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#but its always nice to see my notifs light up
bl-inkstone · 1 year
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actually maybe i should come out and say that my asks are open for brainrots n stuff. requests for full fics aren't open rn bc im not really that confident about my writing, but plot bunnies and brainrots are all welcome!!
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jilixthinker · 3 months
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slowly to me
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=͟͟͞♡ virgin!felix × noona!fem reader
=͟͟͞♡ bestfriends/roommates to lovers
word count: 7.4K
content warning: explicit sexual content, sub!felix, soft dom!noona reader, felix is a virgin, corruption kink if you squint, mutual masturbation, clit play, fingering, cock play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (as usual), creampie, they are clueless idiots in love.
a/c: i wanted to write this for the longest time and now i am kinda nervous sharing it because it feels more personal (?) and intimate than usual. hope you will enjoy it ♡
=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!
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[00:17 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
noona 💙
are you awake?
please tell me you are
I can't find my keys 😪
i know it's late
don't hate me
You blink your eyes open a few times. The sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand is insistent over the chattering noise coming from your laptop. You must have fallen asleep more than 30 minutes ago, considering that you are not familiar with the episode of the anime you are currently watching. Your fingers brush against the cover of your phone and you finally grab it with a sleepy grunt. When you unlock it, not without typing the wrong code twice, you notice that your chat with Felix is already open, a few notifications popping on the screen.
[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
noona 😪😪
[00:18 AM] you
where are you now
[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
outside 😪
noona, my savior
my only light in the darkness 💙
You force yourself to sit on the bed as you yawn. When you read the last text, you chuckle despite of how sleepy you feel. It's a little bit late to be coming back home, even for Felix, but you don't mind. Felix usually stays awake till dawn, always prone to chat and watch tv series together whenever you cannot sleep. You help each other in your own ways, yours being the responsible counterpart in your household.
You find your slippers with your feet and you finally stand up, heading outside of your room and to the corridor. It's pretty warm already this time of year, and you don't even bother putting on something over your light pajamas. It's just Felix anyway, he did see you at your worst so many times that you cannot even remember.
When you open the door, Felix is fighting with the zipper of his denim jacket. He is dressed casually, almost as if he didn't put any effort on what he was going to wear. A pink hoodie is picking out from his black slacks, and his hair is styled in a messy bun, a few locks escaping from the hair tie and covering his eyes.
"Noona, I owe you." he huffs, offering you a toothy smile as soon as you let him in.
"Don't mention it. I don't even have plans for tomorrow morning, I can just sleep in." you yawn in response, plopping on the couch and closing your eyes again.
Felix hums and throws his jacket on the nearest chair of your shared living room before letting himself fall next to you, face immediately finding its favorite place into the crook of your neck.
"How was your date?" you ask him, circling his shoulders with your arm and letting him scooch closer to you.
You feel his cold nose nuzzling against your collarbones and you chuckle, bringing your hand to the top of his head and starting to untie the loose bun. Felix puffs and you can hear his lips curving into a small pout.
"As always." he mumbles. "He was cute. Funny. He paid for my order."
You nod, and your fingers find their way up to his scalp, scratching it lightly and pulling a soft grunt out of his lips. "But..." you add, waiting for the inevitable epilogue.
"But..." he shifts from his position to lay down with his face on your lap. "- I felt nothing. He was very handsome, and smart. He was nice. I could tell he would make a great boyfriend. But I just looked at him and... I couldn't see myself kissing him, or touching him. It felt like looking at a nice painting, you know? I don’t know what is wrong with me."
"Nothing is wrong with you, Lix." you murmur in the dark. Your thumb moves from his soft locks and start circling the plump skin of his cheek. Felix huffs again and rubs his nose against your lower stomach. He does it often, and it makes him look like a small kitten looking for some comfort. Your heart always sinks at that.
"I am serious." you continue. "Feelings cannot be controlled. It's not your fault if you didn't feel attracted to him. Maybe he just wasn't the one."
Felix looks at you from his position, his big pleading eyes are a little tired.
"And who will be the one, noona? I am 23 and I didn't find a single person yet. I didn't even... you know." Felix lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "Can you tell how hard is it to reach this age without experimenting with anyone? I feel left out."
"Does it bother you so much? Being a virgin?" you ask him. Felix and you are used to talk a lot about everything without any sort of embarassment, but he only mentioned the topic of his inexperience a few times in your many years of friendship.
You didn't believe him at first. Felix was... Felix. The most precious human being on earth, smart and kind, generous and funny, witty and reliable. Your bestfriend, your proclaimed soulmate, and the prettiest person you've ever seen. Him being a virgin sounded like a joke to you. He confessed it when he was 18 at the time, and he was a little tipsy after a few bottles of beers you two had shared after moving into your new apartment. You could tell it was an uncomfortable topic for him, and you never asked him again. You just told him that he was young, and that the situation would change quickly in the following months.
But years passed, five to be exact. And Felix didn't have sex with anyone. He finished college, started working and met people, he started dating even, but as soon as the people he was seeing asked him for something more, he shut everything down and disappeared from their lives.
"It does bother me, yes." he answers quietly. "Because I am not afraid of intimacy itself. I just... don't feel the right attraction. I want to, but I can't. All these pretty boys I met, and the furthest I've gone is kissing. I don't know what to do, noona."
Felix shudders and you pull him closer to you. His voice is almost a whisper and his breathing is getting a little heavy. Your fingers go back to stroke through his hair gently, as you try to calm him down.
"Have you considered dating girls?" you ask him. "You told me you felt more comfortable with them."
Felix's arms circle your waist as he hugs you tight. He looks at you intently with a shy smile. He looks so tiny all curled up like this.
"I do love girls. More than boys actually. I thought about that a lot." He murmurs as he pulls you so close that your stomach is pressed completely against his cheek. "But I feel shy around them. I cannot help but thinking that I would mess everything up. With boys... it would be easier. I know how a male body works. But I have no clue on how to, uh —"
You chuckle at his words and you lean forward to pinch at his nose, amused by his reaction. "How to touch them?" you smile at him.
Felix laughs and lets out a breathless sigh. He pulls away slightly, though keeping his eyes locked on you. You can see a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
"Uhm, yes. That." His voice is still playful, but you can hear the nervousness in his breath as well. "You know I have never kissed a girl before. Just boys. Uh–, I know nothing, noona." he exhales.
You scrunch your nose and you let yourself relax against the sofa behind you. Felix's arms are still linked tightly around your waist. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Lix," you breathe out. "Human nature will do its thing. When you'll find yourself in that situation, your body will know what to do."
"I'm not so sure." he murmurs, starting to rub his nose against your hipbone, sniffing at the fabric like he always does when he is feeling a little overwhelmed.
Your hand finds its way toward the back of his neck and you apply a slight pressure on the skin there. Felix lets out a shaky breath.
"You will see. With the right person, you won't feel uncomfortable at all. It's normal to don't know stuff, you know. We've all been there. And each body, each person, is different. You can figure things out along the way, by asking and learning." You try to reassure him. "It's not a performance. You should just focus on feeling good and let the other person feel good too. I promise it's not so complicated as you think."
Felix hums quietly and a mellow silence falls around you. The room is still dark, it should be around 1 a.m. now, but a beam of moonlight shines through the window, reflecting small glimpses of silver upon Felix's hair.
Felix feels small and soft on your lap. He is still hugging you, and you know him enough to sense that he is restraining himself somehow. You can feel the distress in the way his tiny hands are fisting the cotton of your pajamas around your waist.
"Lixie, sweetheart..." you murmur, voice little higher than a sigh. Felix holds tighter on you, as if he is scared of you running away. As if you could.
The fact is that you love Felix. You always did, in a way. You cannot tell exactly when you fell in love with him, but it happened sometime between your last year of highschool and your freshman year of college. You remember Felix grabbing your hand when you graduated in summer, sweat under your dress from being exposed to the hot sun, waiting for your speech. You remember him intertwining your fingers and smiling at you with devoted eyes when he helped you moving in your new dormitory. You remember him wetting your shoulder with warm tears because you were going to be separated from each other for the first time. And, oh. At a certain point you just knew.
You never talked about that, of course. You didn't think you needed to. Things between you were perfect already, and you were happy you've managed to slip neatly into your routine. Felix needs you in a way nobody else can comprehend. And you need him too, in a slight different way. And it's okay, you've always been good at managing your own feelings.
"Noona..." he answers timidly.
"What are you thinking about? I can hear the sound of your brain working no stop." you shrug, looking at him. The moonlight looks the ideal light to admire him, you find yourself admitting.
Felix looks over at you, his lips upturned with a reluctant smile. "It's just... I don't think I will ever find this person." he sighs softly.
"Why so? I cannot imagine anyone who wouldn't want to be with you. You are perfect." you say, eyes jumping down to Felix's delicate frame. His button nose covered in freckles scrunches a bit over the line of his plump lips. They look moist. They must be soft.
From his gaze, you can see that your words are the last thing Felix was expecting to hear from you. "Because–" he stutters while the pressure of his hands on you becomes almost too much, "–there is already... ugh, nevermind."
The silence that follows his semi-confession is heavy on you. You freeze at the admission, and you can tell from his eyes that he didn't mean to let that slip. That's it – you think – there is someone. Someone who Felix cares about, maybe that he even loves, and that is keeping him from living his life freely. Someone who apparently doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, given that Felix is trying to see other people and complaining about them with you.
Fuck, that hurts. You could have seen it coming, but it still hurts.
You open your mouth to formulate any sort of coherent words of encouragement that you can master, but Felix decides to move from his position at the same time you shift on the sofa to look at him. The impact of your bodies gives gravity a push, and you both go down with a loud humph, landing on the couch with your limbs all entangled. Felix groans as his back collides with the leather, and you open your eyes to check up on him, only to stop as soon as you realize how close you are to each other.
His lean and warm body is all pressed up against the cushions, and suddenly any trace of stoicism has fled the situation. You don't even remember what you were going to say, to be honest. All you are conscious of is Felix's body and the way his eyes are looking at you, making you flush with an unknown tenderness. You take a deep breath and the realization that you can feel his parted thighs caging your hips and his arms pawing at your shirt hits you hard. And maybe it's the late hour, maybe it's because you've spent the last hour talking your hearts out – and the last years repressing your feelings –, or maybe it's because Felix looks so vulnerable like this.
Whatever it is, instead of laughing everything off and move from this awkward position, you keep looking at him as some strands of hair fall onto his forehead and his breathing gets a little quicker. You find yourself thinking that maybe this is the most beautiful Felix has ever looked.
"Noona." he murmurs, and you can feel how the air shifts around you. His make-up is a little bit smudged around his eyes, you notice, and you lift your hand to rub at the corner of his eyelid with your finger. Felix trembles lightly as you touch him, and desire tugs at you, pushing you towards a path that you know is not wise.
"Noona–" he breathes out again, this time not much louder than a whisper. "I want to try something."
"Felix," you say unsteadily as Felix's hand grabs at your pajamas a little more firmly. "This isn't a good idea."
"Why so?" he asks, voice all tiny, shifting closer to you anyway. Everytime you try to look away from his lips it's like your eyes have been glued in place. "You said that with the right person it wouldn't feel uncomfortable. I– you.. I don't feel uncomfortable with you."
You sigh at his words. You are sure there is almost a thousand reasons why you shouldn't be doing this. First of all, Felix doesn’t love you. Not the way you do, at least. And he is hurting now, he is sad. He is not in the conditions of taking such a decision. But you can hardly manage a coherent thought right now, with him being this close to you.
He doesn't like you back, you cannot do this.
"Felix, I am honored that you trust me this much. I really am." you manage, but your voice sounds faint. "But this is not the right thing to do now. You don't want it to happen this way."
At that, Felix pauses and looks at you. He bites his lip, as if he was looking for the right words, and his eyes looks different, almost watery. "Don't you..." he stutters, "am I not good enough?"
You blink in confusion and a thick layer of guilt fills your stomach to the brim. You hate seeing Felix in distress, you cannot stand the way his timid smile leaves his face. You would give him the moon if that would make him happy.
"Oh no, Felix, sweetheart," you confess, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. The freckled skin feels soft and warm under your fingers. "this is not what I meant. I just– fuck," you swear in protest. "I just don't think I am the right choice. You deserve the right person for this."
Felix’s gaze fractures and he suddenly lets out the tiniest sigh, a pleading look framing his delicate traits. He turns his face to the left, leaning on your touch and he rubs his nose on the palm of your hand.
"Noona, you are not the right person. You are my person." He shyly admits, voice muffled on your skin. "But I can understand if you don't want this. If you don't want me the way I do. I am sorry for bringing this out, I should have kept that for myself."
You freeze, guilt becoming dread and pooling on your stomach. Oblivious to any of this, Felix gives you a small, sad smile and continues, "I tried to ignore it, believe me, I did. I kept myself from feeling this much because I knew it wasn't the same for you. But I can't help it, noona. I started seeing other people in the hope that it would eventually fade away. But it didn't. And now I am making a fool out of myself." Felix looks over at you and his smile is not the one you are used to see on his face. "Sorry for ruining everything," he sighs, "I just love you."
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
You feel a fist of air being pushed out of your lungs like a truck. Felix's eyes are big and sweet, and a single tear escapes from his lashes to roll down the apple of his cheek. You fucked up. You fucked up so bad. You misunderstood everything. Guilt nestles in your chest like a stone, scraping at your heart.
"Felix," you say, your voice sounding foreign and groggy, "Felix. You love me? You love me?"
Felix's eyes jump down to your lips just for a second, and then back at you. He sniffs as he brings his free hand to his face, rubbing the tear away. "I do." he admits. "I really do."
The truth in his tone has you let out an inaudible gasp. Then, in the span of a second, just the time of a blink, everything changes.
"Say it again." You whisper as your eyes lock into Felix's. And then Felix opens his mouth, just barely, and his muttered words stay still on the tip of his tongue.
"Say it." You repeat as your thumb shifts, stroking slowly along his jaw and down to his chin. "Wanna hear it again."
Felix blinks, and he looks like he can't come up with something to say at all. "Noona, what are you, uh–" he gasps when your fingers catch his bottom lip, pinching it a little to enjoy its softness.
"Lix, sweetheart..." you whisper, letting your face fall slowly down to his neck. The insides of your tighs press against the outside of Felix's as to trap him there. "You want me, uh? You love me?" you tease him, your hand coming up to steady him by the chin, keeping him still while your mouth finally founds the tender skin of his neck and you place a single peck under his earlobe. "I wanna hear you saying it."
A weak whimper makes itself known at the bottom of Felix's throat when you angle your head to the side and leave a humid trail of kisses all along the column of his neck. "Noona, I... why are you – ah – why are you doing t-this?" he mutters with a sigh.
You grin against his skin at the sound of his affected voice, and you nose at his chin blowing another tiny peck there. "Just say it." You repeat.
Felix's eyes are semiclosed now, but his pupils are wide and dark, and your grip on his jaw tightens a bit. Just another wet kiss on his Adam's apple is sufficient to convince him to give you what you're asking for. "I want you." He grumbles as his legs start to tremble under your weight. "I love you." He breathes.
And that's it. Felix doesn’t have the time to even realize what is going on before you are pressing down with purpose, your lips firm against his and your hands buried in his hair as he lets out a tiny sob. His mouth is cherry red and sweet, and your lips slid against it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him melting against the couch. The kiss feels almost electric, and the low groan Felix exhales bubbles up into the back of your throat.
Felix is soft, and his body becomes malleable and pliant beneath your touch as soon as he clings onto you with fervent hands, a little desperate to keep hold of how good he is feeling. He moans beautifully every time your lips detach from his to catch some breath, and his fingers find your face too, curling against your cheeks and keeping you close to him.
