yourself from how close you have managed to become to Yosuke physically. The opening action sequence was something else, featuring a group of heroes in different colored suits battling fire breathing movie props. With how far CGI has come, you would think that they would favor using that in order to make it feel more realistic, but perhaps the handcrafted set pieces were a part of Featherman’s charm. Or not. You never really paid much attention to it.

After the screen flashed the title of the movie, the general tone of the movie calmed down greatly, presumably to set up the plot. You glanced over at Yosuke who was watching with great anticipation of serious action being built up to. Minutes passed, and no sign of a fight scene was in sight. Maybe this movie was on the longer side, with more time dedicated to setting up the plot for even better fight scenes? At this point, it has been dragging out so long, you had to admit, his previous choices were astronomically better than this one.

You turned look at his expression on occasion, which was becoming more and more noticeably bored. The fact that Yosuke was getting bored during a superhero movie truly said something about its quality.

45 minutes in, still no sign of action. You had stopped bothering to keep track of the plot altogether, and were more focused on something even slightly attention grabbing to take place. The other movies that he had chosen at least had action scenes accordingly paced throughout, even if they were not solely comprised of fights. This movie was just…talking. And more talking. With a side of interpersonal drama. It started to feel more like a reality TV series than an actual superhero movie.

From the look on his face, Yosuke seemed to agree with what you were thinking. He yawned very loudly over the talking in the movie, which you didn’t care about as you were sick and tired of the monotonous stalling.

“Is anything interesting going to happen?” he complained.

“Yosuke, this movie made me realize just how good I had it with your other choices,” you said.

“Even I’m agreeing with you that this movie sucks. Where’s the action? And there’s nothing super about these heroes!”

“Well, you had your allotted action scene already.”

“Yeah, during the first five minutes. The opening is probably the best part of this movie so far.”

“You could always stop it and put something else in.”

“No, it’s far too late in the evening to start something else now. Besides, I’ve seen every other piece of Featherman media…I have to stay strong and get through this.”

You had a feeling that he would not be able to get through this at all. You looked over at Yosuke, noticing that he was struggling to stay focused on the television. Though your eyes were on the TV, you still could not focus yourself, as you kept spacing out and getting lost within your own head.

A sudden weight on your shoulder snapped you back into focus. You had absolutely no how long it has been, but you clearly spaced out for some time waiting for something noteworthy to happen. For all you know, you could’ve gotten so bored that you spaced out through the entire fight scene, or lack thereof. Right now, however, you were less concerned about the happenings in the movie and more about why your side felt so heavy all of a sudden. You turned your head slightly to look beside you and saw that Yosuke was out cold, bearing almost his entire weight on your shoulder. If you made no effort to sit up yourself, he would’ve pushed you over onto your side.

Still caught in a daze from being startled back to reality, you thought, why not allow for him to knock you down completely? That didn’t seem like a bad idea, as you were beginning to fall asleep yourself. The movie was seriously that boring, or maybe you found the weight of Yosuke’s body so comforting.

It was the movie. Definitely.

You had no clue what hour it was, but you opened your eyes to find yourself laying on your back. You lifted your head up slightly to see that the main menu for the terrible Featherman movie was blaring its opening soundtrack. You wanted to find the remote to shut it off, but your body was mysteriously being weighed down.

It seems as if the movie was so intolerably boring that the two of you fell asleep together, as Yosuke was still asleep with one of your arms holding him relatively tight. As you still wanted to shut the television off, you did your best to not disturb him as you reached for the remote, but it was to no avail. As soon as you managed to turn the TV off, you noticed that he had woken up.

“What…huh?” he said, groggily.

It took him a few moments of sleepily moving his body for him to realize the position that he now found himself in.

“Oh, I uh…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- “

“Relax,” you said, still keeping your arm snug around him. “The movie was boring as hell anyways.”

As you held him close, you felt him try to resist ever so slightly, as he thought this was of his own subconscious doing. There was no use in getting up now, as you both were on the verge of passing out again. No need to prepare a second area to sleep if you were both comfortable as it is.

“You’re…not moving from the bed?” he asked, confused.

“You have to admit, this is quite comfortable…” you said.

“I-I guess…”

“Feels a lot nicer to be held this way than to be hit by someone, doesn’t it?” you said, gently moving your hand to stroke some of his hair. He gave a very muffled response, which you couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with you or not. Sometimes, you did wonder if he ever had any form of gentle treatment, considering the harshness of Chie’s behavior that you had witnessed in the past. Perhaps even worse, was his lack of retaliation for that sort of thing.

Regardless, you were happy to provide at least some form of physical comfort for him, perhaps one of the few opportunities he’s ever had in his entire life. After all, there was no harm in best friends sharing a bed for the night, right?

#p4 #persona 4 #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #yosuke hanamura #yosuke hanamura x reader

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