#god these saps. both of them. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 months

Note

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.”

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

1K notes · View notes

whoopssteddiefeels · 10 months

Text

If you think the CC boys aren't looking for Eddie, you're wrong

----

Steve opened his trunk and placed the groceries inside, Eddie’s special requests next to his usual staples and the excessive number of snacks he had grabbed for this week’s check in at Hopper’s cabin. Eddie was probably just being cute, requesting the same thing they had brought him in the boathouse, but Steve figured it would be just as cute to refill the request anyway. Anything to make Eddie smile and call him a sap in that overly sweet way he had.

He closed the trunk, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Already excited to get home to that amused smile and twinkling eyes.

“Where the fuck is Eddie?”

Steve jumped about a foot in the air, spinning on the spot, fumbling his keys in an embarrassing 3-part scramble that still ended with them clanking to the ground. He’s effectively trapped against his car, three boys glaring at him from a few feet away. How the hell did they sneak up on him in tandem like that?

They stood in a V-formation, arms crossed and eyes angry. The one in front, a black boy with braces and close-cropped hair who was doing his best to stare down at Steve despite their roughly even height, spoke again. “We don’t know what is going on, what happened, but you and Henderson are definitely involved.”

“I… I don’t…” Steve looked around quickly, hoping something would appear and save him from this conversation. Nothing did, the parking lot was empty except for them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit, man!” the smallest of the three exclaimed, pointing angrily in Steve’s face. “Whatever the fuck happened involved your stupid basketball team and our freshman members and god KNOWS what else but there’s no way Eddie would ever-”

“He didn’t do anything to that girl,” the first boy interrupted, Jeff, Steve’s brain slowly supplied, based on stories he’d heard from both Dustin and Eddie. This must be the rest of Corroded Coffin. Jeff, Gareth, and… shit what was the third kids name? Doesn’t matter, he needed to come up with an exit strategy fast.

Steve raised his hands, painfully aware that his keys were still on the ground. “Look, guys, I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me. Yeah, I don’t believe Eddie did anything to Chrissy. Henderson is at home, I haven’t even seen him in days. I don’t know where Eddie would’ve gone after the earthquake, you’d know better than-”

“You’ve got his battle jacket in your back seat.” Unnamed member cut in, voice hard.

“You just bought honeycombs, yoo-hoos, and camel cigarettes.” Gareth, the little one, chimed in.

Jeff took a step forward, making sure Steve was looking at him before he slowly reached forward and carefully pulled on the chain around Steve’s neck, drawing the guitar pick out from where it had rested under his shirt. The younger boy just raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the implication.

Steve sagged against his car, and Jeff let the necklace slip from his fingers as it was pulled back with his movement. It fell against the outside of his shirt, the red and black guitar pick stark and damning against the light blue of today’s polo.

Steve rubbed at his face, refusing to meet the trio of accusing glares. These were Eddie’s friends. His brothers according to the metalhead in question. There was no reason for Steve to be wearing that necklace other than what it was: a claim. They would know that, better than anyone. There was no getting out of this.

“Jesus H. Christ, okay. Okay. He’s… at my place. Just, follow me, I guess.”

#steddie #ficlet #established relationship #friendship #Eddie has FRIENDS damnit #he's popular in his own way #friendship is important they wouldn't let it go #the CC boys would burn shit down to find him

3K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

The James first time fic was so cute!! Maybe could you do a part 2 where it’s like the aftercare? Maybe readers kinda sore? If not that’s fine. Your my favorite author on this app have a lovely day/night🫶🏻

Thank you lovely, hope you have a lovely day/night as well !

cw: mature themes, nudity, reader experiences soreness from penetrative sex

the prelude (mdni)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 683 words

James is smearing kiss after kiss onto your neck and shoulder, one after the other like it’s all he plans to do for the rest of the night. He’s got his hand splayed flat on your abdomen, your back pressed to his front and one of his legs sprawled over your hip. Your breathing has slowed, and now despite the newness of the night’s events and the dull ache blooming between your legs, you’re halfway to drifting off from the steady comfort of his warmth.

“How are you feeling?” James asks, lifting his lips from your shoulder.

You chuckle softly. “I’m feeling pretty good at the moment, thank you. And how are you?”

“Come on.” He squeezes the pudge of your stomach, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “You know what I mean. Turn around, sweetheart, look at me.”

There’ll never come a day when you’re not happy to oblige that directive. James’ hand slips to your back as you roll over, rubbing back and forth a couple of times while he studies your face intently. James can actually be quite perceptive when he puts his mind to it, and you know he’s trying to put that skill to use now, scanning you for dissatisfaction or hidden hurt. You kiss him on the chin.

“I had a great time,” you reassure him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you?” He strokes the underside of your breast with a gentle thumb, looking troubled.

You bite down on a grin at the memory of his far less delicate treatment of that breast a few minutes before. “Not in any way I didn’t like.”

James’ smile is almost sheepish, his head dropping onto the pillow as his eyes look into yours honestly. “Yes, well,” he says, humor lightening his tone, “be that as it may, it would still be normal for things to be a bit sore afterwards.”

“Would it?”

Unintentionally, some of the levity has sapped from your voice. James’ expression softens. “Yeah, angel. I mean, not always, but it was only your first time.” He glances down your body. It’s a bit thrilling how casual that’s become. “Are you hurting?”

“Only a little,” you admit. You use your gentlest tone, but your boyfriend’s eyebrows bunch sympathetically nonetheless. “I don’t think it could have been helped, though. It was…” You look away from his eyes, face heating slightly. “It was a tight fit.”

James chuckles. His lips find your forehead, warm and soft. “M’sorry, m’love,” he says. “Do you want to have a bath? Warm water could help.”

You sigh, shifting closer and pressing the bridge of your nose to his neck. “I just want to stay with you.”

“That can be arranged.” He pulls away, and when you protest: “Two minutes. I’ll be right back.”

It’s undoubtedly more than two minutes, but James eventually makes good on his promised return. You won’t let him carry you to the bathroom, but you take the hand he offers to climb into the tub, and then he’s settling in behind you, your body between his legs and your head pillowed by his chest. The warm water is an instant relief, muscles you hadn’t even realized had been activated by the night’s activities uncoiling. James helps them along. His big hands migrate down to your thighs, massaging carefully underneath the water.

“Oh my god.” You turn your head up to his, kissing him reverently on the cheek. “Jamie, I mean no insult to your skills in the bedroom, but I think I can say with some confidence now that this is better than sex.”

James’ laughter shakes the both of you, his hands stilling on your legs so as not to hurt you. He brings one out of the water, taking your chin and angling your face so he can kiss you back properly.

“I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong,” he says, lips curved and chest still bumping with laughter beneath you, “but let’s remember to keep things in perspective, sweetheart. There’s plenty more sex to be had, I might change your mind yet.”

535 notes · View notes

superhoeva · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 – 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝟏𝟖+ ; 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞) | not technically in the bunny and the bear (because i don't think bear can tase bunny like this and not lose his mind), but feel free to think of it as such! whatever makes you happy <3

carmen knows exactly what he’s doing. the way he bites his bottom lip to hide his smirk tells you that much.

“ah, look at these tears,” he coos, thumbing at the tears that escape your watery eyes. “my pretty girl. really want it that bad, huh?”

skin hot and damp with a collecting sheen, you twist away from the man. he’s relentless, teetering you on the edge of the white-hot pleasure with a pitying kiss. you clench around nothing, clit jumping when carmen rubs his swollen head over the pulsing bud.

“fuck, bear. please.” your plead sounds pathetic, but the all-consuming desire for him to finally gift you what you so badly need is all you care about. he shushes you quietly, sucking in a hiss of air at the grip he squeezes around his dick. with a heavy breath, carmen plants another wet kiss on the bottom of your chin.

a thick groan punches out of him when he glides himself against you, member shining and slick with your juices.

“jesus, you’re wet,” he mumbles against you. “drippin’ all over me. fuckin’ soaking my dick, haven’t even stuck it in yet.”

you whimper at his words, more tears pooling to fall from your eyes. carmen brushes them away once more, feeling his resistance dwindle closer and closer to nothing. god, the sounds your pussy makes when teases his head against the entrance. coating the tip in the sticky sap you’re leaking out, tightening around nothing with wet squelches.

“doing so good for me, you know that?” carmen whispers against your lips, and you nearly black out when you finally feel it. he studies you, eyes hooded, at the way you suck in a choked inhale as he sinks inside you.

carmen stops breathing at the feeling, enamored with the way your eyes roll and head throws back. he feels your body begin to tremble, his hips just barely meeting against yours as you let out a wail.

“fuck. can’t hold it, carm,” you warn him, hands gripping whatever part of him you can. the chef can only watch as your face pinches, body quivering with a vigor that would make him worried if not for the words spilling out of your mouth.

his eyes widen, gazing with a lustful wonder as you cum before you can stop yourself.

“shit, yeah. there we go,” carmen rasps out, hips starting to grind himself in and out of you. working you through it while you squeeze and whine and leak around him. your words make out to nothing, an incoherent strand of mumbles only broken by hiccups and slight chokes.

you grow louder as carmen continues to thrust, soon coming to match your volume in his groans at the way his own orgasm creeps closer and closer.

“keep cummin’ around me, baby. fuck, don’t stop, feels so good. doin’ so good for me, lettin’ me fuck you like this, gonna take all my cum while you give me yours.”

your chest heaves as you do just that–keep cuming–bed jerking into the wall behind as carmen increases his speed. your weak and shaking legs find a way to wrap around the back of him, hand reaching for carmen’s cheeks as he lets out a cry.

he’s pounding into you now. both of your bodies jerking together, you feel carmen’s balls smack lightly against you. it’s almost too much. not just the overwhelming ache as he slides in and out of you, but him. his chain danging just between the two of you. a few of his curls, lost and away from the others, bouncing against his forehead. the absolutely filthy words that pour out of him with every flick of his waist.

“pussy’s so fuckin' good, creamin’ all over me. look so pretty like this, shit,” carmen interrupts himself with a surprised whine and a sniff. “love being inside’a you, fuckin’ love it. got you dripping, can feel it leaking down my balls, too. fuck.”

the only thing you can respond with is a broken moan as carmen pulls you closer, something he always does when he’s right there. his hands scramble and plant against you with panicked haste, gripping at your slick skin as he shoots the first string of cum inside you.

you hold him close, arms looped around his neck, as he pumps you full. carmen is all sputtering hips and muddled moans you can’t make out. it goes on for a while, him twitching inside of you and unable to fully open his eyes.

lips finding yours again, he kisses the both of you back to reality. it’s all deep and grounding, his hand reaching to grab at your jaw. his tongue glazes across yours one last time before he pulls away with a glint in his eye.

the softest of laughs bubbles up out of your limp body.

“don’t pull out yet, okay?” you mumble, voice thick with exhaustion, moving some of the hair from carmen’s forehead. “feels nice.”

carmen grins sleepily, pressing another kiss into the corner of your lips. “‘whatever you want, pretty girl.”

#carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear

587 notes · View notes

bittersweet-folder · 2 months

Text

♡. Stuck by the glue🎐🍃🌧

Pairing: literature student Wonwoo × literature student gn reader. (University au) ( edit: though I have mentioned "she/her" pronouns once. Sorry about that 😭)

Genre: fluff, lots of fluff and bit of crack lol, established relationship, there's lots of kissing | Word count: 1.5k [ik I went overboard lol] | MASTER LIST

Song rec: tip toe by hybs // glue song by beabadoobee ft clairo // love scene by baekhyun [yes title is inspired by the glue song]

Warning: there's lots of kissing ? And Wonwoo rides a bike.