As soon as your tongue licks languidly at his bottom lip, his mouth opens up to let the warm muscle slip into his mouth with a low grunt. You can feel that Felix is not experienced in the way he is unable to do anything but tremble with pleasure in the bracket of your arms as your lips glide against his, slick and wet. He lets out another whimper when your tongue licks at the roof of his mouth and your head feels dizzy and heavy with desire.
You cannot remember the last time you felt this good and this right, to be honest. Felix’s confession is still lingering in your brain as your hips press against his in a swift movement, coaxing a soft moan out of the boy under you. You smile in the kiss, feeling as if everything in the universe is finally in its designed place and, at the same time, all condensed in the way the two of you are wrapped up in each other so tightly that you can’t keep track of where one of you starts and ends.
Reluctanly, you force yourself to separate from Felix's tender mouth just a few millimiters. "Lix, baby," you whisper lovingly on his lips. "You have no idea how long I wanted to do this."
"Y-you wanted this?" he pants, parting his legs more and allowing you to slot your body inbetween of them. His breath is sticky and hot and you feel yourself getting restless on top of him.
"Sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love you. How much I want you." You confess.
"But... but you've never–" he stutters under your gaze. "Oh God, don't tell me we've been this stupid!"
You chuckle and nod slowly. "Apparently, yes, we have been." You smile, and your chest is so full of fondness and love that it's hard to breathe. "And we wasted a lot of time. But at least we're here now."
Felix nods timidly and you lean in again, this time just kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin under his chin. You move closer to Felix's ear and then back towards his jaw. He starts to breathe harder, hands clutching the shirt of your pajamas, and his thumb brushes against the hardened nub of your nipple, making you hiss quietly.
Felix moans when you start licking at his lips again.
"Good?" you ask, smiling against his skin.
Felix nods. "Yeah. Y-you can keep going."
You comply, because you could never deny anything to him. You softly suck his upper lip between your teeth and let it go with a loud pop. Then you move to his neck again, and you bite him carefully a few times until Felix starts to squirm beneath you. The thought that you are the first person, the first woman, doing this to him has heat rushing to your face and you wonders if Felix wants to do more, or if he wants to keep things over the clothes. You are okay waiting. You've waited for years.
"Can I… can I ask you something?" he stutters when your hands find his hips and you start caressing them in tiny circles.
"Of course, Lix. You can ask me anything." you reassure him, rising your head from the crook of his neck and looking at him fondly.
"You know what we were talking about before," he breathes shyly, eyes big and teary. "I wasn't able to do anything with all the people I dated because... they were not you," he admits. "and – uh, I don't know how to say this. It's embarassing."
Felix sighs as he tries to hide his face behind his hands, but you stop him by grabbing his wrists.
"Do you want to try? Now?" you ask calmly, ignoring the burning lava that is flooding into your veins at the thought of having Felix like that, just for you.
Felix nods again, all soft and timid. "I wanna try. With you." He mutters as his hips buck involuntarily against yours for the first time. And that's when you notice that Felix is hard under you, cock stirring to life when you grind down into him as a response to his movement. "B-but I don't know anything, noona. You have to show me."
You hover your face over Felix's for a moment, searching something into his eyes before diving in again for a kiss. Felix hums languidly against you and you pull his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before letting it go slowly, teeth dragging. Felix groans deep in his chest and you can feel the vibrations go straight to your pussy. Then the realization that you are finally doing it hits you.
You. And Felix.
I need to stay focused, you think when you start feeling your head becoming too clouded with desire. Felix feels so tender and warm against you, and it's difficult to concentrate when your arousal begins to pool in your panties, just a few layers of fabric separating your core from Felix's poor neglected cock. The kisses get sloppier but Felix doesn’t seem to mind, and you quickly find a rhythm between the movements of your lips and the gentle rocking of your body against his.
"What do you want to do, sweetheart? You can tell me." You hum as your mouth latches again onto the spot between Felix's neck and shoulder, sucking and then soothing the skin with your tongue.
"Ah, fuck…" Felix curses when your hand finally trails down his chest and lightly grazes his cock from over his pants. He feels sensitive and overwhelmed in the best way possible, and he feels like he is losing his mind already. "W-want to touch you, noona, please. Please, I've been wanting to touch you forever."
A tiny moan escapes from your parted lips at Felix's confession and you are pretty sure that your panties are now ruined for good. You can feel the hot stickiness gluing them to your entrance.
"Okay, baby." You sigh, shifting your weight in order to lift your hips a little from Felix's body. "You can touch me. I'll show you how. Is that what you want?"
Felix pants and his fists close again on your shirt as if he's trying to steady himself. "Y-yes please. Show me." He answers, and he looks completely blissed out, hair as a messy crown around his beautiful face.
"Okay." You concede, gathering all of your weight on your right arm to pull down both your pajamas shorts and underwear with just one quick motion, air finally hitting pungently the heath of your pussy.
Felix gulps and you see his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously as he stares at the way a sticky string of slick is connecting your entrance to the cotton of your panties. You feel your core pulsing at the sight and you let the garnments fall on the ground, climbing back to Felix's body and straddling his lap.
Felix looks up to you, but his eyes keep flicking back between your face and the mound of your pussy, and you try to thrust gently against the hard fabric of his jeans, just over his hardened erection. When you rock your hips tentatively on his bulge, your clit gets caught on the cold metal of his belt, making you hiss. Your pussy throbs, releasing a gush of arousal over where Felix's cockhead should be.
"Lixie, baby." You breathe out. "Noona needs your hand for this."
Felix cheeks are as red as cherries and he hiccups at your request, nodding twice and pliantly offering you his right hand. He places it just near your thigh, not daring to get any closer to your heath without any given permission.
You smile softly at him and you wrap your thumb and index around his wrist, bringing his palm to the front of your pussy and letting it brush against the hood of your clit for just a second. "I guess you watched porn before, uh, baby?" you ask him grinding gently on his hand. "I think you know a bit about female anatomy already."
Felix sighs and a wanton moan rises from his throat when he feels your engorged clit bumping against his skin. "Y-yes, I have." He blushes.
You laugh breathily at his shyness and you let his hand slide past your front to eventually press on your labia, guiding his slim fingers to spread the wetness gushing from your hole.
"Usually I prefer to be stimulated here," you say, nudging the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bud. "In little circles." and you move your hand in tandem with him, circling your clit and trembling a little from his insecure touch. Another spurt of arousal drips from your pussy and coaxes Felix's fingers, making him moan.
"But now I want it inside." Your voice is sickengly sweet, and Felix looks like he is one step away from hyperventilating. His teeth dig on his bottom lip and he sighs in pleasure.
"Please," he whines. "Please, let me."
You roll your hips so that the tips of his fingers catch your entrance, and suddenly you sink down in just one motion. His middle and ring finger meet you halfway, and he watches your face in adoration as the two digits push into you. You let out a small whimper when his palm finds your mound again, and you finally sit on him fully.
"Ah – noona. G-god." He keens as he feels his fingers being wrapped up with your warmth.
You lift up from him, desperate for some friction, your hand still grabbing his wrist to guide him and help him. "Baby, fuck, finally." You grunt as your hips swing forward and back to create a sort of rhythm. "Wanted you like this for the longest time, you have no idea."
Felix mewls as he hears the squelching sound of his hand against your throbbing cunt. The schlick schlick is filthy and loud, and his head starts spinning. "Noona, you are so soft, so warm. Fuck, why are you so wet?" He cries, eyes big and round and locked at the way your pussy is engulfing a part of himself.
The drag of his fingers makes your head floaty and you grind further down onto his knuckles, the stretch making you want more and more.
"That's how it's supposed to be with a woman, sweetheart. We are programmed to take." You chuckle breathily as you slowly but steadily fuck yourself onto Felix's fingers. "But you are too, right? My sweet boy. You are just taking what I am giving to you, isn't it?"
Felix moans and his pads involuntarily curl upwards, brushing against your gummy spot as his head falls back, deep groans tumbling out of his parted lips. "Ah – too wet noona, too wet. I wanna, w-wanna..."
"What? What do you want, baby? Tell me, I wanna hear." You sound rightfully out of breath while you fuck mercilessly Felix's digits and you flood his hand with your juices. You shift forward to kiss him on the mouth and his palm finds your clit again, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine.
"Wanna... w-wanna be with you. Please, noona, I've waited. I need – oh, God – I need you fully. I l-love you so much, I always wanted it to be with you." He sighs against your mouth before you can slot your lips together and lace your tongue on his, sucking the wet muscle slowly until Felix is reduced as a squirming mess under you.
"Oh my sweet boy, my angel," you praise him as you try to slow down your movements. If you keep going with this pace you will cum too soon, and you want to finish together with Felix for your first time.
Felix follows your mouth and with his free hand he timidly brushes your left breast, staring at the way it bounces with every thrust of your hips on his hand. It looks mesmerized by the way your body moves and gets wet over him, preparing itself to welcome him inside even if he doesn't properly know what to do.
With a low grunt, you force yourself to stop your thrusts and you peck Felix on his tumid, soft lips. His hand falls uselessly on his hip while you balance your body on his waist to finally get rid of your last piece of clothing, throwing the filmsy shirt of your pajamas away.
Felix looks at your naked body as he if he was admiring a painting and, despite of your confidence, you find yourself blushing a little under his devoted gaze. You dreamt about this moment so much, pondering that it would never come, and now it feels almost surreal to have Felix all for you as you always wanted.
"I love you, Felix." You whisper lovingly, a tear stuck on the corner of your eye. "I love you so much."
And Felix beams. His eyes, watery with pleasure, lit up and bring a smile to his beautiful face, the face that you wished you could caress and claim as yours for so many years. "I am yours, noona. Please, make me yours." He murmurs softly.
You kiss him again, and it's hungrier this time, even more than the kisses you already shared. And then the kissing melts into licking, and then into biting, until Felix's hand finds your waist and then falls to cup your ass.
"I need you out of these clothes in 10 seconds." You mutter with a breathy sound, and Felix is fervent to obey, quickly getting rid of his pants and underwear and throwing his pink hoodie away, far from you.
When you crawl back into his lap, Felix is sitting on the couch. You find your place on his legs, straddling him until you are face to face and you can hear the sweet sound of his erratic breathing against your ear.
"I want to do it like this." You breathe out, gently nipping at his lips and then placing a small kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Wanna see you."
Felix sighs and his aching cock, now finally free from the constriction of his pants, throbs against your lower belly, spurting a gush of precum which dribbles into your navel. "I can't believe this is really happening." He hiccups, pleasure making his head feel dizzy.
You smile fondly. "Me neither." And you bring your hand down, resting your hot palm over his shaft and giving pressure until you are dragging the skin of his cock up and down. Felix melts with a breathy mewl.
Felix has a perfect cock, you think, and then you say it out loud. "You have a perfect cock, baby."
Felix gasps and he throws his head back, hitting the cushion of the couch. You can see that his face is flushed with arousal and embarassment, and that makes you feel lightheaded.
"So perfect," you continue, playing with your fingers and bringing your thumb to the engorged tip, smearing the thick droplets of precum all along his aching muscle until you graze his balls. "Perfect size, perfect girth, perfect color. You know how pretty your cock is, baby? Not too long, but chubby. I love it."
"Noona," Felix sighs painfully, thighs parting under your weight to give you more space. He looks fucked up, and you barely touched him.
"I want to play with it forever," you say, picking up your pace and jerking him fully. "And I will do it. I will touch this sweet cock all day long, making it cum so many times, making it feel so so so good."
"Please, please, please." Felix keens and throbs again on your hand, now hard as a rock and trying to stay as still as he can.
"It looks so tasty, too. Wanna slurp it in one bite." You whisper as you swirl your index on the slit of his cockhead and Felix lets out the sweetest groan you could imagine. It's so easy to pleasure him, and he responds to you so well.
"But not now," you reassure him. "Now I need you inside of me. Need you as deep as you can. Need you to be mine."
Felix forces his eyes open and his hands grip into the underside of your thighs, bringing you closer to him. You cross your arms behind his neck, slotting your lips together once again because you just can't get enough of Felix's breathy moans as you bring him to the edge with you.
"Noona, I don't, ah– I don't have a condom." He urges to tell you when you circle your hips against him and his tip catches the entrance of your pussy.
"We don't need a condom. I am on the pill, and I am clean." You pull away to mouth at Felix's neck, and you suck at the column until you are gliding your mouth over his Adam's apple. "And you are too, obviously. Don't worry about that, sweetheart. I need to feel you all hard and raw inside of me."
You kiss Felix again, breaths coming out in restless wisps, hips frantic. "Can you take it?" you ask against his lips, your right hand gripping Felix's wet cock. Felix nods, gulping loudly. With your arm reached behind you and your head dipped forward, you slap the tip against your cunt, eyes never leaving his face.
Felix swallows, and you can feel his heart racing as you nudge his cockhead against your heath, pussy clenching and unclenching for pleasure. You look at him in the eyes for one last time, and then you sink.
When Felix's tip breeches, you whimper at the stretch with you head lolled to the side. You push your hips down, taking Felix's chubby cock slowly until you’re seated on it. And, with his cock fully inside, Felix groans and tears finally spill from his eyes, wetting his cheeks and rolling down to his chin.
"Ah– oh, God, please! P-ple eh e-ease." He cries as he grips your hips so tight that he is gonna leave marks.
"Easy, baby. Easy." You pant, eyes rolling on your skull at the way the head of his cock presses perfectly on your spongy spot. Felix's tongue lolls out from his mouth, and you take the tip between your lips, suckling lightly on it before lifting your hips up and then slamming back again.
"It's too tight, too tight, too w-wet," Felix sobs, a dribble of saliva forming a tiny bubble at the top of his upper lip. You lower your head to look at the way you are taking Felix to the brim, his swollen balls resting on the curve of your ass, and you let out a lewd sound at the view.
But it's not enough, because this is Felix's first time, and you just know from the way he is trembling that he is not gonna last long, the poor angel he is. You played with him a bit too long considering his inexperience, and now you can feel him twitching inside of you, bringing you close as well with just a few pumps.
"I know, baby, I know. You feel so fucking good too. You fill me so well, look." And you take one of the hands that are gripping your hips, making it slide against your pussy to let him feel the point were you two are connected.
Felix grasps the base of his cock with his wrist and he tries to push it even deeper inside of your wet heath with a loud groan. "It's so, s-so good." He repeats mindlessly.
You gather all of your strength, gripping into Felix's shoulders in front of you and letting you knees carry your weight as you finally begin to ride his cock. You raise your ass up just to feel the tip catch at your rim only to force back down, fast and hard.
"Noona, ah– noona!" Felix grunts out, "F-fuck, I can't, I c-can't!"
At a particularly deep thrust, Felix cries out again, a slew of filthy words and many slurred versions of your name coming out of his red, juicy lips.
"Baby, Felix, baby." You moan, letting yourself fall against his chest and beginning to move your hips in circles. You feel his cock hitting deliciously at your cervix and your clit rubbing on Felix's hip bone.
"I lo-oh-ove you." Unable to help it, Felix begins to thrust up quickly, grinding his cock inside of you and smashing his warm cheek against your shoulder, as you involuntarily squeeze your walls around his shaft.
You are trying to make this last a little bit more, but a tight coil of pleasure starts to form in your lower belly, and Felix's heavy and raspy whines tell you that he is in your same conditions. "Feels so good, sweetheart. So thick and hot, you are making me cum, ah– so quick." You blabber, head feeling floaty. "Are you close too? Tell me you are close. Wanna come with you."
Felix hiccups and his thrusts become messy and erratic, cock leaking inside of you as you clench around him. "Close, close, s-so close." He picks you up by your thighs to throw you onto his cock as if you were weightless. "Can I, ah a-ahhh, w-where can I–?" he sobs out with every thrust.
"Inside, Lix, my love. Cum inside," you praise him. "So good to me. So good." And you whine as Felix fucks desperately into you, a thick layer of sweat on his freckled skin.
