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vanteguccir · 21 days

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A day to forget | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.

Warning: Anxiety attack, crying, bad thoughts, bad day.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed as she sat at her office desk, preparing herself for another day of work. The comforting smell of the freshly brewed coffee Matt bought at the Starbucks drive thru on the way to her company surrounded her as she adjusted her chair and turned on her computer.

But what seemed like a smooth start quickly turned into a disaster.

As the girl reached for her mouse, her elbow hit the cup, which surprisingly wasn't closed properly, spilling the scalding liquid onto her keyboard and legs. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she jumped up from her chair, trying to clean up the mess with her hands, hurting them in the process. Her eyes traveled across her desk, picking up the nearest blank papers - since she didn't have any napking - draping them over her thighs.

"Great, just great." She muttered to herself, feeling the penetrating heat of the drink on her skin and the bitter aroma mixing with the smell of the office.

Embarrassed, she crumpled up the paper, throwing them in the trash beneath her desk before heading over to the tea table, picking up a handful of napkins, her eyes darting around her, feeling gazes burning into her back.

The girl took a deep breath, turning around and returning to her seat. Surreptitiously, she cleaned the keyboard as best she could and tried to dry her legs with what was left of the napkins, but the damage was done.

Feeling discouraged, she tried to focus on her work, but her mind was troubled by the incident.

Hours passed, and Y/N was immersed in an important project when her boss, Mr. Johnson appeared next to her desk.

“Y/N, can you give me the reports from the finance department?” He asked in a serious voice, his eyes running over the small drips of coffee dry on the wooden surface as his nose wrinkled at the strong smell.

Without thinking, Y/N picked up the documents that were in the pile of papers on the right side of her desk and handed them to him with a confident smile. However, her confidence quickly disappeared when she read a small excerpt from the back of the last page, then realizing that she had given him the wrong papers.

A feeling of horror overcame her when she saw the shocked expression on her boss's face as he looked at the contents.

"What is this, Y/N?" His voice was thick with anger as he looked at her disapprovingly. "Those aren't the reports I asked for!"

Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment as she tried to articulate an apology, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. She helplessly watched her boss throw the papers haphazardly beside her right arm, turning and walking away, muttering irritably about the incompetence of some employees.

Shoulders slumped, Y/N turned forward, fighting back tears of frustration, her blurry vision distorting the entire contents of her computer. She wondered how she could have made such a silly mistake and felt discouraged by her own incompetence.

As she tried to refocus on her work with the onset of a headache and her chest burning in agony, the office light flickered and then went out completely. A collective sigh of frustration echoed through the office as all the employees were plunged into darkness.

Y/N clenched her fists in frustration as she realized she hadn't saved her recent work, the black screen staring back at her. She knew she would have to start from scratch, probably take work home so she could finish the task on time, having already irritated her boss beyond belief, a disheartening thought after such a disastrous day.

In the dark silence of the office, Y/N fought the feeling of defeat that threatened to consume her. She knew she would have to overcome the day's challenges and continue, after all, she was just another employee and couldn't afford to rest her mind before keep going, and at the moment, all she wanted was to escape the turmoil and forget the terrible day she had.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The clock marked the end of the day, and the office was empty. Y/N collected her belongings and headed to the company entrance, ready to meet her boyfriend Matt, along with Nick and Chris, who would pick her up after they finished recording the car video that would be posted the next day.

She waited patiently in front of the front doors, watching the strong wind sway the palm trees around the luxurious entrance. Her thoughts wandered to the disastrous day she had at work, reliving each moment in her mind, wearing herself down with the thoughts of what she could have done better for everything that happened, not happening. The feeling of failure weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, hiding her emotions from the few passersby who passed by.

Time passed, and Matt still hadn't arrived. Y/N checked the time on her phone several times, feeling impatience growing inside her. She knew she should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, unforeseen events happened, but her anxious mind couldn't help but think about all the things that could have happened.

Then, as if the universe were conspiring against her, the gray clouds above her head broke, and torrential rain began to fall. Y/N looked up, feeling the cold drops wet her face and penetrate her clothes, soiling her pants even more. She wished she had brought an umbrella, but it was too late to regret it now.

As she waited in the rain, Y/N felt flooded with a mix of emotions. The frustration of the day was mixed with concern about Matt being late and the feeling of helplessness in the face of adverse weather. She wanted to burst into tears, to let out all the tension and anguish she had been carrying, but a part of her refused to give in.

Instead, Y/N maintained a mask of calm, keeping her emotions locked inside herself as her mind screamed silently, her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, trying to trap as much heat as possible.

Finally, after an endless wait, Y/N saw Matt's car approaching. Her heart leaped in relief as he stopped in front of her, watching Chris rush out the passenger door, leaving it open for her and getting into the backseat next to Nick.

"Sorry I'm late, babe." Matt asked after making sure she was seated and comfortable, a guilty smile decorating his face. "We had some problems with the topics and barely noticed the time passing."

Y/N just nodded, forcing a smile in response. She knew there was no point in complaining or breaking down now.

As the car drove away from the company, leaving chaos and rain behind, Y/N took a deep breath as she leaned her head against the glass, ignoring the discomfort of her clothes sticking against her skin.

In the back seat, Chris and Nick were immersed in a lively conversation about one of the topics discussed in the video as the car moved along the wet road, a topic that Y/N was sure she would've joined on the discussion if she wasn't feeling so bad.

The steady rhythm of the rain beating against the glass provided a relaxing background, but this calm was soon interrupted when Chris decided, out of the blue, that he wanted to connect his phone to the car speaker to put some music.

"Wait, I found a song earlier today that's a very Lil Skies vibe." Chris said with an excited smile, fishing his cell out of the front pocket of his sweatpants.

Before he could select the song, Nick acted quickly, taking the device out of Chris's hand.

"No, wait! Billie released a new song recently." Nick recalled, with a challenging tone of voice. "You always pick the same songs."

Chris frowned, retrieving his phone again, as if it were a tug of war.

"No, today I want to listen to my songs!"

The exchange quickly turned into an argument, with Chris and Nick gradually raising their voices as they argued over who should control the car stereo like two kids, while Matt watched them in the rearview mirror, telling them to shut up from time to time. The friendly atmosphere of the previous moment quickly disappeared, replaced by a palpable tension that filled the interior of the vehicle.

Meanwhile, Y/N huddled tighter on her seat, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere. She tried to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but the sound of Chris and Nick's loud, gruff voices hit her like an avalanche.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. She knew she shouldn't get involved in the brothers' fight, that she had nothing to do with it, and that, unsurprisingly, discussions like that were routine in her life. But despite her efforts to control herself, the pressure of the horrible day she had had weighed on her shoulders like an unbearable burden.

As the argument continued to intensify, Y/N felt a wave of anxiety wash over her, the desperation to scream at them to shut up getting bigger. Her heartbeat accelerated, her breathing became shallow, and her hands began to shake involuntarily.

She knew an anxiety attack was coming, but she fought to contain it, fearing what would happen if she lost control, not wanting to worry the boys, or worse, upset them even more.