Summary: you were at your boyfriend's place. you were bored and Wonwoo is reading. So Wonwoo came up with the idea of taking you to a bookstore he came across few days back

Note: here's some oddly specific details🍃 reader is tall but shorter than Wonwoo and wears glasses and even if you dont wear glases that is also okay (This is for all my tall glass girlies and gays out there because I'm one of them as well)

Taglist: @hongmingo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @thepoopdokyeomtouched (girlie lemme know if you were in my taglist 😭 because I've lost track of it😭)

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A nice pleasant Sunday afternoon. You came over to Wonwoo's apartment for lunch. You both don't live too far away, barely ten minutes away from each other. After lunch you laid on one side, on the sofa, your head resting on Wonwoo's lap. You were going through random shows on TV. One of Wonwoo's hands was caressing your hair while the other held a book he was reading. To be more accurate, going through the reading material suggested by their professor in class. You were bored. Not because of Wonwoo nor the random tv show displayed in front of you. Wonwoo did notice that. "Are you okay? Or you're bored? Which one?"

"Jeon Wonwoo am I that transparent-" you turned to look at him, your lips pressed in a thin line.

"Well maybe anyone can figure that out because you are going through random tv shows without actually watching them" He said while squeezing your cheeks.

"Okay then what about the book you're reading? Is it doing any better?" You said.

"I am particularly not liking it at all and reading it for the sake of my degree" He said with a forced smile really did explain that he was suffering.

"Wow okay, things we go through as literature students huh, even I hated some reading material from the previous semester. I swear to God they were so sexist and insufferable I don't even want to talk about those anymore" You said mulling over that for a few moments.

"Yeah exactly but I was asking if you're bored baby" He had a soft smile on his lips clearly because he saw that you got distracted from what he asked you previously. You were flustered about the fact that you went a bit off topic.

"Umm well yes I am and what will you do about that?"

"Hmmm lemme think…" he paused to think and then continued "we can go to a bookstore? there's a new one I came across, it also sells second hand books which are cheap"

"What-" you were always over the moon whenever you went book shopping with your boyfriend. "Oh yes we are going to the bookstore now!!"you exclaimed in sheer excitement. One thing Wonwoo knew is that you loved books and anything related to books. Bookstores had a special place in your heart, his too since that's how both meet. In a bookstore. Nearby your university. On a busy rainy monday afternoon.

"Alright sweetheart, wear your shoes and cardigan, I'll go get changed okay?" He said and then pressed a kiss on your cheek. You nodded and then started getting ready and fixed your hair too.

Wonwoo came out of his room after a few minutes in a sap green hoodie and wide legged jeans and… riding gloves?

He walked up to you. "So I'm guessing you're ready let's goo then"

"Umm baby are you gonna give me a ride as well?" you looked at his gloves and then raised your eyebrows.

"What kinda ride exactly are you talking about baby?" Wonwoo smirked.

"Eyyyy shut up you dirty minded weirdo I'm talking about the gloves you're wearing" you smacked his arm while the blush on your cheeks were becoming even more evident.

"Well yes love I'm gonna give you a ride to the bookstore because it's a little far away" Wonwoo squished your cheeks with both of his hands and planted a peck on your lips. You both put on your shoes and walked out of his apartment. Wonwoo locked the door and handed you your helmet. Wonwoo riding a bike was your favorite genre of Wonwoo. You found that really attractive of him for some reason. You also remember him, giving you a ride to your home because it was raining and you weren't carrying an umbrella. As cliche as it sounds like a scene from romantic dramas, that was the first ever time you saw him riding a bike and giving you a ride as well. You liked that feeling of holding someone close and resting your chin on their shoulder. And that someone became Wonwoo.

When you both reached the bookstore you saw it's an old bookstore and is a little dilapidated but it had its own beauty in its way.

"It's quite an old one, you know. I came across this a few days back while the night out with the guys" he said.

"Oh ohhh I see"

You both entered the bookstore and were greeted by an old man.

"Ahh we have a young couple as customers today! Good afternoon to you both. New books are on the ground floor, the second hand ones are upstairs" the old man may have aged a lot but he seemed to be very cheerful for his age which you really liked.

"Good afternoon grandpa and thank you" You both greeted him and went inside the bookstore. You felt a hand around your waist.

"We really do give off couple vibes huh"

"Yes honey we do! now coming to the point on what books we wanna buy"

"I'll guessing it's either a horror or a romantic one"

"No, I mean well yes that would differ if there's any book which grabs my attention and you're gonna follow me and hold the books" you smiled and if anything that made his heart melt.

"Why is she so cute, so enthusiastic about her interests, god I love her so much" He thought to himself.

"Wonu back to earth are you even listening?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I got it I heard what you said" He said.

You both started looking through the romance section first but didn't end up finding anything much interesting. Then you both went through the crime and thriller. It's like that's where the magic happens.

"Wonu wonu! Isn't this the locked room mystery novel you were searching for?" You held a book named "The Village of Eight Murders" by Seishi Yokomizo.

"Oh yess I was. There's also a fourth book, the last book of the series The Inugami Curse" He said and then took the book from your hand going through the pages.

"Found it!" You said after finding the fourth book. He raised his eyebrows and looked at you. "So are we.." you cut him off mid sentence "we're taking these two, hold them baby" you were happy to finally found the book he was searching for. He was happy too.

"Wonwoo?" you called him by his name, your voice was soft.

"Yes love" He said, his fingers still going over the titles of each book on the shelf he's looking through. You turned and looked at him.

"I wanna go upstairs" you said.

"Hmm alright let's go" he said while a soft smile lingered on his lips.

While going upstairs y'all heard the rain suddenly started pouring down.

"See I told you it will rain tomorrow around this time, now I want my kiss baby" Wonwoo said grinning.

"Nope you aren't getting any right now especially not when we are here standing inside a bookstore" You said with a playful smile on your face. The books upstairs were second hand books so it was common to come across the one's which might have damaged covers too. Wonwoo picked out a book for you.

"y/n isn't this the book you were talking about yesterday? Its cover is slightly torn though" Wonwoo handed you the book. It was "The Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro.

"Oh my God yesss! I'll buy this and we can glue that part you know" you said looking at the torn cover of the book he was holding.

"Yeah it's like how books helped me glue to you and we ended up in a relationship"

"My my aren't you being so cheesy for someone who's standing in the fiction aisle with me" You gave him a coy look and then went back searching through the shelf of books.

"Well then love what about kissing in the bookshops as well, like they do in the romance books"

A blush crept your cheeks and ears. You turned to look at him. He smiled looking at your flustered face, his eyes traveling back and forth on your eyes and then your lips.

"Since when did you become so romantic-" your sentence was cut off by him putting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to the side slowly. And then he pressed his lips against yours. A soft and warm kiss in the middle of a crispy old bookshop while the euphonious sound of the rain drizzling played outside. He pulled away shortly after but you chased for his lip even more.

"I always was and you're cute when you want more you know" he whispered, his cheeks slightly flushed now as well.

"Yes of course you are" you mumbled and pouted.

"We should check out these books, you know" you said.

"Yes love we will but let's just stay here until the rain slacks off" Wonwoo said as he took you by your hand and made your way to the couch placed on the right side of the room.

"Till then we'll sit here okay?" Wonwoo made himself comfortable sitting beside you.

"Yeah you're right" You said leaning on his shoulder.

Let's just say,he made your day a lot better than before.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A/n: my exams are finally over so yes I'm back and I'll write more ig. A lotta drafts are piled up literally. Also feedbacks and reblogs are really appreciated. I have proofread once but lemme know if there's any grammatical errors.

ALSO YES I WAS LITERALLY GIVING Y'ALL BOOK RECS THROUGH THIS CUZ DUH I'M AN ENGLISH MAJOR TOO.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt wonwoo #svt hip hop unit

306 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 8 days

Text

world war sibling

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

“you know, you kind of picked the worst spot for your first.” sukuna mumbles.

“that doesn’t help, sukuna. like in the slightest.”

sukuna retreats his original comment as the buzzing of the tattoo gun starts again, accompanied by your death-like grip on his hand and the tears spilling out of your eyes. and he almost feels bad for his slightly snide comment – which was intended to make you laugh – as he leans forward, wiping away the wetness and sweat on your forehead, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“you’re actually doing great, princess. i cried like a baby during my first.”

“yeah. it was fucking annoying.” toji mutters.

you laugh, earning you a smile from both toji and sukuna, as the former continues buzzing into your arm.

toji, who you can’t help but find familiar, is sukuna’s most trusted tattoo artist. upon their first meeting, he had bent the rules for sukuna at seventeen (i.e. legally under the age for a tattoo) and since then, had been one of sukuna’s favorite artists in the area.

and you could tell why sukuna liked him. he was quiet and serious – sukuna’s favorite type of person – but here and there, would offer some strange story about sukuna from years prior, that made the both of them smile when he recounted the memory.

long story short, he was yet another undercover sap. you were starting to think that sukuna had a type.

“did he really cry?” you ask.

“that’s rich coming from him – he picked a worse spot than you did. i had to stop and give him a break before i could continue.” toji mutters.

you bite down on your lip as you lean against sukuna’s shoulder, the stinging feeling on the inner part of your wrist making your heart race and your head pulsate, as he whispers into your ear, trying to distract you from the pain.

“are you excited for tonight?” sukuna asks.

“yeah.” you whisper.

“where are you going?” he asks.

you whimper in response, to which sukuna clicks his tongue, before asking again.

“the bar on sixteenth. they….oh my fucking god…they have happy hour after five.”

“figured i might as well ask you now before the four of you are drunk out of your mind.” sukuna scoffs.

after what was a painstakingly awkward conversation between you and yuuji three weeks prior, things were slowly returning back to normal, with the smallest of steps. the two of you went back to studying together, and the week prior, you had returned to your usual weekend plans of going out with him, megumi, and kugisaki again.

now and then he’d send you strange buzzfeed quizzes at three in the morning, you would send back pictures of cute dogs at work, and finally resumed your original plans of dinner at your parents every other week.

yuuji and sukuna had yet to cross paths again, except for the curt greetings they’d give each other when yuuji dropped you off or sukuna came to pick you up. sukuna hadn’t gotten over the fact that yuuji had punched you and yuuji…well, he was almost too embarrassed to show his face, let alone even ask for an apology.

yuuji was always like that, so in his head about whatever it was sukuna was thinking. and while normally, you’d encourage him to just talk it out – knowing how sukuna still felt about the entire thing meant that you had tabled trying to get them to get along for the time being.

“that’s it.” toji states, before pushing off of his rolling chair and rummaging through the drawer at his side.

you sit up, blinking the tears out of your eyes, as sukuna leans over your shoulder, the two of you admiring the bloody mess on the inside of your wrist, of a waterlily.

“it’s perfect, birthday girl.” sukuna whispers.

“you think my mom will kill me?” you ask.

“isn’t that kind of the point?”

you laugh as sukuna helps you off the chair and walks you over to the little stand, where toji wraps the area in plastic before walking over to ring you up. and it’s almost a joke – how quickly sukuna snatches your credit card from your fingers, before offering his own.

“i was going to use that.” you deadpan.

“it’s on me. it’s your birthday.”