Two more pushes are what it takes to have your pussy clenching hard and tight around Felix, and as your clit rubs one last time against his pubic bone, your eyes roll backwards and you cum with a filthy long moan, flooding Felix's cock with your juices.
As the orgasm hits you, you smash your lips against Felix's and suffocate your whines on his mouth. As soon as Felix feels you pulsing around his drooly cock, you see him going cross-eyed. Then, he pushes almost violently into your heath and comes with one final, deep smash of his cock, filling you up.
Voice hoarse with pleasure and a little out of breath, Felix moans softly, face finding its comforting place in the crook of your neck. "I love you." he whispers.
You both stay silent for a couple of minutes, and you loll your head to the side to huff warm breaths that tickle Felix's temples.
"How do you feel?" You asks, bringing your fingers to slowly pet Felix's damp hair. You tongue feels heavy inside your mouth, and your legs muscles sting. But you are happy.
"I feel like I waited for this moment for my entire life." Felix's words are slow and shy, despite of what just happened between the two of you. You can feel him chuckling against your shoulder. "I still have to process what is going on."
"We have time." You murmur, kissing his forehead and hugging him lovingly, keeping him safe in your arms. "Now we have all the time in the world."
Felix smiles. The room is not dark anymore.
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©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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our spot * ls2
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a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of infidelity
notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this <;/3
super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words
(f1 masterlist)
(part two)
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logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.
or at least, used to be.
he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.
admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?
the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.
he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.
perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.
logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.
you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.
he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.
he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?
logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.
his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.
all he can do is train for his next season.
he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.
a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.
he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.
heard ur back home
he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.
it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.
just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s
your response is quick.
our spot
logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.
10 minutes. see u
oh. you’re actually asking to see him.
suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?
he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and
his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.
now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?
doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.
maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.
how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.
how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.
he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.
oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.
when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.
he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.
as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.
he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.
it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.
he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.
it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.
his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?
and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.
but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.
logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.
he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.
you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.
he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.
you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.
it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.
"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.
you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."
he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.
in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.
if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.
"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"
logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."
you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."
yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.
"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."
"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."
he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?
he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.
so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.
logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”
“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”
“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”
you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”
“what do you mean?”
“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”
“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”
“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”
logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”
“same.”
he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.
your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.
you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.
it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.
“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.
“i heard from mum.”
“yeah.”
logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”
you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”
“he’s not you, though, logan.”
he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”
“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”
“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”
you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”
logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.
“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”
you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”
“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”
you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”
he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.
not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.
he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.
your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.
the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.
logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”
“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”
“it’s not that easy.”
“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!
“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”
“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”
“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”
“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”
he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”
“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”
“i don’t think it — i know so.”
“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”
“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.
“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”
he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”
“you don’t know that.”
“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”
"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.
when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.
his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.
when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.
logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."
you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."
"what about your apartment?"
"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."
now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.
but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.
all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?
he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.
logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.
"where are you going?"
"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."
"what about your boyfriend?"
"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."
"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."
a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."
he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."
"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"
logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."
"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."
you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.
but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.
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macfrog · 6 months
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walking through fire | one shot
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just something that's been on my mind the last few weeks. i hope that you're all ok going into this difficult time of year. and if there's any part of this, big or small, that you find yourself resonating with - there will always be a warm, cozy chair in my inbox/dms, free for you to come sit, hang; we can talk about everything or nothing at all. love you guys. 🤍
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk. (better than most healthcare systems offer amarite)
warnings: quite literally about depression & anxiety so please read at your own discretion. established relationship, fluffy soft!joel takes care of his girl, implied suicidal thoughts, use of medication to treat depression/anxiety, feelings of worthlessness/burdening, but hope! in the end! a wee sliver of hope!
word count: 2.7k
main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤
November turns on itself all too quickly.
Your body feels like lead, sinking deep into the mattress. Like a broken, rusted shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean; your hand lying limp above the bedsheets like a sailor’s last attempt at reaching over the waves for help.
Joel opened the blinds today. Nuzzled into you, the scruff of his beard sharp on your numb skin, and then stood up and slowly unveiled the glaring light of white cloud. You shrunk further into the bed, your hot breath suffocating you under the sheets. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing in your own rotten air.
He pushes the door open and shuffles across to the bed. Your sea dips when he lowers into it, two arms slipping around your waist like a lifebuoy. He pulls you into his chest; his warm body melting the ice of your bones.
“Hey,” he whispers, and drags his nose across your cheek. He kisses your temple, combs his fingers through your hair. Dabs his thumb along your bottom lip and then says again, “Hey, darlin’. You awake?”
Your eyes flutter open, only enough to see the blurry shape of him; the strong curve of his shoulder, the binary of dark cotton and pale skin.
“Hi, baby. How you feelin’ this mornin’?”
The words catch on the dry cliff of your throat, dangling for a few seconds like panicking climbers, before plummeting into the abyss. You settle for an incoherent mumbling, a vibration on your lips that Joel understands through the pad of his thumb.
“Yeah,” he sniffs, “not so good, huh? That’s okay. You know how much I love you?”
And that peels your eyes open a fraction more. Only enough to sharpen the image of him, to find the dark pools of his eyes and the way the flame in them flickers as he says it.
“Love you so much,” he whispers. The tiny fire thaws the very bottom of your heart, even if only enough to keep the blood pushing heavily through your veins.
Your eyes close over again, and you take his shirt in two weak fists, pulling yourself into his body. Your head fits in the crook of his arm, burying into his side.
“You feel like leavin’ the house today?” he asks, voice sweet and earnest. “Just for a little while? We could go for a walk, could go for a drive. Just you ‘n me, sweet girl.”
You shake your head, your eyes prickling from the sincerity of his question. The guilt beginning to creep its way over your shoulders.
“No? You don’t wanna?” He lifts his head, staring out at the view from the window. “’s a nice day out. Cold, but it’s dry, ‘n the leaves are all orange and yellow, just like you like. Not even for a half hour?”
That same guilt – sneering, bullying – pokes a sharp-clawed finger in your ribs until you answer him. “Tired,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut until you see the sudden, violent assault of stars in your vision.
“I know you’re tired, baby,” Joel says, stroking your back. “But it might do you a little good to get some fresh air. And you’d be with me, and we can come back home whenever you decide.”
Your fear and shame seem to cower beneath his words; melted by the soft timbre of his voice. They retreat inward, burrowing deep between the cage of your ribs, twisting and mangling around your pale bones.
“We can come back whenever?” you whisper, defying their threats.
“Whenever, darlin’. Promise.”
You surrender yourself, letting him take you in his arms and carry you over to your closet, where he sets you down gently. Keeping an arm around your waist, Joel waits patiently as you pick an outfit, and then helps drape it over your frame. You feel more statue than human – solid substance rather than plush flesh. Cold and brittle; the tender touch and lively glow drained from your skin the same way it drains so quickly of energy.
You’ve been fighting for years. Months and months and months of one step at a time and just keep going. Being told you’re more than what’s going on in your brain, being told not to let it become you. But there are days when you stand before the mirror, and you don’t recognize the figure staring back at you. The dark tunnels in place of eyes, the thin line of her lips.
There are days you can see the marks on your skin from how tight your anxiety and depression bind you; wrapping like ivy around your body until there’s nothing left of you to see through the dark green leaves. Just a haggard, shapeless thing. A skeleton too tired to carry the weight of yourself; a heart too weary to beat in time.
There once existed a time you had smiled, even laughed – you know it, you have the lines scored deep into your cheeks to prove it. Sometimes they ache when you think about it, like even they miss the feeling. Joel knows it, too – you sense it whenever he tells some dumb joke, sense that he’s searching your face for the slightest lift, the slightest dip of a dimple. And it fucking kills you, when you realize you have nothing sincere or true to offer him. No swollen cheeks, no flash of teeth. At best, a heavier exhale pushed from your nostrils.
It all feels so long ago, that lighter, fresher, happier you. It feels so far from your clutches. Like you’re drifting further and further from the surface, disappearing into the murky depths of your own mind.
The doctors, the articles, the fucking motivational posts on Instagram all say the same. Keep fighting it. Confront your illness. Prove it wrong. But you’re so fucking tired of fighting. Fighting it the entire drive to work, your heart threatening to burst; fighting it every conversation you have, your façade slowly cracking. Swallowing the panic like you swallow the medication; both of them sticking in your throat and refusing to go down.
There is no fighting it. There is no overcoming through confrontation. If you broke your leg, shattered every bone to dust, would they say the same? You gotta walk on it straight away to make it strong again. You don’t think so.
Joel doesn’t seem to think so, either. Joel, with a heart of molten gold, ready at every turn to let it pour onto your skin and paint it the color of sunlight when you can’t do it yourself. Joel, with his strong arms and wide reach, bundling you up over the top of all that foul ivy and snapping its thick stems with just his fingers.
Joel, who will sit at the edge of your bed and watch you take your meds; kiss your forehead and squeeze you tight when you show him your empty mouth. Joel, who will hold you in the dead of night and tell you stupid stories about his brother when they were kids, rubbing your back and chasing the dark ghosts from your mind.
Joel, who still sees something in you – whether he’s imagining it or not – and decides each day that it’s worth protecting. Worth saving. You’re worth saving, even on the days you don’t believe it yourself.
He drives for ten minutes, a little out of the suburbs and into a thicket of fire-colored leaves and solid, frozen ground. Fall sinks its teeth deep into the roots of the earth, drying up the bloom of summer and replacing it with something harder, something tougher. Nature is dying in the November breeze – the amber leaves painted the color of the trees’ blood as they fight a losing battle against the shifting of time. You feel yourself decaying with it: a drawn-out, painful surrender to the bleak days and dark nights.
Joel keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride; you keep your fingers intertwined with his. The fluttering in your chest gets quicker and quicker, spreads its wings wider the further you feel from home. Your mouth dries up, forcing you to swallow after every third breath. But his hand stays there, planted on you like the root of an ancient tree: never shifting, no matter how strong the wind throws punches.
A shaky breath falls from your lips when he slows to a halt, the truck parked by a long wooden gate. He cuts the engine and turns to you, squeezing your leg lightly.
“We’re just gonna walk down there,” he nods out the window, “and back again. As slow as you like, ‘n we turn back when?”
“Whenever I want,” you whisper, nodding.
“Whenever you want, darlin’. Just say the word, alright? Sound good?”
You nod, blinking away the strain of tears across your vision. Your knee bounces, the metal buckles on your boots clinking in the footwell.
Joel rubs his thumb against your cheek. Lifts your free hand and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. “I am so proud of you,” he mumbles against them, like scoring it into the bone.
You fill your cheeks, flattening your lips together, and he pulls on his door handle.
Five paces from the car, you realize how cold it is. The bitter air snaps at your cheeks, drags the salty tears from your eyes. Joel quickly fixes the collar of your jacket and pulls your scarf over your face.
“You bring gloves?” he asks.
Your head shakes in response.
“Here.” He fishes in the pockets of his tan jacket for a dark brown pair, flicking his fingers for you to hold your quivering hands out. He slips them on, all too big for you, and then knots his fingers through yours and leads you on down the sloping backroad.
Bordered by tall trees on either side, you feel secluded and hidden from the rest of the world. It fills you with equal parts comfort and terror: nobody else is here. No one can see your vacant eyes, the wet stain of fallen tears on your cheeks. Not the vice grip you have on your boyfriend or the weak quiver of your voice.
And at the same time: nobody else is here. No people, no sign of life. Just an isolated track, the looming trees overhead, the squelch of muck and the bite of fall for company.
Joel matches your pace, strolling along by your side with your arm through his and his hand resting on top of yours. He catches your glances over your shoulder, sees the jittery movements of your head as you scan the scene around you, and pats the back of your hand tenderly.
“Take a deep breath for me.”
You fill your lungs with a chilly gulp of air, pushing it back out again as steadily as you can.
“And again.”
You repeat the exercise, your chest swelling against your buttoned up coat.
“You’re doin’ great,” he says, looking down at you. “You feelin’ okay?”
“I’m – Yeah, I’m just…” you twist back to search for the wooden gate, “…can’t see the truck anymore.”
“’s right there, promise ya. You wanna go back?”
He pauses, and your boots scuff to a halt on the stony terrain. You chew the inside of your cheek, eyebrows arching to release more tears from between your lashes. “No,” you breathe, “I wanna try to go further.”
“Then let’s try to go further. Yeah?”
You nod, setting off when you realize he’s waiting for you to take the lead.
The fields on either side of you are strung with a thick blanket of mist from one end to the other, masking the trees at the opposite side and obscuring the line between earth and sky. Your body close to Joel’s, your heartbeat attempting to match the steady pace of his, you feel safe, protected. The promise that you can call it a day whenever your body begins to weigh too much, whenever your lungs begin to falter.
Somewhere between the thinning of the hedgerows, another slanted, shabby gate materializes. Its crisscross panels and worn wooden posts separating you from the first company in your twenty-minute walk.
“Joel,” you call, loosening your grip on his arm and wandering over to the long, dewy grass towards a chestnut horse, a sliver of white fur diving deep between her eyes.
She slowly thumps over, huge hooves sinking deep into the soft dirt. Her long tail swishing, navy rug wrapped around her midriff. She docks at the gate, puffing a heavy breath – hot, thick clouds shooting from each nostril.
“Hi,” you say quietly, lifting a floppy-gloved hand for her to sniff. “Joel?” you say again, glancing down at her swollen belly, the low droop of the rug. “I think she might be pregnant.”
She tosses her head up, ears flicking, and nuzzles into the soft material of Joel’s glove. You feel her wrinkled muzzle, the strong, solid bridge of her nose. She blinks slowly; huge, deep brown eyes twinkling in the late-morning light, and you swear she’s trying to communicate something to you.
“Hey, girl,” Joel says, running a careful hand down her mane.
The horse sighs serenely, eyes flitting between the two of you. Her nostrils flare gently, light brown lashes fluttering. You tilt your head, stroking her and letting her teeth graze the sleeve of your jacket. Her bulky head turns to-and-fro, glancing up and down the trail you’re stood on, contently waiting for the passage of time. Enjoying her view from the misty field before it all changes again.
Unexpected and unwelcome, the absence of compression in your chest suddenly makes itself known. Dread spills into your lungs, thick like tar. You turn on your heel and cast Joel one fleeting glance.
He catches it, and without missing a beat, asks, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Is that okay?”
“’s more ‘n okay, baby. You did so good today. Didn’t she?” he asks the horse, who huffs another hot breath. Joel tosses a thumb towards her. “See?”
You step back over to the animal, now preparing to wander back on home, and give her one last tender stroke. She blinks twice, tosses her head a final time, and her broad body turns, thudding off back up the slope.
As he links your arms again, Joel blinks down at you, the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.
“What?” you ask, shyly.
“Look at you,” he says, nudging your shoulder with a glint in his eye. “You’re smilin’.”
Autumn flashes by as Joel drives you home – ginger and bronze and honey and cinnamon blurring into one as you pass them by. You settle back against the headrest, moving with the sway of the truck, your tired fingers tracing blind shapes on Joel’s palm.
Nature is burning. Perhaps dying is too harsh a term. Burning in preparation for the winter, when it will lay dormant and restful. Quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your feet. Bland, save for the sparkle of frost on your windowpanes. The droplets of beauty laced through, the little reminders that not all has been lost.
I am burning right now, the earth says, but wait until you see what I can become.
The days will turn to night. The sun will tear the sky to tatters, set the whole thing fucking ablaze, go down in a battle stained in red and orange and deep, dark blue – and she will still return, spilling golden all over the horizon. She always does.
The clouds will cover overhead, dampening the color on earth. The blues will fade to gray, the yellows will undoubtedly pale. And then the sky will clear, when it is ready; the clouds will break in two to let a ribbon of cerulean burst through.