However, even with all her determination, Y/N was unable to prevent the inevitable. Chris and Nick's rising voices, mixed with the crushing weight of her own worries, were too much to bear. A sudden sob escaped her throat, tearing the air inside the car, which was soon followed by more sobs, each one more anguished than the last.

Her shoulders began to shake violently, her body contorting under the overwhelming weight of her emotions. She tried to hold back, but the tears came in torrents, blurring her vision and obscuring her world.

Matt looked away from the road to look at her, his expression turning to immediate concern when he saw her condition.

"Y/N, babe, what's going on?" He asked, his voice full of alarm.

Chris and Nick abruptly fell silent, their argument forgotten as they looked at Y/N with expressions of shock and concern.

But Y/N couldn't respond. She was deep in her own mind, fighting the waves of anxiety that consumed her. Her world had narrowed to nothing but pain and despair, her body shaking uncontrollably under the weight of her thoughts.

The interior of the car was immersed in a tense silence. Matt kept a steady hand on the steering wheel, but his attention was entirely focused on Y/N, whose sobs filled the space between them.

"Baby? Hey, petal, look at me." Matt asked softly, his voice flooding with concern as he tried to reach her through the abyss of her anguish.

Y/N reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Matt's, but her vision was blurred by the tears still streaming down her face. She felt a wave of despair as she realized that she couldn't calm down no matter how hard she tried.

Matt took his right hand off the steering wheel, keeping control of the car with his left one, bringing it to Y/N's leg, stroking the wet covered skin with a firm touch, trying to bring her back.

"Breathe with me, baby. C'mon, take a deep breath. That's it, in... then out."

He began counting in a low voice, guiding her through deep, slow breaths. Y/N tried to follow his instructions, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing and the comforting feeling of Matt's touch.

Meanwhile, Chris remained silent in the backseat, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern. He knew that his actions had contributed to Y/N's current state, and that weighed heavily on his conscience.

Beside him, Nick placed a light hand on her shoulder, silently conveying support. He wanted to find the right words to comfort Y/N, but he felt helpless in the face of the situation.

Then, suddenly, Matt turned the steering wheel abruptly, turning the car towards the side of the road, parking it there quickly, knowing that he would get nowhere if he kept trying to help her in a moving vehicle. He unbuckled his own belt, followed by hers before turning fully to his girl, his eyes fixed on hers with gentle determination.

"Sweetheart, listen to me." The brunette ordered, his voice firm, but full of love. "You're safe. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

He gently took her face in his hands, caressing the icy skin of her cheeks and leaning over the console to kiss her forehead tenderly. Each gesture was full of care and affection, an attempt to dispel the fog of anxiety that enveloped Y/N.

"You are strong, my beautiful, beautiful girl." Matt continued, his voice soft and comforting. "You'll get through this. I'm here for you no matter what."

With his loving words and gentle touches, Matt began to guide Y/N out of the abyss of her anxiety attack. He wrapped her in his protective arms, almost laying his torso on the console - ignoring the pain the hard surface provided to his skin, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest.

Minute by minute, Y/N's shaking lessened, her breathing becoming more regular. Finally, after what looked like an eternity, she pulled away slightly from Matt's arms, looking up at him with gratitude in her moist eyes.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice breaking, her teeth catching her lower lip momentarily, feeling guilty for making them have to witness such a situation. "I... I'm fine now."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. So, so proud." Matt smiled at her, his eyes brimming with relief as her voice emanated calm. "I love you."

"I love you more."

As the car returned to the road, the storm inside Y/N began to dissipate. Her arms remained crossed around her own torso, trying to convey some sort of comfort to her body as she didn't receive the touch from Matt that she so desperately craved.

"I'm sorry, boys." The girl whispered a few seconds later, turning slightly back, her eyes darting from Chris to Nick and back again.

"Never apologize for situations like this, Y/N. You can't control your body, much less your emotions." Nick quickly stopped her avalanche of negative thoughts, giving her a serious but loving look.

"It's us who should apologize. I imagine something must have happened before, but either way, we're the ones who caused this." Chris looked down at the top of the car's console, scratching the back of his head with his right hand in embarrassment.

"It's okay. It was just a bad day." The girl smiled slightly at the two, her eyes still burning from the intense crying and her body sore from the strong tremors, but her heart could now rest.

Matt looked at her momentarily, smiling big and proud, his blue eyes shining with pure love. His hand, which was still on her thigh, lightly pressed the covered skin, stroking it with his thumb, before turning his gaze forward again.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @0strawberrysorbet0 @iammattswife

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sixosix · 7 months

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SOMETHING HAPPENS | XIAO

summary verr goldet and huai'an playing matchmaker, basically

warnings wc 1.7k, this fic is xiao pretty much watching over reader in his very xiao way so if you’re not into stalking elements pls don’t read LMFAO + xiao having a crushhh

You’ve felt the looming presence of someone watching you ever since you’ve set foot in Liyue.

It wasn’t anything sudden—in fact, no ordinary human being would have noticed it. But you’ve been trained to deal with all sorts of animals, from wild Rishboland Tigers down to slippery Red-Tailed Lizards. You could sense the tiniest snap of twigs and freshly fallen leaves that could have only occurred from an interference.

And having dealt with animals for so long, you can safely conclude that whatever has been following you for the past ten days is definitely not an animal. If it were, it would’ve been some skilled predator that somehow disappears into thin air when you steal a glimpse. The only possible trace you could find is the barely discernible mark on the dirt.

It also helped your Vision gave you the blessing of being attuned to the wind and the shift of air from a heavy presence.

You thought you’d be dead by the fifth day of your stay—murdered by this newly-acquired stalker of yours, but nothing happened. You asked (politely, with a please) this person to reveal themselves and save you both the trouble, but nothing happened.

You even went as far as to throw yourself into the first hilichurl camp you saw to see if anything happened, yet while you were defending yourself against one, all of them fell to the ground limp once you turned back to them. You search for more camps nearby, but they’ve all been cleared—and all of them were freshly beaten as if your stalker made quick work once they figured out what you were up to.

“It’s hard to tell if you’re out to protect me instead of murdering me if you don’t show yourself,” you say to the empty field, hoping for at least one answer, but nothing happens.

You suppose all that matters is that it’s hard to feel lonely with the constant presence.

“You been hanging around Wangshu Inn lately?” asks the man you went up to. It is in case you weren’t alone in what seemed to be the beginning plot of a horror movie. At your reluctant nod, he snorts, “Well, aren’t you a lucky one? Or perhaps it’s the complete opposite if you’ve been up to no good and disrespected an Adeptus.”

You don't understand what this man’s point is. You’ve briefly heard of the term ‘Adepti’ floating around Liyue, but you’re not quite sure if it’s one person or something else entirely. Have you done something to offend any deities in Liyue? All you’ve really been up to is researching the wildlife and tracking down the stalker.

“What does Wangshu Inn have to do with this?”

“Why don’t you ask and find out yourself?”

You frown. “It would save me hours if you just tell me now.”

“I already told you what I know, kid,” says the man to you, a full-grown adult. “But I suppose I can let you in on one secret: you’ve piqued the interest of someone.”