“you know i don’t –”

“i know you don’t care about birthdays, doll. but i’m not a piece of shit. toji, i’m paying.”

the novelty of birthdays, parties, and celebrations seemed to wear off around the time that you turned twelve. a few embarrassing mishaps – like inviting twenty people to a bowling alley just to have only yuuji show up or not having anyone to invite at all the following year out of mortification led to an almost disdain towards the day.

and after that, the plan was always simple. the night of, the pair of you would go out – originally for ice cream, but those quickly transitioned into sugar sweet margaritas two years ago when you turned twenty-one. and while the plan with yuuji still standing for tonight, sukuna was afforded the entire morning and afternoon.

it was just another day. meaning you and sukuna were going to eat breakfast together – though you did think the little candle he put in your french toast was a cute touch – before heading to your tattoo appointment. he bought you a new pair of earrings and a ribbon for your hair, but only because he insisted that they reminded him of you earlier this week, and obviously had nothing to do with your birthday.

and it was perfect – you were going to walk over to the little arts and crafts store after your tattoo appointment, so you and sukuna could make bracelets together before you had to go to the bar with yuuji. it was yet another silly trend you had seen on tiktok – picking out beads that looked like your partner's eyes – and making bracelets out of them, and sukuna was all too quick to oblige.

sammy was supposed to stop over briefly at some point to drop off a gift and sukuna was going to tuck you into bed at the end of the night.

you could tell that he was trying really hard to contain it, whatever it was he was feeling over the fact that it was your birthday. because knowing him, if he had his way, he’d be going the entire ten miles and buying you a plethora of gifts and dinners if he could.

but it took a few talks for him to realize it actually made you really uncomfortable. which is the only reason he let you limit him to three gifts (a bridgerton season three mug, a new taylor swift vinyl, and another lingerie set, which he claimed was more for him than it was for you).

and though it was really simple – two red velvet cupcakes on a random park bench and a quiet night out, but you could still feel it. the excessive amounts of kisses he was placing on your shoulder and the way he was opening the doors, that he was trying his best to go above and beyond to make you feel special.

it was sweet. and quiet. just the way you liked it.

you swing open the apartment door to your worst nightmare.

the main room is decked out in streamers, balloons, and a pretty pink banner – all of which sukuna set up the night before when you fell asleep for your breakfast together. you thought it was a little bit over dramatic – decorating the entire place for just the two of you – but you have the slightest hunch that it was more for this.

“did you seriously invite all of them?” you whisper, balling your hands into fists at your side as they all cheer, running over to give you excited hugs.

instead of what you were promised – sammy stopping over briefly to bring you a gift – almost everyone you know is milling around in your apartment. yuuji, kugisaki, and megumi but also maki, gojo, sammy, and shoko.

even megumi’s sister is here.

sukuna mouths i had no idea as sammy walks up to your side, placing a shot in your hand.

“drink up, birthday girl!”

“i’m good, sam. you go ahead.”

“room is really tense. i’d take it if i were you.” sammy mumbles, before walking off.

yuuji walks up to your side, offering you a hug, before pulling back and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“i tried to stop it. but sister dearest insisted.” yuuji whispers.

“oh god, of course she did. did you tell her i would hate this?” you ask.

“i did. and then she said, ‘who hates birthdays?’ and invited everyone anyway.” yuuji responds, perfectly mimicking sammy’s high pitched voice.

you groan.

“did you mention the bowling alley?”

“i did. she responded by saying that means there’s more cake for us.”

yuuji offers you a pinched smile as sukuna snakes his hand across your shoulder, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i swear i had no idea.” sukuna whispers.

“i know. you know how sammy can be. goes a little overboard…kind of stubborn.” you respond.

“you have another problem.” yuuji states.

the two of you turn to your left, as yuuji lifts his hand and awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.

“you remember maki’s shitty sister?” yuuji asks.

“yeah.”

“she’s your sister’s girlfriend.”

you feel your throat dry as you dart your head to the left – to where kugisaki and maki are swirling a glass of lemonade in their hands with geto – and to then to the right where sammy is rubbing circles into mai’s back, the two of them talking in hushed tones with gojo.

“this city is too fucking small.” you mumble.

“is it that bad?” sukuna asks, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“that’s the understatement of the year. imagine me and sammy on…on like steroids.” you respond, miserably.

“alright, well. megumi and i did at least get sammy to get a cake from chaupain, so how about you just eat it in the corner while sukuna and i do damage control? we’ll just keep them away from each other and try to get them to leave as soon as possible.” yuuji asks.

yuuji looks past your shoulder to where sukuna is standing, waiting for a vote of approval. and given the fact that he basically feels like a fish in water at the current moment, he agrees.

“let’s see the tattoo.” megumi states.

you all but oblige, holding out your wrist for megumi and tsumiki to admire, watching as their attentive eyes note the needle work.

“this is beautiful. why the waterlily?” tsumiki asks.

you smile.

“like monet’s waterlilies. it’s one of my favorite art pieces.” you respond.

“that’s neat. it’s very pretty.” she responds, giving you a warm smile.

“where’d you get it? yuuji has been thinking about getting one.” megumi asks.

“downtown. there’s a tattoo parlor across from that bar that we did glee trivia at once.”

you watch as tsumiki and megumi give each other a look, the former pulling her soft featherlike touch away from your wrist and crossing her arms over her chest.

“who did your tattoo?” megumi asks.

“oh. he’s just some guy sukuna’s friends with. he’s been going to him since he was like seventeen..”

megumi clenches his jaw, before placing his hands at his side.

“black hair, scar near his lip?”

you pause.

“yeah. his name is toji. do you know him or something?” you ask.

“something like that.” megumi responds, before shuffling off towards the drinks.

tsumiki gives you an almost apologetic smile, before leaning forward and whispering in your ear.

“don’t take it personal. he’s our dad.”

“your…”

“yes, our deadbeat dad. it is rather off putting finding out that he’s had money…or you know, a job this entire time, and friends, when we’ve been trying to make ends meet forever. we always had a hunch that he was there but you know, kind of confirms it if you were there this morning.”

you pinch your eyes shut, before placing a hand on her shoulder.

“i’m so sorry.” you mumble.

“you didn’t know. i’m going to check on megumi, though, if that’s okay? you know how he can be.”

“please.”

you drag your tired legs to the corner of the kitchen island, pouring yourself a shot, before slumping down into the chair. and your very futile efforts of getting a second to yourself are all but squashed when you find satoru at your side, sliding a slice of cake your way.

“hi birthday girl.”

you sigh.

“hi satoru. thank you for coming.”

“i do suppose i should apologize for showing up. i didn’t realize you hate birthdays.”

“i don’t hate them, it’s just…the big party thing. not really my jam. for obvious reasons. i just accidentally brought up someone’s deadbeat dad and somehow brought together the most homicidal pair of sisters in japan into my apartment.” you respond.

satoru smiles in response, looking out to the group of them as well.

“it’s basically world war sibling in here right now. but your boys are handling the sisters decently well. and….getting along for once.”

you smile, looking over at sukuna and sammy on the left.

“i know, right? it’s actually kind of cute. they keep looking over at each other every few minutes and giving each other thumbs up to confirm it’s still going good.” you mumble.

“kind of expected. both of them are half responsible for making your worst nightmare happen on your birthday of all days, it makes sense that they’d put their shit aside for one second to make it at least a little bit better.” satoru states.

sukuna looks over at you, shooting you a weary glance – like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling – which you shake off.

“plus, at some point, they’re going to realize that it’s better for both of their interests to get along again. maybe this is when it’ll happen and then something good will come out of your birthday.” satoru adds.

you pause, looking down to continue demolishing the frosting of the cake with the fork.

“you’re quite hopeful.”

“i mean, yeah. they’re brothers and they were starting to get close again and that’s part of it. but at some point, they’re going to understand that it’s going to cause a real block for both of them if they continue acting the way they do. sukuna’s your boyfriend but yuuji’s been the first person you’ve gone to your entire life. can’t exactly give one up for the other.”

you smile.

“you think about this an awful lot, don’t you?”

“suguru and i talk about it in bed every night before we go to sleep. it is riveting.” satoru affirms.

“i’m glad we could provide some entertainment for you.” you respond, giving him a smile.

in the three seconds you look away, whatever tension that was boiling in the room seems to come to a head, when maki and mai seemed to have both reached for the last piece of cake – and both of their guard dogs, kugisaki and sammy, were ready to fight over it.

“just split it in fucking half.” sukuna mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“that’s a great idea! i’ll do it for you guys, here.” yuuji responds, before getting four pairs of irritated eyes staring at him, as he retreats his hands.

you sigh as you walk up to their sides, satoru on your heels, as you take the spot in between sukuna and yuuji. the two of them give you a pinched smile that barely meets their eyes.

“i didn’t eat the slice that gojo brought me yet. you’re more than welcome to take mine.” you offer.

“okay yeah, that’s fine. you guys can take the leftovers.” sammy responds.

kugisaki rolls her eyes.

“why should we take it? we reached for it first.” kugisaki mutters.

mai turns to sammy, shaking her head.

“it’s fine, sammy. you guys have it.” mai responds.

“typical. trying to take the higher ground to look good, aren’t you?” maki asks.

“well, leave it to you to make a scene at your friend’s birthday party.” mai mutters back.

maki scoffs.

“she’s your girlfriend’s sister. you’re just trying to do the right thing to look a certain way, like you always fucking do. it’s the same shit you do with our parents and –” maki starts.

“okay, guys. there’s kind of a time and place for this type of thing and –” yuuji starts.

“shut up, yuuji.” kugisaki and maki shout in unison.

sukuna clenches his jaw.

“okay, seriously. that’s enough. just take a beat and walk away. all four of you.” sukuna mutters, as the two of them walk off.

sukuna’s tone is intimidating enough to get all of them to back off. and you lean back against the counter, watching as they both sulk off into their respective corners, as you rub the sides of your temples. sammy joins you at your side, taking an awkwardly long sip of her lemonade, as you sigh.

“are you going to take yuuji and sukuna’s advice next time? i really do hate birthday parties.” you ask.

sammy turns to her side, her eyes incredulous.

“you can’t be serious. you’re not blaming that on me, right?” sammy asks.

you widen your eyes.

“what?”

“i was just trying to do a nice thing for you. all of these people wanted to see you, for your birthday, and you were just kind of side sweeping all of them. how was i supposed to know that mai’s sister was going to be here?”

you groan.

“i was obviously joking, sammy. trying to lighten the mood and all.”

“you’re the queen of passive aggressiveness. i know you weren’t. god forbid, we can’t all be like your boy toys and spend our entire life trying to read your mind since you can’t seem to say whatever is on it.”

you roll your eyes.

“so what if i wasn’t joking? you clearly need to hear it when all you do is just what you think is best. i wasn’t side sweeping any of them, most of them would have understood if i just wanted to spend the day the way i usually do.”

yuuji tries to interject.

“listen. i think we’re all feeling a lot of things right now –”

“you don’t have to read my mind when there were two people right there telling you that i would have hated it. you just purposely chose not to listen.” you finish.

“you’re shitty. i was just trying to be nice. and then you wonder why i never want to talk to you.”

yuuji can tell it stings from the way your face falls.

“sammy, come on. it’s –” yuuji starts.

you suppose you should be thankful that no one got injured this time. because in the split second that sammy tries to shove yuuji away and tell him to butt out of it, he accidentally backs his elbow into the little rack, sending two of the mugs shattering to the floor.

it takes one peak to realize that one of them is the one sukuna quite literally unboxed for you this morning. you didn’t even have a chance to use it.

you turn to sukuna, who gives you what might be the most irritated look you’ve ever seen him muster, before he shuffles towards the closet for the broom. you’re sure that sammy takes some type of hint that it’s time for her to go and geto’s able to wrangle the rest of them to leave too as sukuna shuffles up the glass.

it’s a quick exodus after that, the room so tense with the heat in the air that almost everyone was scrambling to get out to take a breath. sukuna isn’t halfway to closing the door on geto and gojo when the tears start bubbling out of your eyes, warm and hot on your cheeks.

“oh, angel. come here.” sukuna whispers, opening up his arms as you dig your forehead into his shoulder.

you can hear yuuji shuffling behind the two of you, boxing the last of the leftovers, as you cry into sukuna’s shoulder, making a considerably large snot and tear filled stain on your shirt.

“i hate my birthday. this is…this is so fucking stupid, sukuna.”

sukuna rubs circles into your back, before wrapping his hand around your cheek and wiping the mess of glitter and tears away.