The leaves will fall to the ground and feed the soil; new ones will sprout from buds left in their wake. The ground will thaw, will soften again in time to welcome the push of daisies and burst of heather. The horse will foal, the birds will sing to their babies, the buzz of insects will irritate your ears; the rivers will gush and the trees will sway and you will be okay again.
You will be okay again.
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kisses4kaia · 1 year
Note
Charlie walker x reader smut where he’s very subby and unexpirienced
thank you 🧎🏻‍♀️
a/n; omgomg absolutely r u kidding me rn ? fem reader. obvi 17+ and intended for mature audiences .
movie night 💿 - c, walker ,,
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it's crazy what an innocent movie night at kirby's can end up as.
you and charlie sat in opposite corners of the spacious living room, watching stab III (per charlie's insistence). it had just started and you were already bored. the movie wasn't bad, per se, you had just seen it so many times before.
and well, you had always found charlie walker more interesting.
you'd always thought of him as attractive, having spent many a night with your fingers deep inside of you, imagining they were his, imagining what he would sound like, whimpering for you and your touch.
you knew he felt the same, if not, similar, about you. from the way he insisted on walking up the stairs after you (iykyk), to the untrackable count of times you've caught him eyeing you up and down, as though he was praying he would be gifted by the gods with x-ray vision.
but every time you got too close, he'd shut it down with a friendly remark. every. damn. time.
"that's actually really nice of you, thanks y/n,"
"haha, you don't mean that. funny, though."
"i think you look pretty nice, too,"
it drove you crazy, just how oblivious he was to your advances. the way the tv screen lit up his blown pupils, fascinated as he watched one of his favorite movies for probably the 1,000th time, made you bite your lip to contain the anything-but-holy thoughts ravaging your mind.
you were tired of sitting around, doing nothing about this ever-growing crush.
whilst everybody had their eyes glued to the screen, watching some girl get chased through her home, you pulled out your small iphone and clicked on charlie's contact. you had to do something he couldn't ignore, something he couldn't look over.
you clicked on the option to attach a photo to the text message. you scrolled through your camera roll until you found it.
the photo was of you, in your bedroom, in your mirror, seemingly trying on lacy, dark purple, lingerie. there was no shot he was taking this with friendly intentions.
you to charlieee <33 : *(1) attachment*
you waited a few moments before texting him again
you to charlieee <33 : oops, wrong person . sry. 😊
you watched as he reached for his back pocket at the sound of a notification.
and how his face, once painted with curiosity, twisted into shock, sights forced on the device. you had to bite back a smirk as he looked up at you.
you pretended that you were watching the movie and gave no attention to the boy whose pants were getting tighter by the second.
he cleared his throat before settling back on the couch, typing out a reply.
charlie to y/n🤩 : it's okay haha
charlie to y/n🤩 : do you mind me asking who that was meant for?
you to charlieee <33 : why does that matter 2 u?
charlie to y/n🤩 : i just want to know if you're seeing someone, or if it was for jill or kirby, yk?
charlie to y/n🤩 : not that i care if you're seeing someone!! that's really one of my business, forget i said anything
you to charlieee <33 : lmao but char, its ok if u do
charlie to y/n🤩 : what do you mean by that?
you to charlieee <33 : follow me and find out ;)
you casually got up and exited the living room, successfully not turning any heads. you found the guest bathroom and entered.
it was actually very nice, the lights were bright and luminescent, and the shower, sink, and toilet were spotless.
you waited a few minutes, sitting on the sink counter, before the door opened, revealing the one and only.
"what took you so long?" you teased flashing a smile. "i was debating whether or not i actually wanted this, well i do want this, very much so, but i was just-" he was rambling.
"well, you're here now, aren't you, charlie?" you slightly whispered before pulling him towards you by his shirt, settling in between your legs.
he was stiff as a board, he didn't know what he could do. you noticed this and grabbed his hands from his sides and placed them lowly on your waist.
you placed your arms around his neck very lazily. "you want this?" you looked into his eyes, which were dazed and hazy, seemingly drowning in dopamine.
he nodded. "mhm, yeah," he was breathless, becoming so impatient, needing to feel your lips on his.
you chuckled softly to yourself before finally giving the boy what he wanted. the kiss started out slow but heated up quickly as you started to tangle your fingers in his hair.
you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip and his mouth fell open easily, allowing it in.
charlie gripped your hips tightly. "easy, tiger. i'm not going anywhere," you pulled away slightly to say. this did not make him let up. there were surely going to be bruises in the place of his hands by tomorrow.
you began kissing down his jaw and neck, exploring and searching for a sweet spot. he whimpered particularly needily at one area on his collarbone and you attacked it.
he began running his hands up and down your sides, underneath your shirt. you translated his wandering hands and helped throw your top off. he tried, truly, to keep his eyes on your face and not on your chest but how could he? <33
"so, so, so beautiful," he whispered, leaning down slightly to knead your covered breasts. "too many clothes, baby. take 'em off for me, hm?" you more told him than asked.
like the good boy he wanted to be for you, charlie was quick to remove every garment on his body, save for his boxers.
you pulled your miniskirt off and were left in a laced, pale pinky-shade of matching bra and panties.
he took a small step back and stared at you intensely, like he wanted to say something. "spit it out, char." you almost scolded him.
"i-it's just, um, i've n-never done anything like this... before..." he looked down as though it was a shameful thing.
you smiled at his tenderness. "c'mere, love," you quietly uttered before pulling him in between your legs once again. you felt his hard length pressed against your middle but ignored the euphoria to focus on what mattered.
"look at me, char. that does not make me want you any less, it's actually kinda cute. listen, i'll guide you through it, if you wish to continue, that is. if you don't, we can get dressed and leave like nothing happened. what do you want to do, baby?" you reassured him as he stared into your eyes thoughtfully.
"i wanna keep going," he breathed out. "good," you hummed, drawing his lips to yours again. you hopped off of the counter, forcing your lips apart by the sheer height difference between you two.
you pushed him against the bathroom door and lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him. "w-what are you doing?!" he panicked slightly. "i'm gonna take real good care of you, m'kay, love? now, be a good boy for me and relax," you purred, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs.
the pet name turned his stomach and made him slip a small whimper. he unfroze his muscles and relaxed, per your request.
you kept your doe eyes on the flushed boy's face as your pulled his boxers down, making his dick spring out, hitting his stomach.
you tore your eyes from his face and focused your attention on his member.
he was big, huge. his slit crying with precum and veins ran up and down the length of it. your wide eyes softened when you heard a needy whine coming from the man above you.
you decided he's waited long enough, so you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. the moan/groan he let out, made you smile, and lock eyes with charlie once again.
"fuck, feels good," he said through half-lidded eyes as you began to suck on his angry, red, tip.
"so vulgar. bad boy," you teased with a grin. the sight of you beneath him, on your knees, a smile bigger than the whole sky plastered across your face as his dick leaned against your chin, could've caused him to release a load on your pretty face right there.
but he didn't. he wanted, needed, to be your good, good, boy <3.
"mmm, no. i'm good, i'm so good, only for you. just for you, mommy," the name merely slipped out, he swore, but it caused you to moan whilst his dick was down your throat, causing a very pleasurable vibration around his cock, causing him to involuntarily cum down your throat.
"sh-shit, 'm sorry," he was quick to apologize for cumming so quickly as you pull your jaw off of him. "say that again," you demanded with a scratchy voice, but needier undertones were detected. "w-what, i'm sorry?"
"no, before that,"
"m-mommy?" charlie squeaked.
"fuck."
from the cold tiles biting at the skin of your knees to shimmying off your panties and sitting back down on the counter, you knew you needed him, all of him. right here, right now.
this time, you didn't have to pull him toward you, he naturally gravitated to the comfort of the in-between of your plush thighs. "wanna fuck me? huh?" you asked, grabbing his cock and sliding the tip up and down your folds.
"more than anything, mommy," he whimpered, dreamily. "fuck, baby," you whined as you guided him inside of you.
the stretch was almost impossible. you both moan in synchrony. the tightness of your walls was far better than charlie could've ever imagined when he pumped his fist up and down his length on lonely nights.
"oh my god, momma. i've dreamed and dreamed about this," he whispered in your ear after you gave him the go-ahead to move. his thrusts started out slow and tame but sped up quickly.
the hold he had on your thighs was mighty as he chased his high. "gimme your hand," you managed to speak through the ecstasy. "w-why?" he slowed down, only slightly.
"just- just give it to me," you gasped as his tip pushed against your g-spot. he lifted his left hand and put it in your right.
you shaped it into a 'thumbs up' stance and moved in down onto your clit. "draw circles," you told him. he picked it up quickly and continued fucking you.
your nailed fingers tugged and pulled at his hair, making him into a moaning, whimpering, mess. "shit, fuck! i can't go for much longer. can i please do it inside? please, please, please, mommy?" he begged and you nodded. "i'm on the pill, doll. go ahead, fill me up." you couldn't say no to his beautiful, fucked out, face.
a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt and soon, he had you loaded. he stared down at his cock going in and out of you, lubed by his sperm, and he could've came again at the sight.
it wasn't too long after that you felt your own earth-shattering release, clinging onto the broad shoulders of the man above you. it rippled through you like an ocean current.
you stayed intertwined with each other for a few more moments, catching your breath, before charlie spoke.
"if my calculations are correct, roman bridgers should be getting revealed as ghostface right now."
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heartfullofleeches · 3 months
Text
Happy Birthday, C.C!
(And a happy belated Valentine's day. One holiday is a bit more important to me than the other. Gotta celebrate my favorite incubus's day or he may cut me. Reader is brief mentioned to be wearing lingerie, but there really isn't anything that suggestive in this fic- Enjoy!)
-
When asked what he wanted for his birthday, C.C gave the same answer nearly every year.
"Why would I want anything when I already have everything I need?.... A new pair of shoes would be nice, but I'm really not that picky about what I get."
A successful career, the funds to purchase whatever trivial possession he desired. If he hadn't found fame and fortune early on in his life on earth, C.C would have been more than happy to mooch off of the desperate, lonely humans who'd do give him just about anything for a crumble of his attention. A short while ago, the only presents that mattered were what he received from the select few in his family he deemed worth the title, but something that has changed recently - another person entering his life who he puts on the same pedestal as the blood he holds dear if not higher.
If there was one thing C.C didn't want for his birthday - it was waking up in an empty bed all by himself.
Reaching an arm over your side of the bed, the drowsy demon is rudely dragged from his sleep as he finds no one there next to him. It's funny to think that a year prior he would have had no problem with this. Now, his heart sinks every time there's no one at his side. You're cruel for making him so dependent on you like this - and not being beside him on his big day.
C.C grumbles something under his breath - stumbling out of bed, making a grab for his phone on the nightstand as he exits the room. The second he turns it on, he's bombarded with hundreds of birthday wishes from friends and fans across several social media accounts. C.C swipes them all away, only bother to read any of the notifications in case he misses a message from you saying you're out. Why you'd leave without him is beyond him, but it was the best his groggy mind could come up with. Turning the corner that leads to the living room, a sea of curses sound from the kitchen muffled by running water.
"Shit, shit, shit- Fuck, why won't it come off?!"
C.C would recognize that voice anywhere. He scurries into the kitchen - biting back a laugh at your unfortunate state of appearance. There you stood over the sink, frantically scrubbing at your palms with a sponge. It was all over your hands, the robe you wore, even your face - pink stains that stubbornly refused to come out no matter how hard you tried. On the counter behind you was a bowl filled with a pinkish mixture - a bottle of red food dye still mixing its top and covered in red fingerprints seating beside it. C.C creeps over while you're distracted and sticks his fingers in the batter.
It's pancake mix.
"Mmm... I think all that dye is supposed to be in the bowl, babe."
Startled by the voice behind you, the sponge hits the bottom of the sink with a wet splat as you look behind you - hands quick at fixing your robes over scantily dressed body. "C.C? You're awake?! You're usually not up til noon - I thought I had more time.... Happy Birthday!"
The more attempt to hide it, the more C.C notices parts of your skimpy attire beneath the robe he had got you on your own special day. C.C loved to see you in his favorite color, but the bright pink fabric lessened the nearly see through aspect of your underwear and top in this lighting. The stockings you wore made up for it well enough - another accessories he loved to see on you that he made sure to voice many times before.
C.C gathers some of the paper towels on the counter. "Well I see you were at least trying to make breakfast - or get readying for Halloween a few months in advance. Sexy vampire is always a nice look."
"The seal just wouldn't come off and when it finally did it spilled all over me... I'm sorry for messing breakfast."
"Hush." C.C pulls you in close, wetness bleeding through his shirt as he embraces you, but he doesn't seem to mind. "We still have everything we need. I'll help you finish up and then we can take a shower together and spend the day in bed. You didn't put that outfit on just for show, did you?~"
"No, it was actually meant to be your Valentine's gift but.... I still haven't gotten your birthday present yet. I was going to take you to the mall and let you decide since there's so many things you like..."
C.C holds you tighter - grinning from ear to ear as he looks over your shoulder at all you've done for him. 'Don't worry.... I have everything I want right here."
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yourlocalstranger123 · 10 months
Note
Head empty.....sub brat kafka and sub good girl himeko
Kafka is the brat in the relationship who always shows off for you and always finds new ways to push your buttons
"What if i don't?"
"Was i not supposed to wear this today.....my bad~"
"Then why don't you come and make me"
So its no surprise when she goes from brat to whining puppy when you have her pinned under you and getting fucked stupid with a vibrator up her ass and your hands around her throat you'd think she'd learn her lesson only to do it again the next day
"is that ah~ all you've got AGH! FUCK ME DADDY/MOMMY I'LL BE GOOD JUST GO HARDER!!!"
"That's right spank me nice and rough AH~ put me in my fucking place AH~ make my ass red~ AH~ I just came from being spanked~ waves her ass teasingly I'm such a bad girl~
"i-im sorry daddy/mommy~ Ah~ i can't cum anymore~"
Meanwhile himeko is an absolute sweetheart and good girl always follows orders, wears what you tell her too wear (even goes commando if you tell her to but she demands cuddles as payment)
"Can i wear this today, i bought it for you in mind"
"Do you want me to give you a massage baby? you look tense"
"This skirt is a little short....okay but only for you"
She's so cute when you fuck her, letting out gasps and small whines at every kiss along her neck, teasing her nipples with your tounge and teeth just to make her squirm, the way she cutely begs you to eat her out everytime before you fuck her because she loves being overstimulated by your cock/strap, whimpering and moaning while calling you daddy/mommy the whole time and saying how good you make her feel desperate to be praised by you~
"Ah~ yes like thaaah~ Daddy/Mommy"
"Your tounge is so deep~ mmmm~ please put your cock/strap in Ah~ fuck me till i cry"
"Does daddy/mommy like when i ride your fat cock/strap Ah~ i take it nice and deep cause I'm a good girl, please call me a good girl again~"
And when you have both of them in bed it's unreal these two beautiful women begging you to fuck them till they break while you plow Kafka's insides and punish her himeko is right there riding your fingers while kissing your neck and encouraging you as she watches the bratty stellaron hunter get pounded by their shared lover
"Oh yeah daddy/mommy fuck her nice and hard mmmmm~ kisses your neck before slapping Kafka's breasts making her moan break that little brat then break me~
"Watching you pound himeko from behind oooh what's wrong himeko didn't you want daddy/mommy to break you like they did me~ leans back opens her legs now be a good girl and put that mouth to use daddy/mommy loves watching you work AH~ good girl~"
You don't know how you got these beautiful women to love you but your definitely not complaining
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Im....speechless, LIKE WOW. I love this though.
Another scenario; Kafka being a brat once again, but this time, she drags good girl himeko into her troubles! Himeko wants to be your good girl so badly but you haven't fucked her for a whole month :(.