This man is crazy.

You sigh. You’ve only been hanging around Wangshu Inn for shelter, but the sun is setting a little too fast, and the warm lights and delicious aroma of their food are starting to speak to you—you suppose there is no other way.

Making your way up to an inn has never been more interesting.

While walking, you belatedly realize that you feel the presence of the stranger again. It’s stronger than before, says the winds, and they never lie with what they touch as they fly by.

You also take it upon yourself to ask the merchants and customers alike, calling yourself new and curious as to what they know about the Adeptus lingering around Wangshu Inn.

“An Adeptus? All I know is that this inn is hiding a mysterious secret, but none of us have really gotten to a point where we found more about it.”

A secret.

You’d really prefer if the man you met before weren’t lying, as you would want your stalker to at least be some sort of god than an ordinary human being who has been watching you for no other reason.

You mull this information in your head as you climb up the inn. And then your limbs lock in place once you hear a voice. It speaks to you, for some unknown reason—as if the winds have quieted down to make you listen. You’re not sure if it’s the rasp or the absolute command his voice demands that gets to you, but—

“The next person to come here will ask about me. You will say you know nothing about my whereabouts.”

Then, a new, feminine voice speaks up. It breaks the brief trance you’ve been under. “…Is this the same person you’ve been watching over for the past two weeks, Adeptus Xiao?”

Adeptus Xiao. Watching over…?

Yet when you pick up pace and hurry to the counter, it’s just a woman alone, wide-eyed as she looks at you as if you were the one acting stranger.

“Sorry,” you blurt. “I’m, ah… I thought…”

Were you really just imagining that? No. That’s impossible.

The lady smiles. “I’ve seen you around the Inn recently. My name is Verr Goldet, the boss here at Wangshu Inn.”

“Oh, yes, nice to meet you.” Embarrassed, you choose to stare at the cat resting on the edge of her desk. You wonder if that cat can sense your distress; it’s blinking up at you innocently, surely the eyes of someone who has witnessed what you’ve missed. “My name’s Y/N, and I wanted to book a room…”

Verr Goldet brightens, but you suppose anyone receiving a customer would be, too. “I see. Have you considered the room on our highest floor?”

“Not…really?”

She hums, then smiles like she's letting you in on a little secret. “You should. If not, then at least consider climbing up the stairs and see the view for yourself. Most of my customers book rooms solely for that reason.”

That does sound appealing, and you have time to spare. “I will; thank you for the suggestion.”

Pleased, Verr Goldet turns to her desk to assumably book you a room. In the silence, you find your voice, “Hey, boss.”

You look up, and Verr Goldet’s eyes are sparkling. “Hm, yes? Oh, your expression looks terrified.” She laughs, sliding a key across the desk and urging you to take it. “I’m just used to correcting people who call me ‘boss lady’. What was your question?”

“Well, I’m pretty new, and—I’ve heard something interesting about this place.”

“There are a lot of rumors about this place. You’d have to be more specific.”

She might either kick you out from where you’re standing or understand what you’re about to say. “Well, ever since I arrived here at Wangshu Inn I always felt like I was being watched over… and then a man I met outside from here told me that there’s an Adeptus nearby?”

“I see. So you’ve met my husband,” she smiles knowingly. “You’re not from Liyue, aren’t you?” You shake your head. “Usually, no one knows about this, but my husband must’ve caught it, too. You’re looking for Adeptus Xiao, and I have noticed that he’s been lingering a lot more recently. More so than usual—I’ve concluded it’s ever since you arrived.”

“Should I be scared?” Because you’re not. Your heart is pounding. It’s a little messed up, but the thought of someone so highly esteemed having noticed you sends a thrill down your spine.

“Of course not. Xiao is the slayer of demons—he keeps Liyue and, most notably, this Inn safe from harm. Of course, I can’t blame your curiosity: no one else has seen Xiao with their own eyes.”

“Am I correct in assuming my stalker could be this Adeptus?”

Verr Goldet laughs. “Why don’t you head up and find out?”

Breathtaking is the first thought that crosses your mind as you finally reach the terrace. You can’t hold back your elated gasp seeing the place from this height—the lanterns, the people, the scenery.

And then you say, “Adeptus Xiao, are you here? Verr Goldet told me you’d be.” She didn’t say it directly, but the implications were there.

The wind shifts as a presence materializes behind you. It’s an all-too-familiar feeling. Goosebumps arise in your arms, and it’s not from the breeze. You turn, and come face-to-face with the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

Xiao clicks his tongue, his pale skin tinted red. “I did not ask for them to resort to matchmaking.”

“You heard that? So you’re not denying that you’re the one who’s been stalking me ever so creepily?”

“Do not disrespect the Adepti with your accusations,” Xiao quickly retorts, like it’s second nature.

But you now know that one of the Adepti has a little crush on you, so you hardly care less about that at this point. “I’d say that invading my privacy is more disrespectful.”

Xiao’s silence embodies a scolded puppy.

You grin, stepping closer. It widens as Xiao stares at you warily, yet doesn’t disappear. The moonlight brings out the color on his face. He’s beautiful and acting unbelievably adorable. “It’s nice to meet you, Adeptus Xiao. Thank you for protecting me during my stay in Liyue.”

It must’ve been the sincerity in your voice that has him clearing his throat, scrambling for some sense of control again. “It’s—It’s my duty.”

“To watch over one person in particular?”

Xiao glares weakly, caught red-handed. “Do not get so presumptuous.” He says, yet he hasn’t disappeared into thin air while talking to you, unlike what Verr Goldet says usually happens. That alone says a lot.

“It’s hard not to when you look at me like that.”

Xiao visibly startles, losing his calm composure by blinking. “How do I look at y—“

“I think I’ll be staying in Wangshu Inn for a little while longer,” you voice aloud, the grin on your lips never once faltering. “I’ll be in your care, Xiao.”

Xiao cannot, in fact, handle this, as his entire face goes up in flames, and he disappears into wisps of teal and black. You’re not too worried. You can still feel his presence, the way you’re already getting used to.

A/N OH MY GOD. A XIAO FIC. FINALLY. FROM SIXOSIX. SELF-PROCLAIMED XIAO MAIN... im shaking as i post this like im so nervous. and i hate this. but out of all the xiao fics i tried to write this one has been the one i actually completed without throwing out halfway through

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you

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exhaslo · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 15- Miguel x Reader (Breeding Kink)

*Requested by several readers ;) *

It all started with just a simple phrase. Just one little thing that you did not think anything of. Two little words that you always said whenever you were stressed out. Who would have thought that your five seconds of brain rot would be what made Miguel finally snap. The man that you had been lusting over was finally making his move and you were not sure if it was a good thing. Who were you kidding, you fucking loved it.

Backtrack to earlier that day. Miguel had called on you for a quick anomaly capture that you were more than eager to join. You had been at the Spider Society for a few months now and tried your very best. You wanted to make an impression. At least to Miguel. He was handsome and just your type. Especially when he spoke Spanish to you. Oh, you could feel a puddle form between your legs. The man was quick to turn you into putty every time he looked at you with those piercing red eyes of his.