“like, i know i shouldn’t expect much but i just wanted to have a nice day. it’s so stupid that sammy’s so stubborn that she invited everyone. and i know i should have had fun but…but everything just kept going wrong.”

sukuna can tell that you’re subconsciously reaching for your hair, pulling down on your locks and pulling out strays. because while you had left your picking at your skin habits for bad moments, you seemed to angrily pull at your head when you were tense.

“turn around.” sukuna murmurs, as you heave a sigh and continue your rant as sukuna tasks himself with braiding your hair.

“toji is megumi’s dad. and now i’m scared i made him feel like shit by bringing it up. and i know i didn’t do anything wrong but if someone just randomly brought up my deadbeat dad i wouldn’t feel great about it either.”

“i’m sure he’s not mad at you, baby.” sukuna offers.

“and fucking sammy. we were just getting along but…but she always does shit like this. i wasn’t blaming her for what happened, but i damn well could have. if literally the two people who know me the best are teling you that i wouldn’t enjoy this, why would you go ahead and do it anyways? and then on top of that, a whole fucking scene where she ended up yelling at me.”

“do you want me to kill her?”

“would you? she pushed yuuji and it broke our mugs.”

sukuna finishes the end of the braid and secures it with an elastic, before placing his hands on your shoulder and swinging you back around to face him.

“i’ll get you another one.”

“aren’t they limited edition?”

“i’ll bid on ebay. it’s not a big deal.”

“sukuna.”

“i had to bid on the first two on ebay anyways. i can literally just do it again baby, it’s not a big deal.”

two feet away, yuuji feels like he’s intruding. and living in an alternate universe. because it’s the first time he’s seen you like this with someone else – venting so openly, accepting his affections so freely as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulls at your wrists to stop you from picking at your skin.

and sukuna seems like an entire stranger. brushing his fingers against your cheek so gently, the tone in his voice so uncharacteristically soft as he tries to comfort you. bidding on flowery mugs on ebay, braiding your hair to get you to stop pulling at it.

yuuji feels guilty. maybe he really did have it all wrong. because the things that sukuna was doing were so arbitrary, but they were making all the difference at curbing the tears pouring out of your eyes.

maybe he just didn't get it.

“now mention the good things.” sukuna states.

you glare at him.

“there are no good things.”

sukuna spares a glance over his shoulder to yuuji, gesturing for him to join, before looking back at you.

“really? you can’t even think of one?”

yuuji catches his drift as he walks up to your side, slinging his arm around your shoulder.

“you’re a smart girl. you can figure it out.” yuuji offers.

you roll your eyes.

“and now you two are ganging up on me. is this really the time?”

the two of them laugh, even more delighted when you crack a smile for the first time in hours, before the two of them give each other a nod and wrap both of their arms around you.

“still nothing good?” yuuji asks.

“nope. you’re both crushing me to death. and you smell.”

sukuna presses a kiss to your forehead and yuuji pinches at the side of your cheek.

“how about now?” sukuna asks.

“you guys are kind of annoying, you know that?”

you pull back, placing a hand on both of their shoulders, and darting your eyes between the two of them.

“are you guys being buddies for my birthday or are you actually making up?”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“obviously the latter. we aren’t sisters.”

“you’re fucking kidding. like the two of you are any better.” you state.

yuuji scoffs.

“they broke two whole fucking ceramic mug. and ruined a birthday party. sisters are a whole different ballpark.”

“you punched me in the face and ruined a family dinner. how is that any different?”

sukuna and yuuji both scoff, before yuuji reaches forward to pinch your cheek.

“are you going to hold that over my head forever?”

“basically. for both of you actually.”

sukuna shuffles over to the fridge, tasking himself with stacking the freshly made boxes of cake in the fridge.

“i think we’ll live.”

three days later, with all the leftover heaviness from your birthday gone, yuuji takes you out for drinks on your birthday. and while sammy gave you a halfhearted apology, you swallowed it down for the tiem being and let it go.

things were well – with yuuji and sukuna getting along and things being somewhat on the come up with sammy. though that feeling only lasts a few hours before sukuna sends you six calls, the seventh of which you finally answer when you make your way out of the bar.

“hi sukuna. you okay?”

you hear a sniffle on the other side of the phone.

“how drunk are you?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“what?”

“can you drive or do i need to come get you guys?”

you cover your free ear with your hand, trying to tune out the blaring music, as you press the phone against your ear harder.

“i can drive, i barely had half of my margarita. is everything –”

“you need to come to my mom’s house. as soon as possible. leave now.”

“is everything fi –”

“my dad is dead. as soon as you can, y/n.”

next part linked here

an: ok my set up was done sorry for this ass chapter again the next few will be considerably better since i've been planning them out properly

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @wishmemel @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

267 notes · View notes

ilytoru · 6 days

Text

i wonder what i look like in your eyes.

gojo ⋮ geto ⋮ sukuna ⋮ toji ⭑ how they see you and what you are to them.

¡! wc: 1.1k

¡! genre: tooth-rotting fluff, awful + contagious cases of lovesick men, you're literally their reason for existence

¡! an: in the mood to b worshipped idk....

☆ - satoru gojo ⋮ a nebula

when it comes to satoru, he's always been alone in his orbit. a level of his own. he's a god among the mortal race; both blessed and cursed to walk the earth. he's his own galaxy - the brightest and the boldest.

yet his galaxy is unbearably lonely. it's expansive, a cosmic canvas of infinite possibilites. it's an inky black celestial wonder, one that leaves a hollow feeling in his chest.

until he meets you, and you become the only being in existence allowed to orbit with him. you're his nebula, chaotic and disorted yet so effortlessly the most beautiful element of his galaxy.

you blaze in brilliant, radiant light; core searing it's permeant place in the midnight backdrop. you illuminate the space with shades of the deepest indigo and violets, mingled with wisps of turquoise and teal. crimson and oranges are vibrant in your centre.

the colour stretches into the void forming intricate patters, ones he finds himself untangling to better understand you.

in the silence of space, your nebula spoke volumes; comforting him at his worst, lulling his mind into dreamless sleep. your edges are softer, the colours more muted as you bleed into him. no one can tell where you begin and he ends.

you are so so small in comparison to the void, but so unbearably bright that you light it all with practiced ease. he tends to watch in awe as you decorate his solar system; nursing new stars to weave into his soul.

with you there, his universe becomes easier to live in, easier to navigate. you're a cloud of interstellar stardust - held together by the gravitational attraction of satoru's galaxy.

☆ - suguru geto ⋮ the artist

to suguru, you're the best thing that's happened to him. ever.

anyone who sees him with you knows. they know he's infatuated, enamoured. he's so far gone that people often think that he's been blinded by love, but he has simply never felt an emotion so intense.

with you he thinks he truly sees the world in all it's glory, innocent and pure. with you he traverses unpolluted by the atrocities of the world, you who colours his world.

he looks at you like you personally hang the stars in the sky when night rolls around, like you paint the sorbet sunsets by hand. he stares at you adoringly, as if you chose the colour of the sea and dusted white on the peaks of mountains to keep them warm.

he peers at you like you solely gift the flowers with their petals, dipping them in shades you deem beautiful enough. like you create the sand from scratch and lay it in pretty semi-lunar shapes next to the ocean.

he gazes at you like diamonds were invented in tribute to your tears, like you drew the prettiest landscapes alone in the quiet, before the age of humanity.

he studies you like you've sculpted the very shape of his heart - every ventricle and atrium handcrafted with your pretty fingers. as if his very existence was molded by you, hence why you fit so perfectly together; two pieces of a puzzle.

he could stare at you for hours and days on end, eyes full of love for the person who introduces him to a plethora of hues and tones that he imprints on the back of his eyelids when he sleeps.

☆ - ryomen sukuna ⋮ the breath of life

sukuna is not a good person. everybody knows that. he's taken innocent lives, sapping their energy like it's nothing. he's all-powerful; he stands amongst the deities - gods who have the capacity to bend fate to their will.

but after millennia of having everything under his rule, he's gotten bored. he has servants to order as he pleases but nothing they do entertains him. the god of death is bored, embarrassingly so.

until he acquires something known as a significant other, the other half of his soul as the humans say. you're his breath of life, a release of old, stagnant energy. it's as if you breathe vitality into everything you touch, all life forms flocking to you naturally.

you're so much softer than he, touch delicate yet profound, an ethereal caress that lights sparks in his eyes. he tends to linger quietly by your side when you walk in the garden he constructed just for you - though he would never tell you that.

wildflowers are coaxed into bloom with you around, their colours a testament to your nurturing touch. the dew-laden grass basks in your presence, gleaming a shade brighter than before. even the trees seem to gravitate toward you, branches reaching for you as you pass by, their leaves sighing in contentment.

sukuna's convinced the waves follow your pace, each push and pull matches your breathing.

you were the essence of renewal. his world had found it's pulse, it's rhythm, as you dance the unending dance of life in the centre. you sustain his beating heart, so sukuna's oddly content with merely watching.

☆ - toji fushiguro ⋮ a lover

toji sees you as not only a lover, but the lover. the only one he will have in this life and the next. there's no after you. it's a forever kinda thing.

something so simple as the title of 'lover' is so complex for toji, a man who's a veteran assassin, a man who previously had no regard for anyone else.

you're the only person toji promises to protect, to never lie to, to make happy for as long as his heart pumps and his chest rises with each breath. you're a miracle gifted to him by the gods - though he doesn't know what he's done to deserve it.

he's rough around the edges but with your standing as 'lover', you smooth him out.

he subconsciously thinks of you, always worrying for your satefy. you must be a deep ocean of the emotion known as 'passion' because he's willingly drowning, not even looking for shore.

toji looks at you like you're an extension of himself, the other half of him that the deities intended for him to find. he can't remember times before you or imagine a future without you.

he makes a deal of reminding you that you are his, just as he is completely and utterly yours. as his lover you hold his bloody, beating heart in your hands; he knows you'll keep it safe.

he stares at you like you'll disappear; like he's not even sure you actually exist. you love a man like him after all - that's a miracle in itself.

©ilytoru 2024

249 notes · View notes

tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— bunny

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, neighbours!au. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 7.2k

summary: after leaving your toxic relationship, you and your bunny are completely alone in the world—until your soft spoken neighbour slowly brings down your walls.

a/n: reached 1k since i last posted. thank you for following, i appreciate you. this is my longest yet, i really hope you like it.

afab!reader. protected intercourse. strength kink. subtle praise kink. hand job. thigh riding. protective behaviour. emotional hurt/comfort. reader has a toxic emotionally abusive ex (he doesn't make an appearance apart from a short phone call). reader is jumpy around loud noises as a result.

You weren’t alone, you had Jack. Your pet rabbit was the only good thing to come out of your relationship with your ex. He’d given you the baby bunny for your last birthday and you’d quickly fallen in love, naming him after the only family you’d ever known—your grandpa. After he’d passed your ex had come along and—in your vulnerable state—you’d sapped up the affection without hesitation. It was a mistake. He was loud, quick to anger and you’d ended up feeling like you’d taken on another responsibility rather than finding someone to free you from your loneliness. It had taken you far too long to work up the courage to venture out into the world alone, but you’d done it. You were here. Your small ground level apartment had a tiny enclosed patch of grass out the back. It was enough for Jack to have some outside time and it was enough for you to finally get some peace. You weren’t alone, you had Jack. You and your bunny in your small ground floor apartment.

You’d only moved out from your ex’s place a week ago. He was still calling at least once a day. He wanted to know where your place was so he could ‘check up on you’. You were working up the courage to block his number. You knew he couldn’t find you and you wouldn’t have to deal with any shouting when he realised—but the logic didn’t override your anxiety. So, you were working up to it.