While you were in your office, doing some papers and reports until you got a notification. Seems it's from Kafka. Wonder what she sended you? You see a video of Himeko slightly shivering, slightly sobbing onto Kafka shoulders as they both ride a dilido.
Hearing Himeko saying light sorry's as Kafka said; "see you at home darling~♡"
And when you finally get home, as your jacket slightly slipping off, hair ruffled and panting when you opened the door. You put the jacket down, locking the door as you went to the bedroom. Hearing moans, and some whining.
A sight greets you of himeko begging for forgiveness, as Kafka shudders in excitement of what you'll do. (Oops. Got a little too far but love this and the art!)
I might use your art, so can I? I
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mellifiedprincess · 4 months
Note
hi!! could you do a fluffy fic with matt where the reader is just having a rough week mentally and is overwhelmed and stops by matt’s unannounced and they cuddle and he offers to talk through things with her
hope you like it angel <3
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You could see the lights on in the living room through the balcony window. Staring up at it, still sitting in your car. You’ve been staring at it for a good 10 minutes now, not really sure if you should get out or not.
You knew the boys wouldn’t care one bit that you showed up without sending a text. You knew there wouldn’t be anything but concern in the eyes of your boyfriend and his two brothers.
Yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to get out of your car and knock on their door.
Another 5 minutes pass and you finally bring yourself to make the trek to the front door. The wood feels cool against the heat of your knuckles as you knock. You’re not really sure if anyone could even hear the soft taps from inside.
Chris does though. As he opens the door, you see a look of surprise on his face for a few seconds before he kindly smiles at you. He was always happy to see one of his best and closest friends. But then he sees the defeated look on your face. “Matt’s in his room. I’m here too if you need me to be.” The kind words of Chris almost breaks the dam that you’ve been trying so hard to keep patched up.
“Thanks Chrissy.” You simply say before giving him a hug and making your way up the stairs, needing the comforting embrace of Matt more than anything right now.
When you finally make it to Matt’s door, you can hear the soft clicks of his keyboard.
Closing your eyes to gather yourself, you open his door and see the soft curls of the boy you’ve been longing for, sat at his desk. His headphones sit on his ears as he continues to type away, probably answering emails for brand deals and whatnot. His eyes meet yours as he takes notice to his door being open, and once again you see a look of surprise.
He quickly removes the headphones, and checks his phone to see if he missed any calls or texts from you. When he sees no new notifications he places it back down.
“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is soft and calm, because he could already tell, just by the way you walked in, you were slowly breaking down. “Come here.” He reaches his hand out for yours and pulls you down into his lap as soon as you grab onto it.
You’re silent, not sure where to start, so you blankly stare into his eyes. Eyes that stare back at you with a look of worry and concern.
“I-um.” You clear your throat, trying to vacate the emotions bubbling in your chest. Tears threatening to spill over your waterline as you look at your boyfriend’s sweet face.
“Hey, take your time angel. I’m not going anywhere.” Matt’s thumb moves to swipe along your cheek, his worry only growing more at the stress his girlfriend is clearly under.
He knew she was overwhelmed by everything going on in her life right now. Her new job, in the middle of her last year of college, being away from her friends and family. “You wanna just sit here while I finish these few emails? Then we can lay in bed and talk.”
“That sounds nice.” You answer in a small voice, smiling gratefully at the sweetheart that is your boyfriend.
After the last email is answered, Matt stands with you still in his arms and carries to you his bed.
“I’ll be right back.” He quickly kisses your lips, and turns to exit his bedroom, leaving you to your racing thoughts.
And it felt like hours. It was only 10 minutes.
When he finally makes his return, he’s carrying a cup of something steaming and a bowl of ice cream, that looks like it could rival mount everest.
“One cup of hot chocolate for my sweetheart.” He states as he hands you a baby pink mug adorned with tiny white daisies. “Sorry it took so long. I had to fight Nick for the ice cream.”
“I can see who won. Did you even leave any for him?” You softly laugh and see a smile creep its way onto Matt’s face. An unexplainable amount of happiness fluttering in his chest at the sound of your giggles.
“Moving on.” He quickly places his bowl of ice cream down, before climbing into bed beside you. Wasting no time on wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to rest flush against his side. “Wanna watch Tangled?”
“Yes please!” You reply and take a sip of the hot chocolate, all of your worries starting to melt away.
Matt looks down as you let out a long sigh, not sure if you were okay or not. It was a sigh of contentment though, because it didn’t matter how horribly your day could have gone, Matt knew exactly what you needed. Always.
“Hey. I love you sweetheart.” He whispers quietly and places a kiss to your hairline, as he watches your eyes slightly squeeze shut.
“I love you too.”
Your body melts into his side as the sounds of Tangled begin to play, and soon your mind just shuts off completely. All thanks to the wonderful human that you get to call yours.
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oh-katsuki · 7 months
Text
your cup of espresso sits untouched and cooling on the dinner table. you have it after dinner every night, one sugar cube evenly dissolved through the mixture, giving it an almost syrupy flavor that is lovely to sip. it's bitter, but the right kind of bitter, and somehow so impossibly sweet. a perfect finish to the day.
the black screen of your phone sits unobtrusively beside your wrist. you pick it up idly, illuminating it with a quick tap of your finger. a few new notifications, instagram, snapchat, texts, twitter notifications you don't care about. nothing really all too pressing.
you tap to open up your contacts, scrolling and coming to a stop at his name. gojo satoru with a little red heart beside it.
at first, you only tap on it to look. it's not really like you had any plan to text or ring him. you just wanted to look at his contact card, maybe stare for a few minutes at the smiling, half ugly photo of him set as his contact picture. you're in the background of it, grabbing his upper arm to get his attention. it's a photo from a work meetup and nanami took it. somehow, it's come to mean a lot more to you than just a contact photo. you sigh, contemplating the phone call and then, without much fanfare, you click the button.
it rings in your ear as you put it up to the side of your head. your heart pounds in your chest, waiting for the ringing to come to a stop, maybe to hear his voice. it's been a long while since he's answered your calls though and you let out a humorless laugh as his voicemail plays.
"hey, you've reached gojo satoru. sorry i missed your call, i'm just soooo busy—" someone interrupts him, "hey can't you see im recording my voicemail message?" there's a small noise and then he's back, closer now. "—anyway, leave a message at the beep and maybe i'll call you back."
he'd set it in high school and his voice is a familiar and delightful higher pitch. you'd always told him that he needed to change it to something more mature, but he'd always blink at you and give you the same answer.
"who the hell would be calling me?" he'd say. "think i'm applying for another job or something?"
and you could never really argue with it. sure, you could've told him that it was immature, but at the end of the day he was right. it's not like he'd ever planned to change professions and professional conduct meant fuck-all when he was the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.
"hey," you start, clearing your throat, "it's me again. i don't know why i thought you'd actually answer my call this time, just sort of felt like you would. it was nice to hear your voice though, even if it was your voicemail message."
you run your finger along the grain in the wood of your table, tracing its intricate pattern with a light touch.
"i made that strawberry shortcake thing today." you're not really sure why you're telling him that. "you know, the one with the cream instead of frosting. it was good, kinda hard to make the actual cake though. the house smells good now. but yeah, i had a day off for once so i just sort of... hung around." you can feel your bottom lip growing raw with the way you chew on it between sentences. there's not really a reason that you called him. nothing particularly interesting has happened to you, let alone anything he'd care about, but you just felt like talking. still do, even if it's to his voicemail box, and you continue speaking into it about your day.
you like to think he couldn't be bothered to answer the phone. lazy, in some way, to answer your needy call. you like to think that maybe he'd seen the call, his phone ringing on the counter, from where he was in the shower. he'll listen to your voicemail and call you when he's out and dry to ask about trying the cake, maybe.
"would have been nice to see you. it's been like... two months since we've met up. i know you're probably busy though. doing whatever it is you do on the weekend, not that i really know anymore."
the kitchen light suddenly seems too bright, casting its artificial yellow glow down on the center of your table. you reach up to rub your temples. there's a dull throb beginning behind your eyes and in the bridge of your nose. it's almost like you're about to cry and as you sniffle quietly into the receiver, you can feel the swell of emotions as it rises in you.
"i really miss you, satoru," you say with a defeated sigh. "i know i probably sound like a broken record and that your phone storage must really be taking a hit, but i do. you probably get a kick out of knowing that though," the laugh that comes from you is muddled as your nose begins to run, and you reach quickly to wipe it. "wish you'd call me back. or come home, maybe. it's funny, i keep thinking that you'll come in the door any minute and the feeling never really... stops."
you clear your throat again, putting your tongue in your cheek and steeling your nerves a little.
"well, i'll let you go now," you swallow, laughing a little like the statement is silly. he's not really on the phone. it doesn't matter all that much how long the voicemail is. "stop before the voicemail lady cuts me off. but yeah, i just wanted to call. i keep hoping that you'll pick up. who knows, right?"
there's a short pause and then you inhale, straightening your back.
"i love you," you say. "always have. i'll call you tomorrow too, so... yeah. i love you, satoru. bye."
you pull your phone away from the side of your face, clicking the end call button a little too quickly before putting it face down on the table. it's comforting to call him, but it hurts too. there's always the hope that he'll answer. that by some miraculous turn of events, the ringing will stop short and he'll draw out a hello in a pleasant tenor hum. of course, he'd know exactly who's calling. satoru always did.
maybe you'll pay him a visit tomorrow, say all of this directly to him, though you haven't had the courage yet to visit that little stone plaque. it's a little too hard, for now. it's easier to think that he's ignoring your calls than incapable of answering them all together.
someday, his voicemail will fill up and you'll have to confront the truth. it will fill up, you'll be greeted by the voice mailbox full message, and there will be no one on the other end to clear it.
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ladamedusoif · 10 months
Text
My Kiss, Only For You
The Thief x Museum Guide F!Reader - One Shot
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Pairing: The Thief x Museum Guide F!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)
Content/warnings: oral (f receiving); theft (I mean, obviously); smut; did I mention theft; strong language
Summary: You've noticed a regular attendee on the guided tours you offer as part of your job at the museum - and one day, he decides to ask you for more information on a favourite exhibit.
Notes: I keep on getting sent to horny jail by @lunapascal and @julesonrecord. (P would be very disappointed in you two insisting on incarcerating me all the time.)
This time, for reasons I'm still not entirely sure about, I was sentenced to 'double jail' and have two punishment pieces to write to get myself free. This first one, chosen by @julesonrecord, involves The Thief (from the wine ads) and the prompt "stealing a kiss".
Please enjoy my first foray into writing smut about a (very sexy) man from an ad campaign.
I wrote this at like, 1am and am still worried there are sections I thought I wrote but that were actually happening in a dream. Bear that in mind as you read.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“And we finish with the jewel - if you’ll permit me a little pun - of the collection, the remarkable Katarzyna’s Kiss ruby.”
The afternoon’s tour group is mostly teenagers on a school trip, and they couldn’t be less interested in the bright red gemstone illuminated in the case behind you if they tried. One of them lazily lifts their phone to snap a photo, apparently of the display. It’s only when you see them pouting for a selfie that you realise they’ve had a BeReal notification.
You keep going with the standard tour script, putting your heart into it as always. You notice a familiar face at the back of the group, listening attentively: a handsome, dark-eyed man you guess must be in his mid to late forties, who is a regular attendee of your tours in the museum. He seems to be particularly interested in the gemstones and jewellery collections, always turning up for those tours with a notebook and a random, specialist text on the subject. 
“The story behind this gemstone and its unusual name is that a seventeenth-century Polish princess supposedly fell in love with the apprentice to the court jeweller. Now, as you can imagine, in those days an apprentice jeweller would never be considered an appropriate match for a princess, and their love was doomed from the start.”
The handsome man smiles at you, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. You offer a little smile in return, noticing how the museum lighting catches the attractive patches of grey in his sparse beard.
“The poor young apprentice had never kissed his princess, and not because he didn’t want to - they were afraid they would be caught in the carefully-monitored world of the court.” Your expression turns sad as you move to the next part. 
“One day, the young jeweller heard that his beloved was to be married - the next day, in fact. He was distraught. But when the princess woke on her wedding day, equally heartbroken, she found this ruby - so the story goes - in a gorgeous, handmade silver box, engraved with the words ‘My kiss, only for you’”.
One of the teenagers at the front yawns dramatically, setting the others off into fits of giggles. You sigh. “And that brings our tour to an end, I guess. Gift shop that way, toilets over there, if you want to find out more about the collections you can purchase a guidebook…”
Your voice trails as the group rapidly disperses. Only your handsome regular is left. You hadn’t noticed before how nicely dressed he is - not showy, not in the least, but his clothes have that unmistakable air of quality and expense. Today he’s wearing a dark green, beautifully cut casual jacket with a Nehru collar, combined with dark jeans and a pristine white grandfather shirt. 
“Thank you for a wonderful tour, as usual.” His voice is warm and low, a pleasing sound in the near-empty gallery. 
“Thank you,” you return the compliment. “You’re one of our regulars, aren’t you?”
He pushes his glasses up his nose and nods. You notice he’s holding a small green notebook in one hand, and a pen in the other. “I must admit, though, that I prefer to go on your tours. You are a natural - truly, a joy to listen to. So knowledgeable!” He turns and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “And, if you’ll forgive me for being forward, even lovelier to look at than Katarzyna’s Kiss.”
You raise your eyebrows. The closest thing to flirting you’d experienced in your time as a guide was when elderly men would corner you near the military history displays and wax lyrical at you about nineteenth-century battleships.
The man has moved closer, now, to you and to the display case. He appraises the ruby at close range. “I’d like to talk to you a little more about this beautiful thing - I’m fascinated by the story.” He turns and looks at you over the top of his glasses. “Would dinner tonight be a good time to talk about this kiss?”
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To your surprise, he’d booked a table at the fanciest restaurant in the city. Dinner had been a delight, swapping stories of rare jewels and favourite galleries and museums around the world. 
He had changed since this afternoon, and arrived dressed in an exquisite green and black check suit with a black shirt and tie. He was attractive, there was no way around it - but you preferred to keep your guard up a little longer.
You were about to order a cab when you realised you didn’t have your phone.
“Shit. I must have left it in the office.” 
“It’s not too far away, is it?” He is the picture of concern. “I’ll gladly accompany you back to the museum.”
So he does, offering you his arm at one point like a man in an old movie. You huff a laugh at the gesture until you realise he’s serious. 
“Oh, god. I’m sorry.”
He keeps his arm out, offered to you, and smiles at you with an eyebrow raised. “Chivalry isn’t quite dead yet, ma chérie.”
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Maybe it’s the sneaking into the museum after hours, with its connotations of illicit shenanigans, maybe it’s the whiskey you had after dinner, or maybe it’s just the way his suit sits so perfectly over his broad frame, as if it’s begging to be touched and clung to. 
Whatever it is, you’ve barely entered your small office when you’re pushing him against the wall and kissing him like your life depends on it. He groans into your mouth and it goes straight to your pussy. 
He guides you back onto the desk and sits you on the edge, lowering you down carefully as he stands above you. He trails a long, thick finger across the neckline of your dress, slipping his fingertip under the fabric to trace the outline of your breasts.
You whine in pleasure and frustration as he kisses your body. 
“Tell me more about Katarzyna’s Kiss, beautiful. Do you believe the story?”
He keeps kissing as you talk, through the fabric of your dress down to your thighs, where he hitches up the skirt and encourages you to open your legs a little wider. You moan as you feel his fingers tracing up the inside of your thighs.
“I want to kiss you, mi amor, but I will only do so if you say the word.”
You nod frantically, all thoughts of the bright red ruby forgotten. 
He brings his torso down to meet yours, placing a soft, wet kiss to your lips. You hear the zipper of his pants come down and you know that he has taken his cock in his hand. With the other, he reaches past the top of your head, stretching his hand out along the desk and resting his fingers on the marass of papers and, you judge by the clicks going on behind you, your computer keyboard.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me again?” Your voice is heavy, confused. He’s kept one hand behind you, still resting on the keyboard, as he intersperses caressing and kissing your breasts with giving his cock a quick stroke.