And his fangs?!

Oh, when you first saw him smile with those fangs, your imagination went wild. Miguel was built and tall. Who knows what he packed under that suit. You wanted to find out, but you had to do it the right way. You first needed to confess to him, then hopefully date him, then from there on...well, you never got past the confession part. You always felt the words catch at your throat whenever you thought about telling Miguel you liked him.

Anyway, you quickly returned to your mission, wanting to please Miguel. He was waiting for you with this capture and the report. This was going to be your chance to confess...again...

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Miguel stood on his platform, working on some other reports for the spider society. He stopped for a moment to watch you on the cameras. He eyes focused from your determined expression to your curves. That suit was tight against your skin. Skin he wanted to touch. Miguel sighed heavily as he tried to look away. You were just perfect. Miguel had a hard time talking to you because all he wanted to do was ravish you. You were the perfect woman for him. The perfect woman for him to fill with his cum.

"Maldita sea, otra vez. (Damn it, again.)" He groaned under his breathe as his cock harden at the thought.

Miguel could smell your arousal whenever you spoke to him. He always had to find a way for you to leave. He had no choice. He wanted to fuck you dumb. To make you his. To keep you from putting yourself in danger. Miguel knew that these thoughts were animalistic, but to be fair, he was half Spider. Miguel groaned as he stroked his cock, thoughts of breeding you flooded his mind.

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

You cheered as you successfully completed your mission. You dropped off the anomaly and went to find a quiet spot to work on your report. You hummed to yourself, seeing how late it was getting. Hopefully Miguel was still in office by the time you finished. Just thinking about Miguel made your pussy clench. You wanted him bad. Hell, if he told you to get on your back right now, you'd fold.

-----------

Miguel groaned lowly as he looked at the time. He needed to go home. He needed some sleep, but he was waiting. Waiting for you. He'd make up any excuse for why he was still there, just for you. Miguel watched you on the cameras as you made your way to his office. His daily dose of you and your aroma. He just needed to be in your presence for just a little bit in order for him to fuck himself later. Just so that he can listen to your sweet voice.

"Sorry I'm late, I may have dozed off." You lied, hurrying into his office.

Miguel inhaled deeply to your voice. Dozed off? He could smell how strong your arousal was. Miguel approached you, reaching for the paperwork. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand towards his lips. He was acting on instinct while you watched in horror. Your face turned bright red as Miguel casually licked your fingers.

"¿Por qué me haces esto, muñeca? (Why do you do this to me, doll?)" His voice was low as he groaned.

Ohhhh, you were folding.

"S-Sorry, what did you say?" You stuttered, knowing full well that Miguel could smell the fact that you just masturbated.

"I'm not dumb,"

"Fuck me," You whispered ever so lowly, "I-I wasn't think-"

"Que? (What?)" Miguel's eyes widen as he pulled you closer, "Don't say something you'll regret."

You gasped as Miguel dragged you to his desk, pinning you with his hips. He hungrily attacked your neck while his hands roamed your body. This wasn't how you planned things to go, but fuck it. This was one way to get with Miguel. Who would have thought that his senses were that strong? At least you knew that Miguel liked you back.

"Me aseguraré de que no te arrepientas de esas palabras, muñeca. Voy a follarte tan jodidamente bien. Llenarte. (I'm going to make sure you don't regret those words, doll. Going to fuck you so damn good. Fill you.)" Miguel groaned as he rubbed his growing erection against your soaked suit.

"M-Miguel...You know I don't-"

"I know, but you get so wet when I do." Miguel licked your lips as he ripped the bottom half of your suit with his talons, "So I'm going to keep talking to you in Spanish, whether you understand me or not."

You whimpered lowly as the cold air hit your wet pussy. Miguel groaned at the sight, watching your lips twitch, waiting to be filled. He removed the suit around his cock, letting it free. Just the sight of his cock near your pussy was making him drunk. Miguel captured your lips against in a feverish kiss as he held your hips in place. You spread your legs, moaning into him as you felt his cock starting to enter your folds. It was a good thing you masterbated beforehand.

"Tan apretado, pero tan bueno. Mírate esperando que te folle, qué buena chica eres para mí. (So tight, yet so good. Look at you just waiting for me to fuck you, what a good fucking girl you are to me.)"

You threw your head back, moaning loudly as Miguel kept shoving his cock into you. Your walls were sucking him in as he stretched you out. His tip just rubbing against your cervix, making you cry. You tried to look at him, but Miguel started to thrust deeply into you. Your body arched as you moaned his name. He pressed your legs against him, holding your waist so that he kept his hard, deep thrusts into you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Eres tan jodidamente perfecta, muñeca. Voy a follar este coño hasta que se llene de mi semen. Voy a hacerte mía. (A perfect fit. You're so fucking perfect, doll. Going to fuck this pussy until it's filled with my cum. Going to make you mine." Miguel moaned lowly, drunk off your pussy.

"M-Miguel~" You cried out, reaching your orgasm.

"Así es. Ábrete a mí. Tu cuerpo quiere que te dé un bebé, ¿no? (That's right. Open yourself to me. Your body wants me to give you a baby, don't you?)"

You gasped as Miguel placed you in mating position. You bit your lower lip, never experiencing such pleasure. You could have sworn that you heard something about a baby, but at this point, you didn't care. Miguel was fucking you so good that you didn't care if he got you pregnant. You just wanted him to keep fucking you.

"(Y-Y/n), I'm....fuck...gonna fill you up..." Miguel groaned, slamming his cock into you at a more brutal pace.

Your eyes nearly rolled backwards as you felt his cock bruise your cervix. His balls slapping so hard against your skin that it was making your legs and pussy numb. Once he slowed down, you trembled, feeling his hot semen flow into your womb. His cock was still twitching inside you as you milked him dry. Trying to come back to your senses, you breathed heavily, facing Miguel.

"We can count this as a first date," You joked, catching your breathe. Miguel's pupils were blown as he captured your lips in another harsh kiss,

"I'm not done with you, muñeca (doll.)" He pulled out slowly before slamming his cock back into you, pushing his cum back inside, "Puedo follar durante horas, cariño. Deberías haber pensado en venir aquí oliendo tan caliente. Voy a poner un bebé dentro de ti, y si no esta noche, mañana. (I can fuck for hours, sweetheart. You should have thought about coming in here smelling so horny. I'm going to put a baby inside of you, and if not tonight, then tomorrow.)"

You moaned as Miguel kept his pace. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation. You could feel another pool of heat forming. Trying to reach for him, you let out a whine as Miguel grabbed your hands instead. He brought his fangs to your neck while his hips snapped into yours. Miguel groaned, relishing in the sounds the two of you were making. He wanted to make sure he planted a baby inside of you. Trailing his fangs against your neck, Miguel enjoyed watching you tremble,

"Así es, corre para mí. Deja que tu cuerpo se entregue a mí. (That's right, cum for me. Let your body give itself to me.)"

"Miguel!" You cried out, reaching another orgasm. Miguel hummed lowly, holding your hips against,

"Good girl." He smirked before fasting his pace to fill you once more, "Puedes darme otro, verdad? (You can give me another one, right?)