Downsides to your new move? It was much farther away from your work. You also had to drive a route which was renowned for having terrible traffic. You’d been late more in the past week than you had in the previous 6 months. It was for this reason you were rushing down the driveway, eyes on the maps app in your phone to check the latest traffic conditions. You weren’t looking where you should’ve been, in front of you. It was entirely your fault when you collided with the man unfortunate enough to find himself in your path. He grunted as you collided with his chest, cold liquid spilling from the cup in his hand—soaking the both of you.

“Oh, shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, ” you rushed out as you scrambled to fish the small tissue packet from your bag, “I’m so stupid. I’m so sorry.” You dropped your bag on the ground, dropping into a crouch as you frantically searched. You threw random belongings out onto the ground around you as you dug. Where the fuck were they? A soft touch on your arm startled you. You looked up at the face of the man you’d crashed into for the first time. He was crouched down in front of you, his doe eyes showing no trace of anger.

“Hey, it’s alright,” his tone was soft, so soft and calm compared to your frantic muttering, “I’m fine, really. The coffee was crap this morning anyway.” He offered you a small smile before beginning to collect your scattered items and tucking them gently into your bag.

“I-I spilled it all over your shirt.”

“It’ll wash.” He handed you your phone and you gingerly took it from his fingers—careful not to touch him. “You’re in a rush, so I won’t hold you up. I’m Minho, I think we’re neighbours.”

You grabbed your bag and stood, looking back to the apartment neighbouring yours.

“Number 55?”

“Mm.”

“Oh.” You rocked back and forth, failing to look him in the eyes again.

“You’re in a rush,” he repeated again, noticing your fidgeting.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Have a nice day, then,” he said, grabbing his cup from the ground. You managed to look at his face to offer him a polite smile and then you made a run for it. It wasn’t until you were sitting in the car, gripping the steering wheel, that you realised you had coffee all over your white work shirt.

Jack loved his little garden. The day you moved in you’d neglected unpacking for inspecting the fence for any gaps or spots he could dig his way out of. You wanted to let him explore while the sun was still up. He’d explored the small yard as you watched, a small smile on your face. You made time everyday to sit outside in the afternoon sun and watch him explore his little patch of earth. He’d always bounce over to you when he was ready and you’d scoop him into your arms.

Minho greeted you every morning as you left for work. He was always sitting on a bench in front of his apartment, iced coffee in his hand. He never looked like he had anywhere to be and on days when you weren’t rushing to beat traffic you’d stop and entertain his small talk. You’d managed to recover from your initial blunder, introducing yourself properly and apologising again for your clumsiness. He always spoke in soft tones, easing you into a sort of familiarity and comfort with him. He was the only person you saw regularly outside work. All your friends had also been your ex’s friends. You’d left them behind along with the relationship, not wanting to risk your new address getting back to him. You were used to being alone anyway.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking a sip from his oversized cup. He had one arm up over the back of the bench, his legs spread apart—looking like he had no worries in the world. You hadn’t asked him what he did for work. You figured he’d offer up the personal information he was comfortable sharing. So far you knew he had three cats—you’d quickly asked if they were outside cats, worried about your bunny’s outdoor time. He said he let them out to sunbake occasionally but he supervised and they’d never attempted to climb the fence. That was when you’d told him about Jack. His eyes had lit up, leaning forward on the bench and asking you what breed he was, how old, promising he’d kept his cats inside when Jack was out. That was the day you’d truly softened to him, letting your stubborn walls down a little.

“Good morning,” you greeted in return, handing him one of the blueberry muffins you’d made the afternoon before.

“Blueberry today?”

“They were on sale at the market.”

“I love blueberries,” he commented before taking a huge bite. “It’s good,” he mumbled around his mouthful.

“Good,” you smiled, watching him close his eyes as he finished chewing.

“You can’t move out suddenly and leave me without your muffins, I've formed an dependance,” he said casually before taking another bite.

“They aren’t that good,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed. He talked them up too much. Your grandpa’s baking? That was good. Movement out the corner of your eye drew your attention to the end of the driveway. A group of kids were hovering. One of them pointed in your direction.

“Hey!” Minho’s shout made you jump, dropping your car keys. “Get out of here!” He stood up and waved them off, muffin in hand. You snatched your keys off the ground and backed up down the two small steps, away from the bench Minho was standing at. He directed his attention to you as you took another small step back—his brows drawing together a little as you made eye contact. “You alright?” he asked, taking a small step towards you.

“Yeah, I-I’ve gotta go.” You rushed to your car, throwing your bag into the passenger seat and quickly glancing into the rear view mirror. He was still standing there, coffee in one hand, your blueberry muffin in the other.

You were stupid. So, so stupid. You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and took a deep breath before banging on Minho’s door. It was about to get dark and you needed all the help you could get. You sniffed as the door swung open, Minho stood with one of his cats in his arms.

‘I left the door open, I-I’m so stupid, I don’t know how-I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, placing the cat down and taking a step towards you, “What's wrong? What happened? Take a deep breath, you’re alright,” his voice was gentle, as soft as you’d ever heard it. You took a slow deep breath, in and out.

“I lost Jack. I went out to get something from my car and I guess I didn’t shut the front door properly and I can’t find him and I think he’s gone and it’s getting dark. I’m so stupid, I can’t—”

“It’s alright,” he interrupted as you began to panic again, “we’ll find him. Just—Just give me a second, okay?” He rushed back into his apartment, leaving the door open as you stood in the doorway. The cat he’d been holding in his arms sat a few steps into the apartment—watching you attempt to hold back your tears.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your voice shaky. He blinked at you and then walked over to nuzzle his head against your leg. You crouched to scratch his chin, coaxing out a soft purr. You’d always wanted a cat when you were little. Your boyfriend was allergic so you’d quickly put it out of your mind, and then Jack came along.

“That’s Soonie,” Minho said, reappearing wearing a fleece jumper and carrying a torch, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you replied, looking back down at the purring cat, “Do you—Do you think we’ll find him? I-I can’t lose him.”

“We’ll find him,” he sounded confident, like he really believed it.

You pressed your face into Soonie’s fur before standing, watching Minho tie his laces. His hair was ruffled, like he’d woken from sleep. One small tuft stuck straight up from the centre of his head. You resisted the urge to smooth it down.

“You searched your whole place?” he asked as he stood, grabbing the torch and pulling the door shut as he stepped outside. You watched him lock the door.

“I keep all the doors shut so he’s only loose in the hallway… the only way out was the front door…”

“You’re sure?”

“I was sitting in the hallway with him with all the doors shut, my phone started dying and I remembered I left my charger in the car… I-I thought I closed the door but when I got back it was cracked open.”

“Okay, let’s check around here first.” He offered you a small smile then stuffed the torch in his coat pocket and hopped down the steps to begin searching. “Jack,” he called, hunched over so he could scan through the bushing lining the driveway. You searched the bushes on the other side, calling your bunny’s name periodically. He was very affectionate. The way he’d hop over to you when you took him out in the yard gave you a sliver of hope that he’d appear any second, finished with his adventure. When you reached the end of the driveway with no result you looked down to the end of the street, the cul-de-sac offered at least an end point. If he’d gone the other way and ended up on the main street…

“Let’s go this way,” Minho announced, finished with the search down his side of the driveway. He began walking down towards the dead end, calling out Jack’s name in his soft tone. If the bunny would come to anything, it would be his placating tones.

The further you got to the end of the street the more your panic grew. Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest any second. When the end came and Minho turned to find you grasping your chest and struggling to control your breathing he took three quick steps towards you. His hand came up towards you before dropping back to his side.

“We’ll find him,” he said. He didn’t sound sure anymore.

“Oh god,” you sobbed, covering your face. “I can’t—”

“Please—Please don’t cry. We’ll find him.”

“He’s gone.”

“You’re his family, he won’t go far. He was probably following you and got distracted, hm? He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

You lifted your hands from your face to find him much closer than you expected. He pulled the sleeve down on his fleece jumper and used it to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You watched his eyes as he worked, they were always so expressive. Like he was so full of feeling all the time they couldn’t contain it.

“We’ll walk to the other end of the street and then head back, yeah? It’ll be getting dark soon,” he said when he was done, smoothing his hand back over his hair. The little tuft was flattened.

You followed him down the street, taking turns calling out. Minho would turn around occasionally, as if you’d somehow get lost walking to the end of your own street. By the time you got back to your driveway Minho had pulled out his torch, flicking it on and scanning around as he called. You stopped half way down the drive, not ready to face entering your apartment alone. You took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself, as you watched Minho reach the two small steps up to your front doors. He dropped into a crouch and pulled something from his pocket. You took a small step forward and then he was standing again, turning to face you. He was holding something. You ran.

“He was scratching at your door,” Minho spoke softly, feeding Jack a stick of celery he must’ve been keeping in his pocket, “Told you he’d come home,” he smiled, handing the small rabbit over to you gently.

“I’m sorry,” you held the bunny to your chest, “I’m sorry, baby. You’re such a good boy.” Tears burned your throat as you held back your sobs—sick of crying. You looked up at your neighbour. “Thank you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to speak any louder.

“I didn’t do anything, he came back on his own,” he smiled. “He must love you.”

“No I-I really mean it. Thank you. I… I would’ve had a total breakdown without your help. You make me…feel calm.”

“You cried,” he said, a small smile still on his face.

“That was calm compared to how I would’ve been otherwise, trust me.” You looked up at your apartment, then to the man in front of you. “Would you… like to come in for a bit? I have some muffins left—to say thank you.”

“Alright,” he said after a moment, reaching over to pet Jack softly. “I can’t say no to one of your muffins.”

He was sitting at the other end of your small couch, Jack in his lap and muffin wrapper on the cushion beside him. “I wanted to ask you about this morning. I think—I think I made you uncomfortable,” he said, eyes fixed on the bunny in his lap.

You adjusted yourself a little at your end of the couch. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just—I don’t… like loud noises, I guess.”

“When I shouted at the kids?” he said, looking up at you.

“Mm. Shouting specifically gets me, I think.”

He stroked Jack softly before speaking, “They threw pebbles at one of my cats.”

“What?”

“Dori was sleeping out the front with me and I went inside for a minute and when I came back those kids were throwing pebbles at him,” he said, still looking at you. It was the first time you’d recognised anger in his eyes.

“Was he alright?”

“Yeah, just a little spooked,” he said, dropping his eyes back to the small bunny in his lap, “I chased them down the driveway and said… a few things to scare them off.”

“Well… I can see why you shouted this morning then.”

“It won’t happen again. I don’t—I didn’t like the way you looked at me after.”

You dropped your eyes to the cushion in your lap before speaking, “I wasn’t—I wasn’t afraid of you, just a little startled.”

“Still. I won’t shout again.”

The next morning there was a knock on your door as you were making your morning coffee. On Saturdays you enjoyed doing absolutely nothing. You puledl your sleep shorts down your thighs a little as you walked to the door. They were short enough that they hid under the hem of your oversized shirt. You peeked through the spyhole. Minho stood on the other side, rocking back and forth on his heels. You pulled your shorts down as much as you could, hoping he wouldn’t think you weren’t wearing pants at all.

“Morning,” you greeted as you swung the door open. His eyes dropped to your legs before snapping back to your face.

“Uh, sorry. I know it’s early but I just got back from the market and I went a bit overboard on the veg. I thought… Jack might like some?” He held up a grocery bag. “They’re organic.”

“Oh! That’s… really nice of you. Thank you, he’ll love it.” You reached out to take the bag from him, it was heavy. Overboard? It was enough vegetables to feed you and a family of rabbits for a week.

“No problem,” he said, arms dropping back to his sides.

“I’m just making some coffee if you wanna come in?”

His eyes flicked down to your legs and back up again, “I-I don’t wanna disturb you.”

“No, it’s really fine. I’m not busy,” you held the door open and stood aside.

“You got any muffins left?”

“Blueberry.”