“I am, chérie, be patient. The kiss I plan to steal now is more valuable than any ruby - tastes better, too.”
He drops to his knees and pulls your legs apart, dragging your panties down over your soft thighs and knees. He begins by literally kissing your cunt, placing soft, delicate kisses to the wet folds before his broad tongue strokes its way from your opening all the way to your clit. It elicits a muffled scream from you.
“You can’t be there already, beautiful thing.” You aren’t, but the way he’s ‘kissing’ your pussy, then driving his fingers inside you, is getting you very close.
When he begins to suck your clit you feel the pressure building, and soon your slick is coating his perfect nose, his mouth, his face - and his beard. It glistens in the soft light of your desk lamp. 
“Fuck me,” you murmur quietly. 
“Not tonight, dear one,” he says as he returns to standing, zipping back up his pants. “Stay put, I’ll get something to clean you up. Where are the bathrooms?”
You point him towards them, unable to stand up just yet. He’s made you feel completely boneless, fucked out with just his mouth and fingers on your own desk. It had been a while since anyone made you come at all, let alone like that.
You realise you don’t even know his name.
And soon, you realise he’s been gone a rather long time.
The museum’s back corridors are unsettling at night. You wander up and down, calling quietly into the darkness to see if you can find him.
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The wail of the siren is deafening as you race back to your office, frantically trying to log back in to check where the alarm has been triggered. You try to contact the night security team, but there’s no response. The screen eventually lights up and you see it: the Kiss ruby. That’s what they’re after.
Security arrives in the exhibition gallery a few minutes after you, leaving it to you to reveal the carefully opened case and the empty plastic clasp that once held the ruby on display.
Where was he? Did he get stuck in part of the building and panic when the alarm went off?
You reach into your pocket to find your phone before you remember you don’t even have his number. 
You find a crisp, folded piece of paper in your dress pocket. It had definitely not been there earlier.
You sneak off behind another display to open the note, before police arrived to question you. The handwriting is fanciful, rendered in pen and ink:
I have helped myself to Katarzyna’s, I’m afraid, but remember that the kiss I gave you tonight - my kiss - is only for you.
Adieu, chérie!
Your Gentleman Thief
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dollfaced-erin · 10 months
Text
𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)
PART 6
PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5
taglist :
@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu
P/s : to those who req to be on the taglist but didn't get their notifications, please check your privacy settings !! i cant seem to find youu :((
A/n :
there was a little more i wanted to put into this chapter for a sweet ending, but was a little too long. So i'll make the next chapter extra romantic hehe !! And i should be preparing a special chapter soon for all the support ! So, shall i write a modern AU themed with this fanfic ??
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"So, was that the girl of your dreams ? Looks pretty young to me." a magenta haired woman laughed as her colleague returned to reunite with her at their rendezvous.
"Is she another one of those...Vidyadharas ? The long-lived Xianzhou natives ? My, its rare to see them with horns." Kafka said, leaning against an empty container.
"She's special." her companion answered shortly, looking down at his cracked sword in hand. A sword that was once wield by a master of ice arts, speed and strength so accurate, said friend could cut through time itself.
"Yeah, I bet she means a lot to you. You keep on dreaming about her. Dan Jia, was it ?" Kafka asked, and Blade shook his head.
"No. She goes by the name (Y/n) now." Blade answered simply yet once again.
(Y/n)...he didn't remember much of who that woman was in the past. But he could recall some significant details that calmed his nightmares as he slumbered.
Every time he had nightmares, nights Kafka was too far away to quell, he would recall a certain woman in his dreams. How she would dance her heart away. How her steps were as light as a feather.
She would dance, her clothes rippling along as she danced beneath the moonlight elegantly, a simple glass fan in her hands that shone beneath the gaze of the moon. She would sing and hum, her sweet and melodious voice forever guiding him back to light when days were dark.
He wondered what happened to all the fans he had created for her...? The last one he remembered was the crystal fan in her hands which she had kept on her person the most.
He remembered forging and learning glass art and crystals just to see those (e/c) eyes of hers light up in delight. The days and nights he sacrificed and burned his hands. The hours that passed as he learned day by day how to shape it nicely, how to add details, how to blow glass.
(Y/n) had always been fond of the moon. She loved glassy and clear items, hence why he had created so many small accessories for her in hopes of them being insignificant enough to the eye to escape her brother's protective gaze.
All to see those little accessories on his beloved.
The change of name...from Dan Jia to (Y/n) wasn't much of a shock to him. Nor did he try to deny that it was her name. No, it wasn't because she was the same person.
That woman named Dan Jia...had died. Long...long ago. But was so vivid in his memories.
On the battlefield years ago. Her limp and bloodied body strewn across the ground, her heart missing from her chest.
For some reason, that name (Y/n), with that same face, didn't bother him as much as another person's change in identity did. He wondered why.
He snapped out of it and looked at his colleague. "Let's go, Kafka."
"After you, Bladie. Don't worry, you'll see her again. It's all part of the script."
"I'd rather her not witness the monster I've become."
"Hm...just in case if you want to go see her again, you can go tomorrow night, just to check if she's there." Kafka shrugged, walking off with her colleague trailing behind her.
And the heart in his chest...felt like it was burning alive. It felt as if...dragon claws were being dug into it, in a comforting way. As if to show reassurance. As if...it had met its true owner.
After Blade had left, (Y/n) fell to the ground, wiping away her tears. Her heart hurt. No, her chest felt empty. As if it were missing something...
She didn't remember anything and she felt so lost...so helpless.
But that man...he was warm. He was kind. Contrasting the fact that he was a wanted criminal, contrasting the fact that he had fled from Jing Yuan's grasp, accidental or not.
But those unfamiliar red eyes of his...brought her some memories. brought her some sense of familiarity. Though she didn't recognize him, or he was someone from her distant memory or past self, he was indeed someone dear to her.
But as she was about to continue wallowing in her thoughts and losing herself in her empty memories, the device she had received earlier buzzed in her pocket.
She took out the device, as it shone brightly, blinding her for a moment. She let out a small string of curses, like, why the hell was this...THING (??) so damn bright ?!
But it was a message from Jing Yuan. So she tapped on the white banner, as it automatically led her to the chatting app Jingyan had showed her to use earlier.
"Princess, I hope you're safe. Do you want to come back now ? It's getting late." the message read.
(Y/n) felt her cheeks heating up a little. This flirty General of the Xianzhou Luofu really likes to play his cards and call her princess, huh...?
"I am in no way a princess. But yes, I would like to return now." (Y/n) quickly tapped, finding herself adapting to the new knowledge pretty quickly.
"You are always a princess, (Y/n). Pretty like one too. just take it as a compliment, alright ? This General doesn't hand out compliments as much as you might like." she received back.
She groaned a little in embarrassment. And shook her head with a little smile playing by her lips. She got up from the ground and began to exit the dark alley, where she had an encounter with the Xianzhou's (or rather the IPC) most wanted criminal.
"Yanqing told me he had you sent to the Exalting Sanctum for some fresh air and a change of scenery. From there, you can head north onto a bridge. Then, walk left until you see a Starskiff jetty on your right. You can request a ride to the Seat of Divine Foresight. I shall be waiting for you here." Jing Yuan instructed and (Y/n) nodded, even though he wasn't there to witness it.
"If you're too late, I might come pick you up myself~" he replied once more, and (Y/n) groaned again, turning off the device.
And so she walked off, away from the alley she was in. She didn't mind the stares anymore. She was her own person. She didn't need to hide, since her horns were part of her. And they were of great significance once in the past.
(Y/n) was close to the stairs that would lead her to the bridge Jing Yuan mentioned.
Until someone stopped her.
(Y/n) was stopped with a violent thud of something colliding with the ground behind her. She turned around to see a figure in heavy uniform behind her. A Cloud Knight, she recalled, as Jing Yuan once told her. She couldn't see his facial expression for it was blocked with the metal mask that obscured their face.
"Excuse me, miss. This may sound rude, but are those horns on your head real ?" the knight asked her, skeptically eyeing her from head to toe (or so she thought).
"Yes, the horns on my head are very much real. I suggest to you to not touch them, for they are very sensitive. Like when you bite into ice cream ? Yeah, it feels like that." (Y/n) said, raising a hand subconsciously to protect the horns on her head.
She was feeling very...self-conscious about them now, but she knew the reason behind the horns on her head. The others began to look at the commotion, but rather than looking sorry for her or helping out, they looked at the knight fearfully.
"Miss, you must come with me. I must confirm your identity. No one but the High Elders are supposed to have horns on their head, unless...but you...don't look like..." the knight trailed off, looking at the woman before him.
"You must come with me, quickly." he said, and took (Y/n)'s arm forcefully to a more secluded area.
"Wh-what...? Where are you taking me ?!" (Y/n) exclaimed, snapping her arm away from the knight, growling in instinct.
"No. You must come with me."
"Hands off of the Lady." A suave voice called out from the side.
"General !" the knight saluted, standing up straight as he released the woman from his grasp.
Jing Yuan looked quite angry, pushing (Y/n) slightly behind him, giving her an apologetic look for a moment. "Sorry I'm late, princess. Are you hurt ? My apologies. He's just confused just as many of the others are."
"I thought I had dispatched the news to the Cloud Knights earlier this morning to tell the other Luofu residents. I suppose some of you weren't notified through the headlines. That was...to not confront the horned woman."
"General ! She's...she has horns on her head. This cannot be but an imposter !" the knight tried to clarify, to which Jing Yuan stiffened a little at the word 'imposter'. He glared at the knight before him.
"Imposter...do you know what accusations you are making without base ? This lady before me...is the reincarnation of the Star-Crossed Dragon's Cradle." Jing Yuan revealed, shocking everyone, including (Y/n) herself.
Star-Crossed Dragon's Cradle...? Dan Jia was that...? Just what the hell happened in her past...life or incarnation or timeline or whatever ?
"Lady (Y/n)...is the past High Elder, Imbibator Lunae's sister. The Fallen One during the Sedition of Imbibator Lunae." Jing Yuan said before he looked at (Y/n).
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, (Y/n). When you're so unprepared. I was sure to make sure most of the residents of the Luofu to remain silent if you passed. I suppose the news slipped minds of some." Jing Yuan said, giving her an apologetic look.
After the commotion was neutralized, Jing Yuan brought her to his estate. Being the ever-gentleman he was, he had provided for her a room in advance. But (Y/n) refused to rest just yet, wanting to hear answers from Jing Yuan himself. And so...
So there they were, sitting down in one of his leisure rooms, where a board of starchess was placed between them. He looked heavy to tell her what exactly transpired, but he knew she had a right to the truth.
He took in a deep breath.
"Princess...before I tell you anything, just know that I did everything for your safety. And most things that transpired in the past, shall not affect you now." he said, and (Y/n) nodded.
"I had shared the information of your awakening to the Cloud Knights to tell to the general public. You were free to roam the Luofu as you desired without interrogation, as you were under my supervision." Jing Yuan said with a heavy sigh, and a smile as he chuckled. he bowed his head, his bangs concealing his eyes further before he rose again.
"Now, like I said, you and the previous High Elder are siblings. Both of you were candidates to inherit the Dragon Heart due to numerous factors, but only one shall be chosen as the High Elder and inherit the said heart." Jing Yuan began, looking straight into (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes that looked at him curiously.
"But surprisingly, both of you succeeded the Transmutation Arcanum, after passing the dragon transmutation. And between the two of you, Dan Feng was chosen to lead the army due to his immense power and potential, and you were chosen to stay in the back lines due to your healing abilities."
"You, (Y/n), rebirthed from Dan Jia, possessed that heart, and Dan Feng became the High Elder for he was more dominant on field, serving as a more...prominent leader as some would call it. But due to his destructive nature on the battlefield, the heart was transferred to you, where you would be Dan Feng's source of power. And it would always be safe in the back lines."
"So this...Dragon Heart..." (Y/n) started.
"It is a source of power. So as long as it lives, Dan Feng's power remains undisrupted. You are the vessel, and Dan Feng is the output." Jing Yuan tried to explain.
"You used to be the holder of the Heart. Hence the title, the Dragon's Cradle. You held the heart close in your chest, protecting it from everyone and everything. That is...until it was ripped from you."
Her blurry memories from before she awoke began to flash in her mind. The bone marrow. The pain. The guilt. The screams. The ripping...
The pain wasn't only from her back. It was also from her heart.
The heart that was ripped away from her...
But why...?
Her thoughts began to scramble in her mind, not being able to comprehend anything else Jing Yuan was saying. Her vision began to blur as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed.
But she was pulled back to reality was the warm and large hand that was placed on her head. Worried golden eyes melted her heart as they gazed with concern and oozed with warmth.
"That should be enough for today. I apologize, my princess. I suppose that this information may have overwhelmed you." Jing Yuan said, a tender smile on his lips as he caressed her silky strands of (h/c) hair.
"It's late. You should rest up. Come, I shall lead you there..." Jing Yuan said, standing up and offered a hand to her.
(Y/n) took his hand as he led her through the spacious walls of his mansion on the Luofu. Being a general for as long as him and as significant, his riches knew no bounds. But he had nothing to spend it all on...
The last time he made a big spending, was to build the resting house for his dear friend, who lay resting, unknowing when she was to wake up. But now that she was awake, perhaps he wouldn't be as lonely as he used to.
The two walked in silence, Jing Yuan pondering in his own sorrows, and (Y/n) trying to remember the details and admired the traditional interior of Jing Yuan's manor. Then, Jing Yuan stopped and looked at (Y/n). "This is your room. Use it for as long as you'd like."
"In the closet is a few clothes if you'd like to wear them. I've had the servants prepare everything for you. Don't worry, I didn't peek." Jing Yuan said warmly, caressing her hair.
"My room is just next door if you need me. If you think you cant reach me, you can call me. I'll be awake if you need anything, okay ?" Jing Yuan asked and (Y/n) nodded her head.
She was much too baffled by today's revelation, that she had some trouble processing most of what was currently taking place. But Jing Yuan was kind to her, as he had always been since the moment she opened her eyes.
"Okay...thank you...Jing Yuan..." (Y/n) said, looking at him with her glassy (e/c) eyes. Jing Yuan smiled and took her hand, kissing it softly before letting go of her hand for the night.
The general smiled as he watched (Y/n)'s face lit up with a tender and shy blush on her cheeks, finding it amusing and strangely addicting. He lifted his finger to her cheek, lowering his voice to a soft whisper.
"Good night, (Y/n)..." Jing Yuan whispered before he left her, walking towards his own room.
Internally, he was screaming and congratulating himself, tempted to give himself a pat on the back. But that was a party meant for himself in his room. He closed the door, making sure that he was alone as he gazed up at the moon. he smiled longingly, his honey-colored eyes glazed with nostalgia.
"How I wished you'd dance once more, sister of the Imbibator Lunae. The Saltator Lunae, Dancer of the Moon..." he whispered.
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Text
Snake Eyes 2
Warnings: noncon coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.
Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.
Part of The Club AU
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You go up to the Cobra Lounge, a large bottle of top shelf vodka in hand. It’s one night. You can handle dealing with rich pricks and carrying around liquor. It’s only really demeaning to put your bar training to waste. Worst, you know it won’t make the night easy for Thor.
In the private room, with its full wall of windows looking down onto the dance floor, you find three men. One sits on the leather couch, knees wide as he strokes the hair along his upper lip; another reclines on the armchair, his feet up on the ottoman as he scrolls on his phone, combing his fingers through his short hair over and over; and the third stands by the windows, like a villain at the apex of Gotham, about to unleash his sinister plot.
“Ah, there she is,” the mustachioed one on the couch sits forward and smirks. His shirt is unbuttoned low on his chest, enough to give a generous view of his pecs.