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

You weren't sure how long Miguel kept you in his office. When you woke up, you were in Miguel's home with cum still dripping down your legs. Miguel came to check on you, apologizing for being too rough. When you told him it was fine, he started to give you light kisses. Those kisses then turned into his cock drilling you from behind with you head pressed into the mattress.

"Impresionante, ¿tu cuerpo me extrañó después de unas pocas horas? Mira cuanto semen salió, tengo que rellenarte. No puedo permitir que desperdicies mi preciosa semilla. (Awe, your body missed me after just a few hours? Look how much cum came out, I have to refill you. Can't have you wasting my precious seed.)" Miguel teased.

"M-Mig....I...I gotta-"

"Hm? Gotta what?" Miguel held your hips closer, destroying your poor cunt, "Gotta get pregnant, right? That's what my good girl wants, right?"

"Mhm...Y-Yes~" You moaned out, feeling yourself about to cum, "G-Gimme...P-Please..."

"Así es. Tu cuerpo quiere mi semen. Serías perfecto para mi bebé. Hazme padre. (That's right. Your body wants my cum. You'd be perfect for my baby. Make me a father.)"

You gripped the bed sheets under you, moaning into the pillow as Miguel kept his rough thrusts. At this point, you didn't care if he got you pregnant. His cock drilling your pussy was too good. You got what you wanted and shared your feelings with him, sort of. You just skipped a few steps and found out last minute that he was a breeding kink. That wasn't the worst thing.

"Mhm~" You trembled as you felt Miguel fuck you as he cummed inside your womb.

"Miguel, your assistance is needed on a mission." Lyla appeared for two seconds before vanishing. Miguel cussed lowly, holding your hips as he tried to pull one more orgasm from both you and him,

"I'll be back later, don't waste a single drop, mi vida (my world). If you do, then I'll have no choice but to fill you back up, understood?" Miguel hummed lowly, successfully making you cum again,

"Y-Yes!" You cried out. Miguel chuckled lowly, slamming his cock as deep as he could, giving you one last fill,

"Good."

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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cho-aaacho · 3 months

Text

—My Little Honey

Masterlist

Summary : Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of Gojo's favorite sweaters, stealing his warmth, borrowing his kiss, or basking in all the beauty he shares. So this time, you've decided to steal his sweater. Who knows, he would love this?

"Sensei, could you pass this on to Gojo-sensei?"

"What's this?"

"His sweater. Ijichi-san did the laundry a few days ago, but he hasn't had the time to give it to him. Can you help me out? Thank you, sensei."

You just nodded as Megumi strolled in horror, still wondering why he acted like that all of a sudden. Megumi has always managed to keep his cool in front of everyone. So there's no chance he fears Gojo's presence, right?

A sigh escaped you as you observed Megumi running, chatting with Toge, Panda, and the others. It appeared they were engaged in some discussion, perhaps gossip or something stupid.

You noticed that those kids glanced at you before hurrying towards the entrance and disappearing into another atmosphere.

What could be going on in their minds? Were they scheming something absurd again?

But you're trying to forget all that.

They're likely plotting another scheme like they've been doing to you for the past two months. Like accidentally locking you and Gojo in the teacher's room, switching your sweater with his, or some other trivial prank.

You can't fathom why they're so foolish. Like, why on earth would they lock up Gojo in a room with you? Gojo can practically blow up the school if he wants.

"A sweater?"

You gaze in wonder at the paper bag, tilting your head for a better view. A black fabric with a baby blue gradient peeks out of it. Sending you a sweet memory deep in your mind when smelling the softener.

Seated on the bench, you ponder for a moment, and you find yourself lost in thought, remembering when Gojo wore that sweater.

You rarely see him in casual clothes at school. He always sports that black uniform akin to Megumi's. So, when your gaze falls on him wearing that sweater, revealing his pristine azure eyes, it comes as a shock.

The gentle gradations of blue and black fabric wrapped around his tall figure, paired with gray pants and sporty shoes. He looks much younger than you had imagined.

At first, you didn't even recognize him, assuming he was just some random guy at school. However, after a mumbled comment from Kusakabe, it dawns on you that this gentleman is none other than Gojo Satoru.

You still remember the aroma wafting around your presence, clueless about its cologne brand. It's subtle yet spicy, with an intoxicating fragrance that transports you to another atmosphere. He smells incredibly nice.

As Gojo glides towards you, you realize he's surprisingly tall, with his fingers remarkably pretty and neatly trimmed. The way he talks makes you melt every time he calls your name under those kissable lips.

How can this man be so charming, leaving you dumbfounded every time?

Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of his favorite sweaters. Imagine the soft fabric wrapped tightly around your body, perhaps making you dance under the moonlight until intoxicated.

It's so random, but you crave that experience. You have a weird desire to steal his warmth, borrow his kiss, or bask in all the beauty he shares.

However, you couldn't really do that, could you? After all, you're a teacher like Gojo. The higher-ups might find it weird if they caught wind of such thoughts about your coworker.

So you simply sat there, patiently waiting for Gojo Satoru to arrive, and handed him the sweater. You wonder what outfit he wears this time. Maybe something cute or cool.

Humming to pass the time, you had no idea how long you had been waiting for Gojo. According to Kusakabe, Gojo was engaged in a long conversation with Yaga, indicating something important, especially since he had just returned from Africa.

As twilight blankets the horizon, its orange hue tenderly caresses your body, filling your mind with positive thoughts.

Once again, you find yourself gazing at the sweater, almost breathless, as weird thoughts flood your mind.

An irresistible urge consumes you, telling you to steal the sweater and take it home. Imagine yourself wearing it while you're sleeping. Imagine that Gojo gives it to you as a gift.

You don't care if Gojo might catch you and claim you as a thief. You have to do it.

It was just a little thing; Gojo wouldn't be angry.

So, you took the sweater from the paper bag, feeling the soft fabric caress your fingertips as the scent of fresh detergent danced to your nostrils.

Gazing at the sweater for a moment, you lost yourself in thought, and you found yourself drowning in a desire for him—Gojo Satoru.

You might come across as a bit creepy this time, really, but who can judge you when you have such adorable coworkers? Everyone can lose their minds too.

You swiftly put on that sweater, feeling the warmth from its fabric snugly enveloping your presence. A gentle blush tinged your cheeks as the thought of Gojo hugging you from behind flooded your sweet dreams.

Is it real, or is it just a dream?

"So sweet... So warm. I wonder if Gojo-san is always this warm..."

However, before you have time to change your mind and put the sweater in the paper bag, you feel like someone is tapping on your shoulder—not a forceful touch, but a tender and gentle one.

"Of course I always have this warmth, sensei; do you want to feel that too?"

As you turned your head, there he was—Gojo Satoru—standing right there with a gentle smile gracing his lips. His silver hair is caressed by the hues of orange and red from twilight, making his presence look adorable.

You don't even know how long he has been standing before you. Perhaps he witnessed the way you unfolded his sweater, wearing it as if it were yours and hearing how much you adored it.

"Eh... Gojo—"

"Why are you so surprised? You look like you've seen a ghost. But I wasn't a ghost!"