“Alright, then,” he said, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside—kicking his slippers off to reveal a pair of socks with little cat faces covering them.

Apparently he had a routine—every Saturday after that he knocks on your door with a bag full of vegetables. He keeps you so well stocked you’ve stopped having to buy any at all, there’s enough for both you and Jack. You make sure you have enough muffins to offer him with his iced coffee every week.

Today your phone has been ringing non-stop. You assume something must’ve happened in your ex’s life to trigger it. You hadn’t had a call from him in weeks. Minho looked at your phone each time you silenced one of the calls until finally he spoke up, “Spam calls?”

“No, just… someone I need to block.”

“Why haven’t you?” he asked, fiddling with a muffin wrapper.

“I thought—I thought maybe I was working up the courage to block him but… I think maybe I’m working up the courage to answer. I think I need to say something before I can block him.”

“Would me being here help?”

“I… don’t know. It might get ugly,” you cringed.

“I can handle it.”

Your phone vibrated again. You looked between the phone and Minho. His lips curved into a small encouraging smile. You picked up the phone and answered, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“We broke up. I’ve been living my own life.”

“Can you just—just tell me where you are, I need to see you. You need me, too. I know you do. You’re alone.”

You took a deep breath before unloading, “No, I’m not giving you my address and I don’t want to see you. You’re an angry, lazy fuckhead and I hope the next girl who comes across you sees right through you. Fuck you. I’m not talking about this again. Don’t call me, ever. This is done. We are done. I don’t need you anymore…and I’m not alone.”

“Don’t be a—” You ended the call and blocked his number quickly before dropping your phone on the table. You took a slow deep breath, attempting to calm your racing heart.

“You did good,” Minho’s soft voice broke through your building panic. You looked up at him across the table. He laid his hand over yours gently—you were shaking.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Later that week you were wearily walking towards your front door—completely exhausted—when you noticed your front door cracked open. You’d been at work all day, there was no one else with a key. You took a small step forward to push it open before stopping yourself. What if someone was inside? Your ex? You backed up towards Minho’s door. You were scared to knock, the noise might alert someone in your apartment to your presence. You pulled your phone out and texted him, asking him to come to his door. He read your message seconds after you sent it and then a minute or two later he was at the door. Before he could get a word out you pushed him inside—palm pressed to his chest—and shut his door quickly behind you.

“There’s someone in my apartment,” you rushed out, “Jack, I need to check Jack.”

“What? What do you mean someone’s in your apartment? Are you okay?”

“I just got home and the door’s open, I definitely locked it. I locked it.”

“Okay, okay. I need…” He turned and disappeared out to his backyard, returning with a shovel. He’d shown you his small vegetable patch just after your phone call with your ex. You helped him garden the rest of the afternoon. The calming activity and the easy conversation eased your anxiety completely.

“What are you gonna do with that?”

He looked at the shovel in his hand then back to you, “I-I dunno. Just in case.” He pulled his door open and you followed him to your door. He held his hand out behind him, keeping you a few steps back. You watched him push the door open and waited a moment, both of you silent as you listened carefully for any movement. Nothing. He crept inside—you following close behind. You both headed straight for the living room, Jack was fine. He was in his pen, chewing on a piece of hay. You pulled him out, holding him against your chest as you followed Minho through the rest of your apartment. You took note of anything valuable as you went, everything seemed to be in its place. You’d locked the door. You were positive. Everytime you stepped out the front door you replayed the night Jack got out—making you hyper aware of your actions.

“I locked it,” you reiterated as you finished your search.

“I believe you,” Minho answered, shovel still in hand. “You should stay at my place tonight—get your locks changed tomorrow. Do you think it could’ve been your ex?”

You hesitated before speaking, “I-I didn’t tell him where I live.”

“But if he did know…is this something he’d do?”

“Maybe,” you answered, no hesitation this time.

He moved the shovel to his other hand and ran his fingers through his hair. “Where does he live?”

“What?”

“This guy. What’s his address?”

“Why?”

He sighed and then collapsed onto the couch behind him, dropping the shovel on the floor as he went. “I’ll make sure the cats are kept in a room overnight if you wanna grab Jack’s stuff. Do you need help carrying anything?”

“No, I've got it. I’ll just bring his travel cage.” You watched him drop his head into his hands, leaning forward. “I can stay somewhere else, I don’t want to bother you.” You didn’t know how you’d sneak a rabbit into a hotel but you’d manage.

He lifted his head, expression soft again. “No, no. Stay with me.”

You held your breath, attempting not to read into his words. “Alright,” you breathed. “Can you hold Jack for me?”

He reached up to gently take him from your arms, placing the small bunny in his lap and leaning back into the couch. You left the two of them there to collect everything you needed overnight.

Minho had locked his cats in his living room as you set Jack up in the laundry. Three different doors separating them. You spoke to Jack as you set up his travel cage with everything he’d need, “We’ll just be here tonight, okay? You’re safe here, promise. Maybe tomorrow Minho will let you have a look at his garden.”

“If he promises not to dig it up,” Minho’s voice behind you made you jump. He laughed a little, “Sorry.”

“God, you're always slinking around like a cat. I never hear you coming.”

“They’re confined and grumpy about it but they’ll survive,” he said, having returned from confining his three babies for the night.

“Will they ever forgive me?”

“It’s not your fault. They love you anyway.”

“It’s a bit my fault.”

He took a small step into the cramped laundry room. “It’s not, at all.”

“Thank you for this… and for everything else. You’re always—I mean I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have more muffins,” he smirked.

“If the price I have to pay is a few muffins, I’m getting a very good deal.”

He was quiet for a moment. You tried to decipher the look in his eyes before he spoke again, “I’ve got you—you know that, right? Muffins or not, I’m here.”

You smiled, “Even if I quit baking tomorrow?”

“Even then.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends, I care about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And I thought you were just hanging around for the muffins,” you grinned.

“Maybe at first. They’re like catnip.”

He grunted, putting on a show as he caught the punching bag. “There you go, you’re getting it,” he laughed.

You rubbed your knuckles, “I am not. I feel like my hands are about to drop off.”

He gently took one of your hands and inspected your knuckles. “You’ll live,” he announced, thumb brushing lightly against your skin before he let go.

“You have a go,” you said, holding the bag for him. He gave it two light jabs. “Do it properly,” you insisted. He smirked, giving it a few more, slightly harder this time. “Is that it?”

He took a step back, “You want me to hit it properly?”

“Go on.”

He changed his stance, and then delivered two punches strong enough to knock you back a step. You laughed as you regained your balance.

“You right?” he asked, grabbing the bag.

“Do it again,” you said, spreading your legs apart a little to steady yourself properly as you held the bag. He didn’t let go from the other side, your eyes fixing on the small freckle at the end of his nose. “Your freckle is cute,” you muttered.

“Hm? My freckle?”

“Nevermind,” you said quickly.

“You think my freckle is cute?” he said, a lopsided grin forming on his face.

“Just hit the bag.”

He said nothing, eyes flicking across your face. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said, stepping back and resuming his stance. You braced yourself just before he began, keeping your balance this time. You watched his face as he jabbed, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He kept at it for a few minutes and then stopped, his breathing heavy as he looked at you. “Did he ever hurt you?” he said after a moment, breathing still uneven.

You frowned, where did that come from? “What? No. He just—He yelled a lot. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I’m not—I didn’t have anyone.”

“That’s why you looked at me like that when I shouted.”

“I just don’t like loud noises.”

“Have I done anything since then that made you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

His eyes flicked between yours.

You continued, “I think… you’re the one person on earth that makes me feel completely safe. I forget I’m alone.”

“You aren’t alone.”

It had been a reflex to say that. Something you were so used to, sometimes you forgot it wasn’t true anymore. “I know,” you breathed. You stepped around the bag, hesitating a second before stepping closer to him. “I have you and Jack.”

“Soonie, Doongie and Dori too,” he amended.

You smiled, “Them too.” You reached up to smooth down a tuft of his hair, then—unable to resist—touched the freckle at the nip of his nose lightly. His warm hand wrapped around your wrist before you could withdraw completely.

“You have to tell me… tell me how you feel. Please,” he whispered.

“About you? Haven’t I made that clear?” He shook his head slightly. You took one small step closer to him, chests almost touching. “You’re my favourite person in the world,” you breathed. You watched his eyes drop to your lips, giving you the courage to lean the rest of the way in and kiss him. He was still for the first few seconds, hand still grasping your wrist. When you pushed your chest into his fully he dropped your arm, wrapping himself around you—taking control of the kiss. He held you to him tightly, tilting you back a little as he deepened the kiss. It was all consuming. When he released you long enough for you to get a word in you spoke, “I’m a little sleepy.”

“Mm?”

“I think I’m ready for bed,” you offered him a small suggestive smile.

“Yeah?” He smirked before scooping you up, arms under your knees as he carried you through the apartment to his bedroom—laying you gently on the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing you softly before leaving the room. You sat up against his pillows, looking around the room you were seeing for the first time. He had fairy lights wrapped around his bed frame. You’d once brought home some very similar ones and had to return them after your boyfriend complained about them. When Minho returned he was carrying a small box, wrapped in baby blue paper with a ribbon around it. “I-I bought this a few weeks ago but I wasn’t sure when to give it to you.” He handed it to you and crawled onto the bed, sitting up against the pillows beside you. You looked down at the small blue box. No one remembered your last birthday. It had been years since anyone had gifted you anything apart from your bunny. You pulled at the ribbon carefully, then tore the paper and opened the small box. You lifted a delicate bracelet out, it was silver with a simple chain, the only embellishment was the two small charms dangling from one end. A bunny and a cat.

“I saw the charms in the window,” Minho said, “I think of you whenever I see rabbits now and the cat… that one is selfish.”

You looked up at him. “Selfish?”

“I just wanted you to think of me when you saw it.”

“I would’ve thought of you anyway, why did you—I mean what’s this for?”

“I saw it and I wanted you to have it.”

“That’s it?”

“Mm.”

“Could you?” You held your wrist out so he could help you put it on. He took the bracelet from your hand then gently fastened it to your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin. You inspected it on your wrist when he was done, turning your wrist back and forth to watch the small charms dangle against each other.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked, voice just above a whisper. The side of his face was lit softly by the fairy lights along the headboard. You climbed into his lap.

“I love it,” you said, fiddling with it once more before wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s been… a long time since anyone gave me anything. I think the last thing anyone gifted me was Jack.”

“I’m not sure I can top that.”

“I love Jack despite the man who gifted him, I love the bracelet more because it’s from you.”

“Like how I feel about your muffins.”

“I thought they were the best you’d ever had.”

“Mm, they were nudged to the top spot because of their baker. It was a very close competition between yours and this cafe near the market I get Jack’s veggies from.”

“They’re my veggies too, they feed me for a whole week.”

“You eat Jack’s veggies?” he said, mock disapproval in his voice.

You chuckled. “Don’t tell him.”

“Why should I keep your secret?”

You gave his lips a short soft kiss.

“Mm, persuasive,” he mumbled before attaching his lips to yours again, hand at the back of your neck to keep you close. You rolled your hips against him, prompting him to moan into your mouth. With one hand holding your head and the other wrapped around you, holding you against him, you couldn’t help thinking about how he looked earlier—muscles flexing as he hit the bag. The combination of his gentle nature and physical strength flicked a switch in your brain, making you feel like someone had designed him just to lure you. Your own personal, walking catnip. You wondered what you could offer him in return. He’d done so much for you in the short time you’d known him, helped you in your most vulnerable moments—and the only thing he’d asked for in return was an honest admission of your feelings.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair. A soft, almost whine, escaped from his throat. You pulled back, his lips were swollen and wet. His eyes were shiny as he gazed back at you, flicking over your face. You ran your hands down the back of his neck to play with the collar of his t-shirt. “Can I take this off?” you asked, fingers brushing against his skin gently.