“She’s new,” the one on his phone comments, not even looking up.
“Disappointing,” the third says to the window, “I rather liked Danica.”
“Was that her name?” The second one scoffs.
“What are you even doing here, Drysdale?” The man on the couch clucks, “you can watch porn at home.”
“I’m doing important business,” he second, Drysdale snarls and blackens the screen of his phone, “market doesn’t stop.”
“Not tonight,” the third warns, “Hansen, what do you think?”
Hansen, in his satin shirt, stands and struts over to the window to gaze out with the other man. You find glasses along the private bar and go about your task. Rich men are rarely easy to serve or please. Nor do they bother to return the favour, in your experience.
“Well, Pine, I don’t see any tens. Maybe a few eights…. Eight and a half tops,” Hansen snickers.
You hide your discomfort as you serve the man still sitting. He accepts his drink with a terse point to the coaster at his elbow. You put the glass there and approach the other. The taller of the two, with the lilt in his voice, thanks you, as the other, Hansen, barely looks at you.
“Gentlemen,” Loki enters as you leave the vodka on the bar. The men paid for the bottle. “Shall we begin?”
“You know, you promised us the pick of the lot,” Hansen pivots and crosses an arm over his chest, his other bent as upward as he smooths his mustache, “not much to pick from if you ask me.”
“Don’t pretend you’re so picky,” Drysdale spouts from his seat, lighting up his phone to check the notifications.
You don’t say a word. You’re not there to tell the douchebags to shut up. You move towards the door but Loki stays in your path. He points you backward.
“Darling, stay,” he demands, lowering his voice as he brushes by, “and do put a smile on.”
You turn and remain by the door as he strides inside. He fits easily among the group. He nears the man at the window, Pine, you think, and scans the crowd below.
“It is early,” Loki insists, “be patient. As it were, you did say there were matters of import to discuss.”
“Matters of import,” Hansen snorts, “this one always sounds like he’s giving a speech from the throne.”
“Ah yes, however I may sound,” Loki spins, “at least I haven’t a broom upon my lip.”
The men sneer at each other. A tension thickens in the air but cracks in an instant as both of the issues manufactured laughter. Ugh, you would much rather be working behind the bar.
“Darling,” Loki gestures to you demandingly. Shit.
You get him a glass of vodka, on the rocks with soda, as you were instructed before you came up. You bring it to him as he lets himself down onto the couch. His eyes meet yours as he does. Hansen rounds the other end of the couch.
“At least she has nice tits,” he picks up his glass, doffing it towards you.
“Mm, always so eloquent,” Loki remarks, but you don’t miss how his eyes drift down before averting completely. You retreat to wait for your next demand.
“Ugh, is this Smirnoff?” Drysdale whines.
“It is on the house,” Loki girds.
“I have money,” he retorts but drinks the vodka without further complaint.
“Otherwise you’d not be here for the big boy talk,” Lloyd retorts, “so let’s get into it. Is this about LA or Miami?”
Loki hums as he sips from his glass. Pine comes to stand behind the couch, tearing his attention from his inspection of the dancers below. Drysdale wiggles his phone between his fingers impatiently.
“Not so far as that,” Loki affirms, “these very walls. An expansion.”
“Which has what to do with us?” Hansen swirls his ice noisily.
“Well, there was some previous talk of investment and I would need a contractor as well,” he looks between the two men sat nearest to him, “and of course, PR.”
The men nod and each sink into a thoughtful lull. You watch dully, unconcerned with the venture, wishing only to be done with listening to their ego stroking.
As you hold back a yawn, your eyes meet a pair of green ones. Loki watches you, tilting his head as you force a smile. He returns his attention to the others.
“This isn’t a funeral,” Loki chides, “it should be a celebration, no?”
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viburnt · 7 months
Text
Izuku Midoriya || Husband
Type: One-shot
Genre: NSFW/Suggestive
Cw: Cheating
Characters involved: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo (secondary- implied relationship)
Prompt: Reconnecting with an old friend leads to feelings.
The clock was already marking thirty past midnight, making evident how (once more) Bakugo had failed to come home on time for dinner. You figured he'd at least try that day, considering the importance of the date. Anniversaries, birthdays, dinners; always forgotten, you'd be hearing a plethora of apologies the next day.
With a sigh, you blew the aromatic candles you had lit to create a more intimate ambience; who cares? The food was already cold, he could re-heat it if he still wanted it. No amount of dim lights would fix that sad pity-party of yours.
The bottle of wine that had been resting on a small silver ice bucket seemed tempting. It was calling your name, a good old one-on-one with alcohol; no one was going to judge you for it. With lips drawn into a fine line, you went for it.
You took the beverage and your phone, having a seat on the living room floor, back leaning against the davenport sofa the area had. The screen of your mobile lit as a notification popped; “Husband”, a flimsy ray of hope flashed through your mind.
“Leave the documents in the office. I'll check them tomorrow”
You huffed in annoyance; it wasn't uncommon for him to send texts to you that were meant for his secretary. It felt like an insult this time, whatsoever. He couldn't get home, but he could worry about paperwork?
Opening your texts, you scrolled through your contacts, unsure of what to do. The bottle of wine was still untouched, might as well share with anyone at that point. Your fingers soon reached a familiar face, Izuku Midoriya.
It had been a while since the last time you saw him. Hero work, you guessed, always tearing apart friendships and marriages. Your fingers typed a vague greeting, not expecting him to reply so quick to your call (or to reply at all).
“It's been so long! How are you?”
“A little lonely, I was thinking about you.”
You felt pathetic accepting your current situation, Katsuki always had time for his job, but for you? He'd compensate with expensive gifts and fancy dinners. Couldn't he see you felt neglected? No, of course not. In his mind, you were something he could take for granted.
“I'm close to your house, can I drop by?”
An intrusive thought slowly crept into your mind. Was it a bad idea? Perhaps. You didn't care.
“Sure, I have some wine.”
When you opened the door, you were greeted with a rather pleasant view. Izuku was standing there with a warm smile, holding a plastic bag from a nearby convenience store. His broad shoulders and hero suit made him look like a model.
—Brought some beer, hope you don't mind.
His voice felt refreshing, it had become a nice tone that made your knees weak. You smiled back, allowing him to come inside. Izuku's eyes fixed on the tight red dress you were wearing and the way your place was neatly decorated.
—I didn't expect such a welcome, you didn't have to do anything.— He teased a little, hearing you sigh in return.
—No, this was supposed to be my anniversary dinner.
Izuku frowned for a moment, feeling confused. Wasn't Katsuki with you? He walked through the dining room, watching the two plates you had prepared.
—He isn't here? In your anniversary?
You shook your head, opening the bottle of wine to pour it into a couple of glasses.
—No, his other wife is more important. You know, married to his job and all.
Izuku felt a foreign feeling of anger sprouting inside him. What kind of partner does that? Kacchan had to be an idiot to let something like that to happen.
—Here, let's go to the couch. We can chat about life, see how things have been…
—Sure thing! I've been dying to catch up with you.— He answered, taking the glass you were handing him.
It felt comfortable, being old friends had its perks. He felt his body at ease, the words flowing with abandon. The topic of the old times arose, back to U. A where the two dated. Izuku missed that, he missed you; and with the role of alcohol added to the mix, what happened next was bound to happen.
Half-dressed, fully drunk and on top of pro-hero number 1, Deku. Your lips were leaving bashed kisses all over him, his rough hands resting on your hips as he squeezed your skin.
Izuku always had a thing for you. What a shame you married Kacchan...
—You look so pretty, wanna make you feel good.— He panted, bucking his hips against yours to let you know he was more than ready for you. Any trace of the timid person he used to be in his younger years was gone, he had grown into a confident flirt. Although, he had to admit, being with you made him feel like a teen again.
You bit your lip, rolling your hips against his clothed erection. The freckled hero underneath you grunted in pleasure.
—I want you.— He heard you say, eliciting a carnal desire within his soul. Many times had he dreamt of it, of you; on his home, in his office, in his car. So long, yearning for someone who had slipped into another man's life accidentally.
—Kacchan must be some dumb jerk to treat you like this. Leaving a thing like you all alone on her anniversary…
You huffed, annoyed at the sound of his name.
—Don't wanna know about him, he can go to hell tonight.
A mischievous grin crept into Midoriya's face, cupping your breasts as he held you on his lap.
—Get that ring of yours off.— He said with a sultry voice. —Tonight we'll play husband and wife, gonna give you a couple of kids to be a mom.
You snickered, leaning in to kiss him more as your wedding ring rested on the coffee table nearby. With skilled hands, you eased him off his bottoms, allowing his cock to breathe.
—Maybe you should. I don't mind being Mrs. Midoriya for the night.
The sneer remark had Izuku's skin crawling; he knew this was going to be a secret between you and him, but he was willing to fuck it all if it meant having you.
He rolled the hem of your dress up, revealing the red set of lingerie you had prepared to impress his friend. Biting his lip, he rubbed your clothed sex.
—You're already so wet, fuck, baby… When was the last time you got some?
You threw your head back, body jolting at the sensation of his fingers working on your clit.
—He's been so busy, it's been months.
—Months? If I had a woman like you… shit, we'd have a big family by now.
You took your knickers off, desperate to get some pleasure. Aligning yourself with him, he slowly but surely plunged inside your wet cunt.
A stir of curses left your mouth, feeling your walls stretch as his girth filled you. Midoriya cried out in pleasure, covering his mouth a little to avoid being too loud.
—Holy shit- I never imagined your pussy would feel this good.
The words felt like velvet to your ears. You had always suspected he'd be very vocal - he used to whine a lot as a teen – but his whimpers were driving you crazy with lust.
You started to bounce up and down his cock, skin slapping against skin. It felt good, but must importantly, you felt desired and powerful.
—Come on, Zuku, give me that one for all.— You purred, panting as your cunt squeezed his length. He grabbed your hips with more force, his body rocking against yours with more intensity.
His moans were intoxicating, fogging your mind as he changed you into a more comfortable position. Bending you over the armrest of the couch, your cunt was in full display for him.
—You're so tight, doll. You have me on edge- shit. Y-your cunt is- oh fuck me.
Izuku rammed his cock inside you with an unbending rhythm, balls slapping against your ass as one of his hands rested on the back of your neck. It was cathartic, your body feeling ready to come undone. Your anger, your desire, your frustrations- all washed out by the powerful orgasm building within you.
—Make me cum, please. Izuku - ha, please- I need you.
No more words were needed, his free hand reached to your clit, satiating your command. He could feel your walls convulse and your muscles tense as your high came over. A loud cry left your mouth as he continued fucking your hole.
Izuku was lost in desire, his carnal needs taking control as he felt his own peak come.
—Where should I-
—Inside, cum inside me.
It felt like an electrifying wave of newfound thrill. Hearing you say something like that so bluntly was enough to come undone; hot sticky ropes of white painting your walls, seeping through your hole.
He panted, trying to steady his breath. The silence that followed the scene felt comfortable; a malicious compliance shared as his gaze connected with yours. You leaned in to kiss him, tenderly this time.
—I wish he was you.
Izuku buried his head on your chest, cuddling you as he felt your heart beat.
—Me too, baby, me too…
When Bakugo arrived home, the lights were off. He could see the dinner still on the platter, cold and dull, as it had been untouched. Cursing under his breath, he quietly made his way to the bedroom, finding you already sleeping.
He kissed your forehead, feeling like a bastard for forgetting you again.
He wouldn't have to worry about it soon, another man was taking care of you anyway.
Like my content? Comment and follow! The feedback encourages me.
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infected-paul · 5 months
Text
☆ ALI'S 2023 END-OF-YEAR APPRECIATION POST !!!
hi friends!!! i just wanted to do a little thing where i thank my friends for being my friends and helping make my year brighter!! this is loosely inspired by @mirxzii!
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Firstly, thanks soo much to all my mutuals and followers and everyone else I've had positive interactions with this year on here :)
I'd also like to take a moment and thank all my friends who made my year:
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☆ OLIVE | @jewishruthfleming
↳ hiii ilysmmm you've been such a great friend to me and i'm soo grateful you're my friend. thanks for putting up with me and my hyperfixations which are completely different from yours, thanks for listening to my rambles abt alex wilder. you have literally been one of the best parts of my year, and i wanted to make sure you knew that so
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☆ NOOR | @kohinoors
↳ noor omg first off hi. i hope this is year is soo good to you. you are one of the coolest people i've ever met. even though neither of us like the same things anymore, i still love you soo much, and im so glad you think i'm cool enough to be your friend 🥺 you're like my cool big cousin, ilysmm
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☆ LUNA | @mexicancokewannabe
↳ LUNA BBG HII, literally ilsym. ty for always being there for me and always cheering me up when i'm sad and making me laugh, and making sure ik to sleep. you're such a sweet, fun person and my life is better bc of you 🦐🦐
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☆ MARTY | @vidnasty
↳ marty, i hope you know i think you're like the coolest person ever. even though we don't talk much anymore, i still love you so much, tysm for making me laugh and smile and cry (with your angst posts and fic ideas)! i hope you have a wonderful 2024!!!
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☆ ROXIE | @mirxzii
↳ roxiee i love you just as much now as i did during our encanto phases, even though we don't talk much or have the same interests, i still enjoy seeing your posts on my dash, and i hope you have a lovely year, hon ^_^
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☆ IZZY | @luckynature
↳ izzy!! ilysmmm you are so sweet and cool, and i'm so happy seeing you get the love you deserve this year, (and hitting almost? 1k followers), like congrats babes, you deserve it!!! your ideas and concepts for characters whether oc or existing are always so amazing, like you literally are soo creative omg. you're like the mirabel to my isabela, ilysm have a great year!!
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☆ JUNO | @madwickedawesome
↳ juno u r literally so poggers. omg ilyy ur soo cool and have such great taste. and THANK you for introducing me to lacrimosa. life changing frr alshskk anyway ily!!!
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☆ JAS | @isitovrnow
↳ jas, you're such an angel, thank you sooo much for being my friend!!! you're such a kind, beautiful soul omg, i hope this year is kinder to you, ily
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☆ VARI | @mapsareforbraindeads
↳ niaaa ilysm you are such an amazing writer, and you're so cool. like omg, ilysm i hope you have a great year and i hope life is kinder to you
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☆ ASH | @the-wank-shank
↳ you are like omg. you are so cool, you are also like a big cousin to me!!! your humour is so funny, and your art is so poggers. ily hug!!
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☆ AERON | @lanawinterscigarettes
↳ MY big bro!!! i love seeing you spam my notifs, its like my little way of knowing your online lol, your such a bright person you always make me smile whenever we talk ilysmmm
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☆ AMI | @foxboy-light-yagami
↳ ami you are so funny, your vibes are immaculate, and i love being correct abt light yagami with you. you are literally such a joy and ilysm
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☆ IZZIE | @hateful1979
↳ izzie!!! you are such a lovely person, and have such banger taste omggg i love you so much you're such a delight
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☆ ACHILLES | @nibblelinephym
↳ achilles you are so poggers!!! ilysmm ty for being my friend! you're so nice and always brighten the dash
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☆ CLOUD | @sillysnack
↳ CLOUDDD!!!! YOU ARE ONE OF my favourite ppl omg, you're such a lovely, sweet person ^_^ we've been friends since jan 2022 with our encanto phases (2 YEARS!!) AND i can't wait for another 2 years and beyond omg ilysm i can't put in words hi
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☆ SOPHIE | @larsgoingtomars
↳ sophie, you're amazing and i love you so much!! your such a lovely person and i love talking to you, you're such a great friend ilysm
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And a special mention to all my friends and mutuals who've deactivated- Asha, Envy, Oli, El, Deus, and everyone else, I still love you so much and I hope that you're okay <3
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HAPPY NEW YEARS, EVERYBODY, HERE'S TO A GREAT 2024!!!