He tilted his head for a better view, letting out a cute chuckle while casting curious glances at you.

Froze. You stood frozen there. Blurred and foggy. Breathless. How could he stare at you with such eyes? It makes you fall deeper and deeper into his ocean-blue eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to wear your stuff, Gojo-san."

"Eh? Do you think I was angry at you? No. Why would I be angry with someone as nice as you? Beside..."

He leaned in, keeping his head close to yours, and paused between your ears. You could feel Gojo's breath brushing against your ear and his sweet lips almost caressing your earlobe.

Whispering softly, he said, "I won't tell anyone about this, because it's quite embarrassing, right?"

Foggy eyes.

Trembling.

Heart pounding.

Rapidly.

Crimson cheeks.

Helpless.

Why did Gojo Satoru do this? Was he merely teasing you? Did he have a desire to see your embarrassment?

Why?

"I bought too much cake, and I want to share it with you. So, maybe you could join me at my apartment, and you'll have the chance to explore all of my sweaters. What do you say?"

This time, Megumi's prank really worked. But did Gojo call it a prank too?

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months

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How to Protect Yourself from Unwanted Spirits/Entities

Hi friends! 🤗🫶 right away I’m going to say if you’re getting into channeling of any kind, you need to learn to protect yourself from malicious, trickster or unwanted spirits/entities. Its absolutely necessary, not a choice. Our energies can easily be manipulated and used if we don’t protect ourselves! At the end of the day, I learned all of this through experience, but I am not a professional! Please do your research outside of this post.

👎 Lets talk about what not to do 👎

Do not provoke, harass, or invite malicious spirits/entities, or spirits/entities you think you are aware of. Not only will this piss them off, but you are willingly allowing them to have control over your energy, mind and emotions. If you don’t know what is out there, do not provoke it.

Making friends with spirits/entities you haven’t vetted

Vetting is a necessary tool and practice to make sure what you’re talking to is consistent, real, reliable, and overall: safe. If you’re rushing into a spiritual connection without vetting it, you don’t know what you’re talking to and what it’s capable of. You also aren’t aware of its intentions towards you/others.

Ignoring intuition

Have ya’ll seen those horror movies where the main character ignores its intuition? Okay, well in a sense you NEVER ignore your intuition and gut feelings. Biggest mistake you can make is ignoring visuals, feelings, emotions, visceral responses in your body when talking to a spirit/entity. Pay attention to yourself and your intuitive responses. That’ll tell you enough.

👍 Lets talk about what to do 👍

Cleansing, Banishing, and Warding

Do your research into these 3 methods. Cleansing removes any and ALL energy, including positive energy. After cleansing you want to fill your space with peace. This can be done with incense, singing bowls, crystals, spells, sigils, mantras, herbs, etc.

Think of cleansing as a way to remove any dirt and buildup that happened over time, any muck. You can’t get in properly if you don’t remove the muck.

Banishing is a stronger form of removing spirits/entities and unwanted energy. Involves a combination of movements or spells to remove the spirit/entity.

Warding is simpler in the way you create sigils to protect the space. Commonly used on windows, door openings, all corners of the bed. Cleanse first, do not ward yourself and the spirit/entity in the room with you. You can also use herbs to hang by door openings or entrances.

You can also use your voice! Use the power of your voice to command your spiritual boundaries. This can be done by saying “you have no access to my energy, body, or mind.”

The difference of all:

Cleansing clears energy.

Banishing drives spirit/entities out.

Warding prevents outside unwanted energy from coming in.

Do ask for help if you’re unsure

Reach out to someone experienced or understands this type of work, having their expertise will help greatly. Read books on spiritual protection to accumulate knowledge. Do your research. Always stay informed!

Cast a circle of protection before communicating with a spirit/entity

The circle is meant to help with creating a healthy distance between you and the spirit/entity. Always have one. Always close it. Do not leave the circle as that can break it, so make sure you have what you need in it. When done, break the circle and cleanse/ward if needed.

Call upon other Deities/Guides/Angels you trust for protection

The more backup the better.

How to know if you are dealing with trickster spirits/malicious entities

Your intuition/bodily reactions to communicating with said spirit/entity

We all inherently communicate with the spirit world differently. Learn to trust how it comes to you. Whether that’s through visuals, feelings, emotions, bodily sensations, aroma, or all. For example, if your body is feeling exhausted, lethargic, and you know you just cleansed your space, the spirit/entity is pulling on your energy.

If you are experiencing visions of unwanted imagery, it may be how the spirit/entity is communicating to you. Pay attention to what it shows you and how you feel in response. If it’s showing you the images to scare you, ground yourself and close off the session. Cleanse again and ward.

If you’re experiencing sadness, anger or paranoia, and haven’t had that before the spirit session, or do not experience this on the daily, please close the session as the spirit/entity could be inducing these symptoms.

Your body will talk to you. Listen to it first before listening to something you don’t know about.

Inconsistent responses

If you ask the spirit/entity its age, and receive no answer, or different answer each time, it may be trying to mess with you. For example if it told you it was 22, and later said it was a child, either its a different spirit/entity completely, or its messing with you. Always VET to avoid getting in bed with trickster spirits/entities. If its story does not match what it originally said, be concerned.

Actively hurting you/harming you

If the spirit/entity is slamming doors, throwing things to get your attention, or is physically hurting you or others, it’s time to perform stronger rituals/spells to protect yourself. If you begin to experience insomnia after meeting the spirit/entity, or sleep disturbances, its time to cleanse and protect yourself. Sleep disturbances are very common with trickster spirits/entities, and its one way it to increase levels of fear/paranoia through sleep deprivation. Please be careful!

Not every spirit/entity will be malicious or have malicious intent, but it can be draining to deal with or experience. It’s why these methods are put into place to protect ourselves.

Best crystals I have used to help against spirits/entities:

🪻Amethyst calms and relaxes me if I’m encountering a difficult energy. It also creates a protective sheild around the user when interacting with spirits/entities or doing spirit work.

☁️ Clear Quartz amplifies the energy of other crystals, making them overpowered 👍 it is also protective and allows for better communication, and allows for “clear seeing.” Seeing through intentions, motives, and desires.

🖱️ Selenite is gentle and yet an amazing crystal for purifying energy. Anything negative and unwanted will transmute for peace and love.

🤍 Black Tourmaline is powerful and important for protection. It repels negative energy and grounds you, giving you stability.

🪻 Hematite grounds and protects as well, and absorbs negative energy and creates stability.

Thank ya’ll for reading. Please like comment and reblog so this reaches people! 🤗 remain safe & protected!

#devi post #astrology community #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a card #astrology observations #astro posts #pick a pile #astro notes #astrology notes #pick a picture #tarotdaily #asks

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novlr · 4 months

Note

What are some good ways to write about winter?

Winter. is a season of stark contrasts and sensory experiences. It provides the perfect canvas to paint vivid scenes that range from cosy romances to horror-filled stormy nights.

When writing about winter, it’s essential to capture the essence of its chill and the way it can transform the world. Here are some quick tips!