“Yeah,” he breathed. You pulled it over his head, getting a little stuck at one point. Once you’d thrown it away you placed your hands gently on his shoulders, then slowly, you ran your hands down to his pecs. You watched his chest rise and fall with each breath.

“You’re so kind…and beautiful…and strong…” you spoke as you ran your hands over his skin. The tips of his ears were slowly turning a pretty shade of pink. “You’re gentle and warm and you make me feel so safe.” His chest was rising and falling faster under your palms. “You know how you asked me to tell you how I feel?” He nodded. “Will you let me show you instead? Let me show you how grateful I am for you…” He blinked slowly, then swallowed.

“Whatever you want,” he breathed.

You pressed your lips to his softly then pressed a gentle trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck—just below his ear. The tips of his ears were red now. You climbed off his lap to pull your sweats down your legs, then climbed over him again—rolling your hips slowly as you reattached your mouth to his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand splayed on your lower back to help you move against him. The longer you moved against him the more often little sounds would escape him. Some of his moans were quiet and soft, some deeper and drawn out. They spurred you on, rolling your hips until you felt him harden beneath you. You wanted to feel him properly. “Off, take them off,” you muttered against his lips as you tugged at the waistband of his pants. You took your weight off his lap, lifting yourself onto your knees so he could pull them down over his ass. You tangled your hands in his hair as he pulled them down to his knees. When you lowered yourself back onto him you moved your hands from his hair to cup the sides of his face. You held his head there, his eyes fixed on yours as you rolled yourself against his hard cock again—separated now only by two layers of underwear. His lips were slightly parted, his two front teeth peaking through. You pecked his lips and then pulled your shirt over your head. His thighs were warm against your skin—his boxers riding up from your movements. “Will you take this off for me?” you asked, playing with the bra strap at your shoulder.

“Mm, you’re so beautiful,” he said, voice a little breathy. He leaned forward to press his mouth to your shoulder as he reached to unclasp your bra behind your back. His lips left little wet patches on your skin as he covered your shoulder and neck with small kisses. “Couldn’t believe it when I first saw you…looking up at me with those eyes…” He sat back and watched as you slipped the bra off down your arms. His hands fell to your hips, guiding you to move against him again. “Wanna see you bouncing on my cock…will you do that for me?” he asked.

“Anything,” you gasped as he brought one hand to cup your breast. “Anything,” you repeated, watching his face as he focused on where his hand was kneading you. He leaned forward and attached his mouth to your tit, his wet tongue flicking out to lave over your nipple. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, holding his head to your chest as he sucked on your breast until you were completely breathless—head thrown back. Then he switched to the other. “So good…so good to me,” your muttered praises encouraged him, his pretty moans making a reappearance. The vibrations against your sensitive nipple coaxed a whine from your throat—your thighs clenching against him. “Need you… need you now,” you gasped, attempting to pull his head back from your chest—your fingers still tangled in his hair. He groaned one last time against you before releasing you—the cold air against your wet nipple making you shiver.

He lifted you off him gently and reached over to pull a condom out from his bedside drawer. You couldn’t help wondering when he’d last used them, who he’d used them with. You took it from his hand, “Let me do it.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and then you watched as he pulled his boxers down over his ass. His hard cock once freed bounced against his stomach as he settled himself back against the pillows. You placed the wrapped condom gently between your lips and held his gaze as you slid your underwear down your legs. You sat back and spread your legs, tracing one finger up your cunt—displaying how wet he’d made you. He held his arms out towards you, wordlessness asking you over to him.

You crawled up the bed and settled yourself over one thigh, sucking in a quick breath at the feeling of his warm skin against your throbbing cunt. You gave one quick roll of your hips before reaching to grasp his cock in your palm. His breath hitched as you gave him a few slow strokes, thumb brushing over his slit each time you reached his tip. You watched his face as you worked, his cheeks blushing to match his ears. You leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on each cheek then tore open the condom and rolled it down his length slowly. “Is that alright?” you asked once you were done. He nodded, mouth parted—breathing heavily. You lifted up onto your knees and shuffled forward a little so you were hovering over him. You looked down into his eyes, glazed a little as he looked up at you. You reached behind you and held him to help guide him into you. You held his gaze as you lowered yourself, watching his mouth close— jaw clenching as he filled you. You stilled as he bottomed out, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest into his.

“Got you,” he murmured before pressing his lips into yours.

“Make those pretty noises for me,” you whispered between kisses as you clenched your walls around his cock—attempting to coax a moan from him. His hands grasped your hips gently, the same hands you’d watched him use to hit the bag earlier—gentle and strong. You bit his lower lip gently as you lifted your hips a little—sinking back down again slowly. “You wanna see me bounce on your cock?” you asked, raising yourself a little higher this time. He moaned as you lowered yourself. “Yeah?” you continued. “Want me to ride you?”

“Please,” he groaned.

“Anything you want,” you said, brushing the hair from his face. You lifted yourself to his tip, then slowly lowered yourself down to his base again. “Like that?”

“Faster,” he breathed, head falling back against the headboard—eyes closed.

You lifted yourself again, dropping back down faster—your tits bouncing a little as you continued. His hands on your hips guided you, his hips beginning to lift off the bed to meet you as you fell. You watched his biceps flex as he guided you up and down his cock. “So good to me,” you said again, you couldn’t help it—telling him how good he was. How well he treated you. He lifted his head from the pillows, eyes opening to meet yours. You took in his flushed face…his glassy eyes. You pressed your lips to his, overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock filling you completely. “Watch me, hm? Watch how good you make me feel,” you spoke against his lips before pulling away to begin bouncing yourself on him properly.

His eyes flicked between your face and your bouncing tits—your name slipping from his mouth in a soft whine. You moaned his name in return, reaching up to grasp your own breast as you bounced. Without warning he pulled you down hard, his cock bottoming out as he came. You watched his face as he milked himself inside you, moving your hips a little to help him. You reached down to circle your clit as you kept your eyes on his blissed out expression, cheeks still flushed red. You rolled your hips against him, falling forward and trapping your arm against him as you came—mouth pressing to his skin as you moaned his name one last time. You slumped against him, his chest rapidly rising and falling against yours. You closed your eyes as you both caught your breath.

“Thank you for moving next door,” he broke the silence eventually, cock softening inside you. You fell sideways onto the bed, laughing lightly.

“Thank you for sitting on that bench every morning. Why do you do that? You’re always up so early with nowhere to be.”

He was quiet for a moment, maybe still catching his breath. He shuffled down to lay his head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “To see you…” he said eventually, “I only started after the day you crashed into me.”

You frowned, there was no way. “But—You were up early that day, too.”

“I had to pull an all nighter, I went out to grab a coffee when my favourite place opened. I just…wake up early now.”

You took a second to process the revelation. “You…have been setting an alarm and waking up early everyday just to speak to me for a minute or two?”

“And for the muffins,” he grinned, turning to look at you.

You rolled on top of him. “Can you go again?” you asked, overwhelmed with the need to be as close as possible to him again.

He chuckled softly. “Whatever you need. I’ve got you.” He gently placed his hand at the back of your neck and guided your lips to his.

a/n: the bunny escape story is taken directly from my childhood, my bunny got out one day and after searching the neighbourhood in tears i got back to find him scratching at the front door. he was a good bun.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist | part two

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

3K notes · View notes

marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something… familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?”

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes.

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!”

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight.

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself.

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body.

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.”

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two.

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes.

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care.

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.”

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face.

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time.

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

2K notes · View notes

vernoniekiss · 4 months

Text

birthday boy - hvc

warnings : none, just fluff and loads of kisses!! established relationship.

word count: 312 (it’s really really short).

written in lowercase !

a/n : i know it’s also dokyeoms birthday but i just really wanted to write one for vernon :( happy birthday to them both <3. oh my god i suck at writing these 💀.

23:59pm.

you watched silently as the second hand turn a slow 360 around the clock before it hit…

00:00am.

it was vernon’s birthday. turning around to face the man himself, he was in deep slumber after coming back from dance practice so late. bringing your hands up to cup his face, you slowly caressed his cheeks. gently, you leaned forward to give the birthday man a little peck on the lips. again. and again until he slowly woke up.

he was a bit confused at first before kissing you back. “what’s wrong?” he mumbled against your lips. this definitely wasn’t your first time doing this, but he was never the one to complain when it comes to your kisses.

“mmh nothing, happy birthday baby” you whispered back before catching his mouth again in a kiss. you could feel him smile into the kiss and giggling.

he breaks away from the kiss with you following his lips for another kiss. you whine when he keeps pulling away. his lips quirked up at you almost in a teasing way.

“come back, i’ve not finished giving you your birthday kisses” you mumble pouting. “we’ve got all day today for you to give me my ‘birthday kisses’ ” he replied back.

he gave you one last peck on the lips before wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you to his chest. “thank you baby” he said giving you a kiss on your temple.

you smile softly before wrapping your arms around his neck. “i love you so much” you whispered.

“i love you too, you big sap. go back to bed it’s still early” he whispered back, slightly laughing at you.

you started giggling along with vernon before slotting your face into his neck. “night” you yawned.

“night” vernon replied back, tucking you in tighter into him (??), “see you when i wake up”.

#seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen x you #chwe vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon fluff #vernon chwe #svt hansol #hansol x reader #hansol fluff #vernon x reader #vernoniekiss

253 notes · View notes

heliads · 2 months

Note

Hello! If you don’t mind, I would like to request a Rebekah Mikaelson x reader?

Something like, reader is human but is the key to one of Klaus’s plans, so he takes her to the Mikaelson mansion and keeps her there. She’s kind of a prisoner, but Rebekah has seen this film before, so she’s just expecting one of her brothers - or both of her brothers - to fall in love with yet another stupid human and make everything complicated again

However, reader starts to get affectionate with her. She starts looking for her when she needs something, when she has to make a decision, she looks at her for reassurance, she goes to Bekah’s room late at night to talk and very often just falls asleep there, it’s a whole thing, but Rebekah is always expecting the moment she’ll leave her for her brothers, not really opening her heart, she’s scared because she has been fooled so many times

So, one day she sees reader talking with Elijah and she’s even giving him those pleading eyes she usually reserves for her and they both shut up immediately when she gets close, and she knows the moment came, Y/N will be Elijah’s, Klaus will freak out and hell will break loose. She’s hurt but pretends no to be and just starts keeping reader away

But reader was only talking to Elijah because in one of these late night talks, Rebekah told her that no one has ever baked for her even though she has been doing it forever, so she was just trying to convince him to get everything she needed to bake for her, she’s completely in love with Rebekah

So, that’s it! I hope you like the request, thanks anyway!

'didn't like the ending' - rebekah mikaelson

masterlist

God, Rebekah Mikaelson has seen the same scene play out so many times, she’s starting to feel like she’s spent half her immortal life in deja vu. For a family of Original vampires that prides itself on being leagues beyond the rest of their bloodsucking proteges, the Mikaelson brothers can be a little, well, predictable. Especially at times like this.

If there’s one perfect example of the Mikaelson men repeating themselves, it would have to be the hostage problem. Rebekah can’t even begin to count the amount of times she’s witnessed the same damn thing over the centuries. At this point, it’s starting to border on ridiculous, yet the only one who seems attuned to this problem is Rebekah. And it’s not as if her brothers are really that keen to listen to her, anyway. Certainly not about something like this.

Every time, it starts and ends the same: one of her brothers, maybe even Rebekah herself, will drag in some human or vampire or witch to serve as a hostage during one of their many disputes with the neighbouring supernatural beings. They’ll chain up this poor sap in a cell, or lock them in one of the many rooms of the Mikaelson mansion. At first, all will be perfectly ordinary. The hostage will beg and plead to be rescued, Rebekah’s family will laugh scornfully from atop their ivory towers, and everything will go as planned.