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gourdkeeper · 10 months
Note
I just had to message you once I saw how good your writing is!^^ (the Jamie brainrot is REAL and you're saving my sanity rn!)
Following on from your most recent fic about Jamie getting the wrong idea about reader and Luke hanging out together, MAYBE there could a scenario where Jamie is being hella sus about his phone (Spending longer than usual on it, hiding it, always leaving it facedown, never leaving it un attended or letting you see it etc) and reader eventually cracks and checks his phone whilst he is sleeping, and sees messages from another girl. They aren't down right incriminating but they are definitely a little flirty. Instead of confronting him about it, reader gives him the benefit of the doubt, until she catches him at a Restaurant with said girl.
More stuff happens, and there was some misunderstanding too, and some nsfw stuff happens ;D
Sorry its so long!
Sorry I took so long to get to this one anon! I didn't get to proofread so I'm so sorry if there's a type here and there 🙏 anyway, jealous fem!reader fic coming up.
Nsfw-ish at the end but nothing graphic happens
It was out of ordinary. Sure. Jamie never really was one to show his phone around or freely let others peek into it, he was reserved when it came to his privacy and there's nothing wrong with that. You respect it, the same way you hope he'll always respect yours.
However... It's been nagging you. You know it shouldn't, it's none of your business and you trust your boyfriend but... he's been acting strange. One time you've asked him to use his phone because yours ran out of battery and he rushed to close a bunch of notifications and apps before handing it over, while still keeping his sight on you. Looked almost antsy until you've given it back.
"Jamie, is everything ok?"
"Huh, yeah of course? What's the matter?" His face wasn't relieved, his brow was still furrowed with signs of worry.
"Nothing..."
You didn't snoop around, but you almost wish you did. There's gotta be something up.
The behaviour continues for the majority of the week. Phone always in his possession, not checking it in front of you. Screen down when it's on the table. It's driving you insane. What if. What if he's cheating on you?
He wouldn't. Would he?
Your head is spiraling. You can't stand the thought that he'd do something like that to you, it would break you. I mean. What would he even do that for? Surely he's had his fair share of people hitting on him before you were a couple so he wouldn't just settle down with a random chick. And he wouldn't just cheat with some flinging crush. But what if.
He's passed out on the couch. He drank too much during a brawl tonight and he's pretty much knocked out cold.
Surely it can't harm to clear your doubts...
You hate poking your nose into his business. It feels bad. Wrong. Betraying even.
But it doesn't stop your hands from moving on their own and opening his messaging app.
"Huh... That's a lot of messages." You're a bit incredulous. "Barbara" is her name and the texts feel so. Intimate. Not really intimate as in sexual but you can tell they're close. Almost flirty even but never crossing too far. She sent pictures of her outfit before and he replied with excitement, hyping her up. She was pretty. Tall. Blonde. Nice curves. Plump lips and sweet brown eyes. Probably the dream woman of a lot of people. She seemed funny too.
You could feel the jealousy set in. "Maybe they're just friends." You kept telling yourself in the back of your head. You decide not to jump to conclusions, there's nothing downright incriminatory here even if it definitely tugs at your heart strings.
You set the phone down, careful to leave it in the same position it was previously so he wouldn't realize you snooped.
---
A week later and the story repeats. Same odd behavior when it comes to his phone.
He gets a text while you're both on the couch.
"Who's that?" You ask, hoping that maybe he'll shed some light on it.
"Hm? Oh! Uh a friend, I haven't seem them in ages, I'm gonna meet with them tonight to catch up." His eyes seem to avoid you while talking.
"Oh like? From school?" You pry.
"Sort of. A childhood friend from when I first moved here."
Why is he so short with his answers and so damn vague. It's aggravating. You breath in and out.
"Hm... Alright." You let it go.
---
You've been seething and brewing in jealousy since he left. It's been an hour. You can't take it anymore and you get dresses to go out for a walk and cool your head down.
There's too many thoughts in your head and that might help.
When you step out of the appartment it's kinda chilly outside and you put on a thin jacket before closing and locking the door.
The streets are kind of empty. It looks like it's gonna rain. Whatever, you won't be out for long anyway.
Or so you thought.
As you passed the window of a busy bar your corner of your eye caught something and your legs instinctively stop you in your track.
That's Jamie. That's Jamie and his so called "friend", Barbara. They're together. A bit *too* together. Laughing. Drinking. Their eyes locked on each other.
---
"I can't believe YOU out of all people want to get married? When will I meet the unlucky girl?" Barbara says as Jamie punches her arm lightly.
"Stop it, you're making me look lame-" he rolls his eyes and takes another swig, "You'll meet her soon, I haven't really had her meet any friends or family yet. I don't know how to bring it up." His shoulder sulk. Truth is he never considered this before this relationship. The great Jamie Siu, settling down with a wife and a home? Pfft never. Except here he is, planning the life ahead of him.
"You just do it? It's not rocket science." She orders another drink as she kicks back the one she had in hand. "Have you even picked the ring already?"
Jamie pulls a small box out of his pocket. "It's right here." He gives it a small shake as he talks.
"Oh my god. Can I see it?"
---
Why is he being so secretive about this girl? What is he doing with her that you can't know about? Because right now it doesn't look good at all.
You storm in angrily through the front door and they both turn to see you. He looked mortified as he fumbled to shove something back into his pocket.
"B-babe! Hi- w-what are you doing here?" He jumps out of his seat to meet you halfway, keeping you away from his friend, afraid you might just punch her with how tense you look.
"I need to. No. I demand to know what the fuck is going on!" Everyone in the bar is staring. Jamie gulps down dry as he looks around as if looking for an answer that will save the situation.
"It's not what it looks like. I promise!"
That was probably the most cliche and worst thing he could have said on the spot. Your nose and upper lip twitch and you turn on your heel and leave throught the same door you came in.
Tears welling at your eyes. His answer told you just about everything that you needed to know. How could he? How could he do this to you?!
"Babe no wait-!" Jamie turns to his friend and motions that he'll be right back and rushes after you.
Once he gets to you he hold you by your arm and pulls.
"Let go of me."
Your voice sounds strained. Clearly holding back tears from rolling down your cheeks.
"Babe no please... Let me explain-"
You turn around to face him, "Explain what? Was I not good enough for the great Jamie Siu? Am I not hot enough? Not enough of a trophywife or something?"
He looks shocked. Hurt even. Regretting his mistakes about not being honest about his friend from the get go and letting you ferment in doubt.
It starts raining.
"That's not it. That will never be the case." He holds your hands. "Please come back in with me, you'll get sick out here."
"Jamie I don't care."
"But I do. I'm supposed to protect these streets, I'm not about to let the love of my life get sick out here." He has a gentle smile on his face, as if he's trying to break the tension.
"Who is she?" You ask bluntly.
"I told you. She's a childhood friend. One of the first people I've met outside of Hong Kong and China." His eyes look honest. Gazing at you. His hands reaching up to hold your face and caress your cheeks. "Please believe me... You're mine. And I am yours. Forever and always..."
The rain is now starting to pour. Soaking through your clothes and screwing up your hair.
"Why did you hide her from me then?" There's still a tinge of doubt in your voice.
"I was afraid you'd be jealous. I was stupid because clearly all I did was make it worse. I'm sorry."
Your head hangs. You feel stupid for thinking he'd betray you. Your anger feels more directed at yourself than him this time. The tears can no longer be held back. You feel embarrassed and so fucking stupid. Tears mixing with the rain droplets, your face puffing up and voice cracking.
"Jamie I'm so sorry- I- I-"
He holds you close to him, laying your head in his chest.
"It's okay, I'm the one who needs to apologize..."
"No, I- I looked through your phone when you were asleep and... And I thought you two were flirting or something and-"
He doesn't reply and just kisses the top of your head.
Shortly after you hear a voice.
"Hey maybe we can just hang out another day? All three of us. You should both go home."
It was her. She had a deep but kind voice.
"But-" Jamie's head whips back.
"Just go, I'll be in town the whole week anyway."
You look up at her with your hands slightly covering your face out of embarrassment. Damn she is really tall and pretty.
She gives you a sweet smile, "Don't worry I'm not interested in this douchebag, love." She finishes with a laugh, "The bill is paid. Take care yeah?"
She walks off under an umbrella without another word. You look back at Jamie, speechless. He looks back at you and you both giggle at the stupidity of it all. You feel plain dumb.
You walk back to your appartment. You can't help but think about how she told you she was not interested and bring it up.
Jamie blinks blankly for a second.
"She's lesbian."
"Oh-"
Way to feel even *more* stupid.
He unlocks the door and you both walk in looking like a pair of stray wet dogs.
"Babe..."
You turn back to him as he closes the door.
"Yeah?"
You watch as he gets down on one knee. What.
What does he think he's doi-
He pulls out a small red box with gold accents from his pocket.
No fucking way.
It clicks open.
"Will you marry me?" His head hanging low, waiting for the answer.
"What the fuck!"
"Is that a yes or a no?!" He has no time to look up as your arms wrap around his neck and push him back onto the ground, kissing him.
"Yes!" You exclaim loud and clear as you continue kissing him, pulling back only to look down at him in adoration. His face is flushed and he has a nervous shaky smile on his lips, half incredulous. He could burst with happiness but he doesn't even know how to react besides kissing you in return.
"I love you so much I feel so stupid for thinking-"
"Shh it's okay, it's okay-!"
You shut him up with more kisses.
Minutes later and you're both a flustered mess and manage to finally sit up.
"So..." He grabs the box from the ground and picks up the ring from it. His other hand holding onto your hand, he slides the ring on your finger. "Miss Siu?" He smiles, his cheeks flushed red and bats his lashes before looking content at you.
"That would be me~!" You reply happily as you take your hands to hold his face and plant another kiss on his pretty lips.
"I love you so much... You'll always be mine..." Forever possessive huh? "You were so jealous... It's kinda cute..."
"Stoooop it was not cute-"
He nuzzles his face closer with a smirk. "Oh but it was very cute. You just can't stand the idea of sharing me? Don't worry... I'm all yours..." He teases whispering.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" You cock an eyebrow at him.
"It means... The great Jamie Siu, belongs to his trophywife and he'll do anything she wants to make it up to her." He has a mischiveous and hopeful smile on his lips.
Good thing you're already on top of him.
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tranquilpetrichor · 1 year
Text
the friendship problem
synopsis: in which you have company during morning break, and it is strangely tolerable.
cast: jiung (p1harmony) x gn!reader
genre: strangers to friends, high school!au
wc: 1.1k (1,117)
warnings: discussions of loneliness, reader is implied to show some symptoms of social anxiety, barely proofread
notes: looking back at my high school experience (and reflecting on my growth throughout school in general) thus far makes me oddly nostalgic. this one's definitely self-indulgent. here's to the people who didn't ask me why i was so quiet, who accepted my idiosyncrasies and admittedly, brought out a friendlier side in me.
(also peep that word count i wasn't gonna post this originally but i must, i count 1117 as a small ateez reference.)
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erasing the inappropriate drawings from the side whiteboard, you began to write a problem from your calculus textbook.
“integral of w squared times sin of 10 w…” you said out loud to yourself.
you could have gone outside, as it was time for break, but you found your math teacher’s classroom to be more comforting. natural light gently shone through the windows, the air freshener emitted a scent of pine, and best of all, there were no crowds to be found.
you had tried to get over your discomfort around large crowds and navigate to the cafeteria to buy a snack, but found that it was quite the pain in the ass to squeeze between couples who walked as slow as tortoises and boys who elbowed people everywhere they went.
through those wonderful experiences, you learned that the epicenter of your high school’s social life overwhelmed you the hard way.
shaking intrusive thoughts from your mind, you began to visualize solutions to this calculus problem. after a minute or two of writing, you had the answer.
“let’s go!” you cheered, knowing no one else would hear it, but finding it funny nonetheless.
suddenly, you heard a voice and turned around to see a classmate you vaguely recognized from classes you shared. jiung, that was his name.
“don’t mind me,” he said, “just looking for a place to read.”
your shoulders tensed up a little, but you nodded, resuming your work on another problem.
normally, you would expect an noticeable and uncomfortable silence, but jiung seemed to be just as at peace with the quiet as you were. that was more than you could say for a lot of people, who felt as if they had to fill silence with words that seemed rather meaningless.
curiously, you glanced at him reading. the book was an alternate history fiction novel by haruki murakami, titled 1Q84. you've read it before, of course.
"uh, enjoying your book so far?" you asked him, cursing under your breath afterwards when you got the low battery notification on your laptop.
"well," he paused briefly, "murakami's descriptions tend to be long-winded and i find some of the scenes a bit odd, but it's interesting for me. have you read it before?"
"yeah, i have. i had fun trying to make sense of all the symbolism, but i admit that 1Q84 can be a tough read for some."
you tried not to show it, but your eyes sparkled with excitement.
"since you've read it, it'd be nice to talk to someone about the book once i'm done." he smiled. "wait, your name is y/n, right? i've seen you in some of my classes."
you set the whiteboard marker down. “yep. and i know your name is jiung.”
he stared at the board in front of him, now filled from the not-quite-top to the bottom with math problems. "you wrote a lot in such a short amount of time. do you find math easy?"
you shrugged. "let's just say it's relaxing for me."
he did ask an interesting question. to be fair, you hadn't always liked math as much as you did now, being a highly stubborn child who was averse to doing their homework back then.
however, a natural curiosity to learn new concepts coupled with a preference for being alone gave you the time to sit down and ponder random topics, developing a special love for math due to its basis in objectivity.
in general, your teachers loved the fact that you asked questions and stayed during morning breaks and after class sometimes—their classrooms felt like a second home.
so yeah, you discovered that you liked doing math, and it was better than being around people who deliberately excluded you, or trying to participate in conversations where you knew you wouldn't get a word in.
better to be alone than to feel lonely, right?
(yeah, just keep telling yourself that.)
he stood up to stretch. "that's cool, i definitely admire that. you don't hear people call math relaxing often."
"to each their own. i just think it's important for someone to have something they enjoy, and who gives a shit what it is if it doesn't hurt anyone?"
you probably shouldn't have added the last part, as it came out more defensive than you anticipated. however, jiung didn't seem surprised. his eyes were kind and welcoming.
"i think it's a good rule to go by. there'd be way less conflict in the world if people minded their own business. oh, speaking of that, i hope i didn't bother you by coming in."
to your surprise, you didn't mind. "of course not, it is a teacher's classroom anyways, not mine, so obviously people have the right to come in, although most don't. and i mean, i do prefer it to be quiet while working. but your presence isn't bad or anything."
you twirled the whiteboard marker around in your hands. “quite the opposite, really. i actually liked talking to you.”
“do you not like talking to others?” he joked, probably noticing the emphasis you put on “liked.”
“i figure i either scare people away or they’re not the kind of person i want to be friends with anyways. also, not gonna lie, socializing is hard.”
for better or for worse, you knew what people thought about you—this was a fairly small school, after all. it was easier to just isolate than to worry about who was judging you.
"nothing wrong with incompatibility," he said with a small smile and a shrug. "it just means there's people out there who are better suited for you anyways."
you hadn't thought about your situation like that, but that was probably a wise way to put it.
"that... actually makes sense."
where was this dude lurking? it would have been nice to get to know him earlier, you thought. although it might be too early to tell, you had put him tentatively under a category of "people that were better suited for you."
jiung glanced at his phone for a quick second. "break's ending soon, so i have to head to my history class, but i enjoyed talking to you!”
he headed toward the door, but as he was about to leave, he turned back, as if he was forgetting something. "hey, mind if i get your kakaotalk information? let's chat again sometime."
you entered in your number, voice a little shaky. "i'd love to chat. and if you ever need to find me, i'll be here, like i always am."
"well then, i'll see you around!"
he walked to his next class, leaving you to ponder if it really was so difficult to make friends after all.
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