Sights

A blanket of pristine snow covering the landscape

Bare tree branches coated with frost

Delicate snowflakes drifting from the grey sky

Icicles hanging like crystal daggers from rooftops

Colourful clothes stark against the white of snow

Sunlight reflecting off the snow, creating a blinding glare

Animal tracks stamped into the powder

Frozen lakes and puddles

Man-made objects like snowmen and snow angels

Lights shining against dark backdrops

Sounds

Snow muffling and dampening the usual noises

Boots crunching on the frozen ground

People laughing and shouting as they play

Wind howling through barren branches

Ice cracking underfoot or on distant lakes

The silence of a snow-covered world

Shovels scraping against sidewalks

Snowballs hitting their targets with soft thuds

Branches creaking, laden with snow

The rustle of animals keeping warm in burrows

Smells

The fresh, clean scent of snow in the air

Wood smoke curling from chimneys

The earthy aroma of damp wool from coats and gloves

The sharp tang of frost and cold metal

Hot chocolate and marshmallows

Pine needles and the subtle scent of evergreen

Baking spices from holiday treats

The slight ozone smell before a snowstorm

Wet dog from snowball fights with furry friends

Leather and polish from well-worn boots

Activities

Building snow forts and castles

Ice skating on a frozen pond or rink

Snowshoeing through a silent forest

Curling up by the fire with a good book

Skiing and snowboarding down powdery slopes

Brisk walks to enjoy the winter air

Hiking up snowy mountains for panoramic views

Having snowball fights with friends or family

Feeding birds or wildlife braving the cold

Decorating the home with festive lights and ornaments

Character body language

Shivering and huddling for warmth

Rubbing hands together or blowing on them for heat

Shoulders hunched against the biting wind

Slipping and steadying oneself on icy patches

Squinting against the bright snow glare

Snuggling into oversized coats and scarves

Stamping feet to restore circulation

Clapping hands to keep the cold at bay

Arms wrapped around the torso for warmth

Quick, brisk movements to minimise exposure to the cold

Positive descriptions

The serene beauty of a snow-covered meadow at dawn

The invigorating feeling of cold air filling your lungs

The cosiness of a warm blanket on a frosty night

The joy of catching snowflakes on your tongue

The camaraderie of coming together to shovel snow

The nostalgia of winter holidays and traditions

The satisfaction of making the perfect snowball

The wonder of ice patterns on windows

The laughter and excitement of a snow day

The glistening of a frosted evergreen in the sun

Negative descriptions

The biting sting of the wind against exposed skin

The numbness of fingers and toes in the cold

The dreariness of shortened, grey days

The inconvenience of navigating slushy streets

The isolation of a blizzard keeping everyone indoors

The discomfort of wet socks and snow in your boots

The hazard of black ice on sidewalks and roads

The burden of heavy layers and winter gear

The dull ache of a cold that lingers

The gloom that can accompany the lack of sunlight

Helpful adjectives

Biting, chilly, frosty, glacial, icy

Crisp, brisk, sharp, piercing, raw

Fluffy, powdery, crunchy, slick, slippery

Dreary, overcast, bleak, sombre, grey

Cosy, snug, warm, toasty, plush

Twinkling, sparkling, shimmering, glistening

Silent, muffled, still, hushed, quiet

Fresh, clean, invigorating, brisk, bracing

Nostalgic, traditional, joyous, festive, celebratory

Isolating, inconvenient, burdensome, hazardous, gloomy

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miraclewoozi · 9 months

Text

NETFLIX AND-- ? - c.hs

you try everything in your power to try and help your workaholic boyfriend unwind on his night off. you quickly find out that vernon doesn’t know how to just do nothing.

pair; vernon x fem reader. genre; domestic smut. MINORS DNI. wc; 2.3k (short n sweet <3) note; saw a prompt while i was scrolling through some things and it had me feeling feelings. experiencing experiences. apparently i am soft needy for him today. barely proof read. smut tags utc. xoxo

smut tags; soft!dom/service top vernon but he’s also a fucking tease. fingering (f rec). sort of edging, more of a continued stop/start. squirting. implied that vernon has a praise kink (shock horror). let me know if i've forgotten any.<3

in your defence, you started out with perfectly innocent intentions.

vernon works himself too hard. you wish he wouldn’t, but he does — it’s a fact, and even though he’ll always shake his head and deny it, you know it’s true. self care, to him, is working. it’s in the fulfilment from a job well done. it’s the clap on a shoulder from a higher-up that recognises how hard he’s been slaving away at his computer screen. it’s in getting results, and he doesn’t get results if he doesn’t do. if he doesn’t maintain. if he doesn’t nigh-on exhaust himself for the sake of the company he’s employed by.

so, you’ve made a plan. on friday, in the few hours he’ll have free between finishing work and settling down to sleep, you’re going to do whatever you can to look after him.

it starts with dinner. heartfelt, home-cooked food. he drops his bag by the front door and his entire face turns so soft he thinks it might melt clean off him. the aromas from the kitchen hit him and he floats across the apartment like a cartoon, all the way to where you’re stood waiting for him, a sort of dopey grin spreading across every single one of his features.

“that smells so good,” he whines, putting his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. when you ask how his day went, he says he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t care. because he’s home now, and because loves you so much — he doesn’t want to think about anything else.

he clings to you until the food is ready and laid out on the dining table, only pulling himself away when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to be able to have his dinner sitting in your lap.

you eat together with the lights slightly dimmed, a few candles illuminating the table. you talk, a little, but the quiet that surrounds the bubbles of conversation is just as comfortable, so neither of you are bothered when your minds are more focused on the food in front of you than conversing with each other. after, he helps you clear the dishes and stack them over by the sink: you’ll deal with them later on.

your hand finds his, then, fingers intertwining, and vernon lets himself be dragged all the way to your bedroom. he changes out of his work clothes, tosses them into the laundry basket, and slips into an old, worn, stained and atrociously ugly pair of sweatpants instead. he bypasses a shirt at your instruction and lies face-down with his head nestled between the pillows.

with one of his own playlists already filling the air around you, you straddle over his hips and start to massage your way up his back. your hands smooth over his skin, thumbs working at a couple of tight spots that have him gasping and grunting, threading his fingers through his own hair to try and keep still. it hurts a bit, but it’s a good kind of pain. so, he lets you work your magic on him; vernon feels all soft and loose, a bit like a deflated balloon animal, by the time you sit up enough for him to be able to roll over between your legs and face you again.

“i thought we could watch a movie tonight, too,” you say quietly, just barely audible over the soft r&b tune in the background. your fingertips tickle up and down his sides as you speak; he sighs at the softness of your touch. “anything you want.”