But then the negotiations don’t happen as quickly as they would like, and the Mikaelsons end up spending a lot more time with their hostage than initially envisioned. They have to tolerate the company of this foreign presence more and more, especially since the hostage often ends up being a key part in someone’s plans, and information is required from them. Then, Elijah or Klaus, or heavens, even Kol sometimes, will end up spending far more time with this hostage than ever before, and they’ll do the unthinkable and fall in love.

Rebekah is no stranger to the plight of the lovestruck Mikaelson. Although it seems impossible, one of her brothers will fall in love, and then face the unsightly issue of having to wrestle with their guilt over letting the hostage go, or the more likely option, they’ll keep the hostage forever as a little trophy or token of their affections until they fall out of love again and the hostage is set free.

This has happened many times over the centuries. No matter how much her brothers love to talk about how they’re so above mortal things like feelings, Rebekah has watched them fall victim to their hearts until an affection becomes an affliction. Normally, she wouldn’t have a problem with any of this, it is rather amusing to watch her brothers fall over themselves in an attempt to woo a human of all things, but more often than not she ends up being the reluctant ear to their monologues, so the whole affair has grown rather wearisome over the years.

And so, when Klaus drags yet another human hostage into the Mikaelson mansion as a cog in one of his many elaborate plans, Rebekah just sighs and mentally starts planning when she’ll take an extended vacation out of New Orleans yet again so she won’t have to deal with all of this. It’s a shame, too. She was just starting to put herself back out there again, and now all of her hard work is for nothing.

Rebekah watches from the balcony as Klaus dramatically announces to the hostage that they’ll have nowhere to go unless they help him. This time, he’s allowing the hostage free reign of the place, since he’s had a witch charm the hostage into being unable to leave the mansion unless Klaus directly allows it. That way, he won’t have to deal with pesky things like vervain getting in the way of his commands.

Rebekah sighs, rolling her eyes at the scene. The hostage seems like a perfectly nice young woman, albeit one that has absolutely no idea what’s coming for her. Inwardly, she wonders if she should start issuing ominous warnings about staying away from the Mikaelson brothers, although if this hostage is in any way involved with the vampiric communities of New Orleans, she supposes they would already know more than enough about that.

A sudden whoosh of air by her side; Rebekah looks up to see Elijah suddenly emerging from the shadows of the hall to stand next to her. “Something seems to be troubling you,” he notes. “Should I be afraid to ask?”

Rebekah just groans. “Klaus has gone and conjured himself up yet another hostage. This is not going to end well.”

Elijah arches a brow. “You don’t mean to tell me you think Klaus will harm her already? He should hold off at least a week or two, he needs her alive.”

Rebekah shakes her head. “Worse. I think he’s going to grow to care for her. Either you or him.”

Elijah chuckles. “Well, I hardly think that being under the protection of a Mikaelson is cause for concern. If anything, it should extend her lifetime a few decades or so.”

Rebekah scoffs. “I couldn’t care less about how long she lives. I just don’t want you two to bother me when you fall in love again.”

Elijah gazes down at the hostage. “You don’t even know if she’s our type. We might not like her in the slightest. Rebekah, have you even bothered to learn the poor girl’s name? That’s meager hospitality on your part.”

Rebekah almost laughs. “Dearest brother, I do not give a damn who this girl is or what she’s done wrong to get herself on Klaus’ radar. The more she stays out of my way, the better.”

With that, she spins on her heel and heads back towards her quarters. This plan is one of Klaus’ mad schemes, not hers, so Rebekah is determined to avoid the whole matter as much as she can. Maybe then she could finally manage a moment or two of peace and quiet around here.

Peace and quiet, as it turns out, are not the sorts of things to hang around the Mikaelson estate, certainly not when Klaus has a few tricks up his sleeve. Try as she might to stay out of the way, Rebekah finds herself brought back into the mix not by Klaus, or even Elijah on one of his many attempts to bring the family together, but by the hostage herself: Y/N L/N.

Rebekah had been honest with Elijah when she said she couldn’t care less about the hostage. Really, she couldn’t. For some reason, however, Y/N seems to have decided that Rebekah is her best bet when attempting to navigate the complex relationships of the Mikaelson extended sphere. She’s not wrong, really, Rebekah can be level-headed when she decides it’s interesting enough for her, but she can’t fathom why Y/N would seek her out intentionally.

Yet this is precisely what happens. Y/N takes it upon herself to introduce herself to Rebekah out of the blue one day, then keeps tracking Rebekah down to ask her questions or seek advice on how to deal with Klaus. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Rebekah does not need new friends, nor would she try to find them in a human.

That being said, she doesn’t entirely mind Y/N, not really. As far as humans go, Rebekah would be kind enough to say that she’s one of the better ones. She doesn’t annoy Rebekah like some of the Mystic Falls crew did, and she listens intently whenever Rebekah speaks, as if she truly cared about what Rebekah had to say. After many lifetimes over her brothers overruling her every thought, Rebekah can’t deny that it’s nice to have her opinion valued every now and then.

Just as expected, Y/N’s tenure in the Mikaelson mansion drags on for longer than planned, and what was meant to be a stay of just a couple of weeks turns into one month, then two. Y/N remains, and she remains by Rebekah’s side. They actually exchange jokes, and secrets, and before Rebekah knows it, she actually looks forward to when she crosses paths with Y/N. They get along brilliantly, and when Y/N isn’t with Rebekah–

Well, when she’s not with Rebekah, she’s with Elijah. Practically glued to the hip. At first, Rebekah would jealously tell herself that Y/N would never get along with Elijah, but inside, she knows it isn’t true. If Y/N can win over Rebekah when Rebekah was firmly opposed to the whole idea, then good-tempered Elijah would be a walk in the park to Rebekah’s bloody battlefield.

It makes Rebekah sick. She knows how this play turns out, doesn’t she? Rebekah has attended many showings, and no matter the venue, no matter the star actress, it always turns out the same. The hostage falls for a Mikaelson brother, not sister. In the end, there is love to be shared, but not with Rebekah. Never with Rebekah.

She wants to tighten her hold, but afraid of pushing Y/N away for good, she pretends as if nothing is the matter. Y/N doesn’t seem to notice the war brewing between Rebekah’s ribs. She spends more and more time in Rebekah’s room, talking over some issue or other. Sometimes, when the nights get low and Y/N forgets to leave, she’ll even fall asleep on Rebekah’s bed, or when leaning against her shoulder. It feels personal. It feels like maybe, it might even be Rebekah’s turn to fall in love.

She knows better, though. Of course Rebekah knows better. Rebekah has been through enough lifetimes to know that hope is a very rocky fissure upon which to build one’s aspirations. Even if a lot of her life has been spent daggered in a box, she still knows enough to not be naive. This story isn’t going to go her way. It never does.

She’d like it to, though. She really would. Y/N gets along with the whole family, and Rebekah can’t stop herself from imagining how nice it would be to have a significant other that wasn’t in danger of getting murdered by Klaus or Elijah for once. Klaus, with admittedly great reluctance, has come to value Y/N’s input. And Elijah’s conversations with Y/N seem to increase in number, but mainly whenever Rebekah isn’t around.

That happens a lot, actually. They’ll be getting along, thick as thieves, and then the moment Rebekah turns the corner and comes into their direct line of sight, the two of them mysteriously clam up. Keeping secrets, it seems. From her. And Rebekah reckons she can guess the subject matter quite well.

That’s it, then. That’s the mystery sorted, the grand question of which Mikaelson their latest hostage would fall for. It’s not as if this hasn’t happened before, but Rebekah finds herself far more disappointed than she had for any of the others. Vampires are protective and jealous and selfish, and Rebekah is the worst of them, but still, she swears she had never wanted anything quite like this before. Now this thing, this love, this woman, is out of her reach, and Rebekah’s entire existence has suddenly turned tragic.

Although she should take the high road and pretend that nothing is the matter, Rebekah has never been good at brushing off trivialities. Once, when she was younger, Klaus had told her that she had a ‘gift for theatrics.’ At first, she’d been delighted, assuming her brother believed her to be a master actress, and then she’d realized that Klaus’ words, as they always seemed to be, were nothing but a barb meant to wound her. Then she’d stomped around as usual, doing nothing to raise her spirits and only proving him right.

Stomping around can be rather satisfying, though. When Rebekah runs into Y/N and Elijah deep in a heated conversation one day, she just can’t take it anymore. This time, instead of running away and pretending as if she hadn’t seen a thing, Rebekah purposely walks towards them. Just as before, Y/N’s eyes go wide, and she hurriedly shuts up.

Rebekah isn’t willing to let it slide, though. She stops in front of them and folds her arms across her chest. “What’s all this about? You look as if you’ve been caught red-handed. Which, I suppose, you have.”

Y/N grins weakly. “Nothing. We, uh, aren’t doing anything.”

Rebekah arches a brow. “That’s hardly believable, now, isn’t it? How about you try telling me the truth for once. I’d certainly like to hear it.”

Elijah claps his hands together. “Actually, I think this is a matter just for you and Y/N, my dear sister. I don’t believe this concerns me at all.”

Before either of them can stop him, Elijah disappears down the hall, gone in an instant. Y/N glares after him. “For an immortal vampire, he’s absolutely terrible when you want someone to stand by you.”

“That’s Elijah for you,” Rebekah murmurs. “He never likes it when we fight.”

“Yeah, well, I can hardly blame him,” Y/N muses. “Fighting with your family seems rather painful.”

“It is,” Rebekah instantly agrees, then remembers that she’s supposed to be upset. “Now, you can’t distract me anymore. Tell me what’s going on, I mean it. I know we’re friends, but you don’t have to hide things from me.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide. “You mean– you know? And you’re okay with it?”

Rebekah feels as if she’s been daggered. She almost wants to turn around and see if her murderous brother is standing behind her, ready to put her in a coffin again for another century or two. Y/N does like Elijah, then. How utterly heartbreaking. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” She asks listlessly. “I know my brothers, and as far as Mikaelson men go, you chose the one who tends to be the most stable. Nothing wrong with that.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

Rebekah looks away. Thinking it is one thing, but admitting the painful truth aloud suddenly seems far worse. “You know. You’ve fallen in love with my brother.”

She isn’t sure how she expects Y/N to react. With relief, maybe, that she won’t have to hide anymore. What Rebekah certainly isn’t expecting is for Y/N to start laughing. “What? No, Rebekah, I’m not in love with Elijah. I’m in love with you.”

The floor seems to have fallen about beneath Rebekah’s feet. “With– with me?”

Y/N laughs again. It’s a lovely sound. “Yes, Bekah, I love you. It’s very easy to do, you know.”

Rebekah shakes her head, still not entirely sure that she isn’t dreaming or something. This certainly feels like a dream. “But– you’re always with Elijah– and you keep sharing secrets with him that you won’t tell me–”

Y/N grins. “That’s because I’m trying to make sure he won’t tell a soul. Elijah figured me out a few weeks ago. Mainly, though, I’ve been trying to persuade him to get me a few things. I want to bake something for you, and Klaus only ever keeps this house stocked with blood and alcohol. It’s sort of horrific, actually. You don’t even have baking soda.”

Rebekah’s brow furrows. “You wanted to bake me something? Why?”

Y/N’s smile turns quiet. “You mentioned it once. You were sad that no one had ever baked for you even though you were always making things for your brothers. I didn’t want you to feel that way anymore.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Rebekah says softly. “I only mentioned it once.”

“I like listening to you, Rebekah.” Y/N tells her.

And at last, at long last, Rebekah knows why. She’s seen this play before. For once, she gets her happy ending.

vampire diaries tag list: @mayfieldss, @alex-1967s-blog

all tags list: @wordsarelife

156 notes · View notes