“what’s all this in aid of, exactly?” he asks, quirking up an eyebrow. his voice is deep and kind of rough-edged. the way you like it most.

you laugh, quietly, and bend low to kiss the corner of his mouth, caging him in with your forearms either side of his head. “just… because i love you.”

his hands snake up your body to rest against your cheeks and he holds you in place for a second longer. one of the many, many things you love about vernon is the way he kisses you. every time, like it’s the first time. (a symptom of being a closeted rom-com enthusiast, perhaps?) but each press of his lips to yours is always so infused with passion: even the small ones, like this. with his eyes closed, his nose pressed to your cheek, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a shy smile. there’s adoration in every single moment.

you roll off him when he lets go of you and sit up against the headboard, letting him go through the motions of choosing something for you to watch. a few minutes (and no less than three coin tosses to make the decision) later, you open an arm out for him at the sound of the movie starting, and he curls up into your side. his head rests peacefully on your shoulder, one of his legs hooked over one of yours, your arm snaked around his back. you settle into each other’s embrace in a way that you’ve not had time to do in a long while, matching hums of tranquillity vibrating in both of your throats.

the grand budapest hotel has only been playing for about twenty minutes when you feel him start to move slightly, the tips of his fingers gliding slowly across the hem of your t-shirt. you don’t make anything of it at first, because vernon has always had slightly restless hands, no matter what he’s doing. this is very normal for him. he’s probably just mindlessly feeling the fabric beneath his touch as he watches one of his favourite movies.

another few minutes pass and you feel his nails drag against the bare skin of your tummy. you raise an eyebrow and look at him, but his eyes are trained on the tv, even if one side of his mouth is lifted up in a sly kind of smile.

“what are you doing, babe?” you ask him. he lifts his head from its place on your shoulder and shrugs.

“nothing.”

“mhm, sure you aren’t.”

his hand moves down, then. down, towards your shorts. down, to where his palm wraps around your thigh, half resting on the material of your clothes and half sitting on your bare leg. his fingers make small, light, circular movements against your skin and he nudges your other thigh over slightly with the knee he settled between your legs earlier, effectively spreading you open for him. just a little.

just enough.

“vernon,” you chuckle, but you don’t make any attempt to move your legs back together. “come on, relax. watch your movie.”

“i am,” he says matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the screen. “wish i could say the same for you, though.”

“you’re terrible,” you sigh.

“mm. no, i’m not.”

he creeps further and further up your thigh, until his hand has slipped completely under your loose fitting sleep shorts and he’s effectively pulling them to one side. a breath catches in your throat and you accidentally arch a little as you feel him brush over your underwear.

“watch the movie,” he says, a little more sternly, and you swallow thickly but settle down more comfortably again. if this is how he chooses to decompress… who are you to stop him, really?

but he knows you too well. knows your body like it’s his own. knows exactly how to make you tick without making you jump his bones and take control. his thumb starts to trace small circles over your covered clit, eliciting quiet gasps from your mouth, but every time you react – what he deems to be – a little too much, he stops. removes the pressure. leaves you to squirm.

“vernon,” you sigh after the third time, agitated but needy and squaring your jaw at his teasing. your panties are soaked by now and you need to feel more of him, but your boyfriend seems to be more than happy to work you up on his own terms. how long will he keep going like this for? there’s at least an hour left of the film; surely he won’t make you wait that long?

“focus, baby.”

or maybe, he will.

his lips find home at the base of your neck and he presses a series of small kisses to your skin, returning his thumb to your panties and rubbing you through them a little harder, pressing the fabric into your heat, smirking at the way your arousal seeps through them and coats his fingertips. your breaths start to pick up again, and you do everything you can to stop him from noticing, but he’s maybe a little too caught up sucking the sweet spot behind your ear to notice how fast your heart is beating from the way he touches you.

so when he drags your underwear out of the way and slides an elegant finger through your folds, you really don’t think you can be blamed for the fact that an unstifled moan leaves your lips.

vernon disagrees, though. because of course he fucking does.

“baby,” he challenges you, his finger just millimetres away from your clit when he stops moving it. “come on. you wanted to help me unwind tonight, didn’t you? that’s what all this was. you were being good to me.”

you nod at him, and he kisses your neck again.

“then watch.”

keeping your mouth tightly shut and fighting against the noises that your body so desperately wants you to make, you let him continue. you let him trace your arousal over your clit, let him dip his finger lower and press just enough inside you that your walls flutter around it. you let him work deeper, and add a second, and try your best not to clamp your legs around his poor wrist when he brushes against the sweet-spot inside you the way that only he knows how.

“s’that feel good, baby?” he asks you.

your eyes are all but glazed over and you don’t think you really know what’s going on in the movie anymore. you can’t remember the names of the characters. is there even a plot? or is it all just pretty, symmetrical imagery now? who the hell is the person that just showed up – surely you haven’t seen him, yet? fuck, you’re completely, hopelessly lost in his fingers and the way they’re buried inside your pussy. every reaction you want to give, you can’t, and it’s so difficult.

but you nod at him anyway, because the least you can do is tell him he’s doing a good job. he likes to hear that sort of thing.

and if there’s any dialogue in the grand budapest hotel, you don’t have a damn clue what’s being said. his fingers move faster inside you and the heel of his hand puts enough pressure on your clit that all of your muscles are tight in an attempt to do what he’s asked. the only sounds in your ears are the smacking of his lips on your throat and the lewd noises that come from the way your pussy sucks his digits in deeper.

you feel like a little toy, wound up to high heaven. waiting, waiting, waiting to be released. waiting to fall into oblivion.

“vernon,” you gasp eventually, silently begging that he won’t stop, that he won’t leave you hanging when you’re so close to the edge.

thankfully, he doesn’t.

“mhm?” he curls his fingers again, a little harder, making you buck up into his hand. whatever game he was playing, he seems to be moving past it now. maybe he wants you to come as much as you do.

“close,” you strain. he nods, slowly, positioning his wrist differently so that he can lay his thumb over your clit instead. the much more deliberate pressure has you seconds away from seeing stars.

“m’gonna ask you about this movie tomorrow, you know,” he chuckles, but he doesn’t slow. he fucks his fingers into you over and over, bringing you closer and closer, and when your toes curl, when you grip his wrist with one hand, when your head falls back against the headboard –

euphoria rushes through you. wetness gushes from you. you feel your pussy contract around his fingers, hugging them tight even though your release tries to expel them; he lets you ride the high out, lets you make a mess on his hand as your hips roll down to meet him, a series of whines and moans falling from your lips. his own continue their gentle caress of your neck. you’re in bliss.

he pulls his fingers from you when you tug at his wrist to tell him to do so, lifting them to his mouth and sucking them clean of your arousal and your release. you close your eyes when he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, and his (granted, still kind of sticky) hand comes up to cup your face.

adoration in every moment. like it’s the first.

“don’t bother asking me about it,” you tell him as he pulls away, bumping your nose against his and hearing, from the quiet wet smacking sound they make, how his lips grow into a smile. “i don’t know anything that happened.”

“this is the fourth time i’ve tried to get you to watch this movie, y/n,” he chuckles.

“and this is the fourth time we’ve ended up here. what, does tilda swinton in that ugly wig really do it for you or something?”

“shut up,” he snorts, ever so gently pushing your cheek to move your head away from him. “no-one ever said you had to give into me that easily.”

“oh, you shut up,” you huff, closing your thighs and feeling how your shorts and panties cling to you uncomfortably, only half covering you after he failed to put them back properly. “i was supposed to be helping you chill out. it’s not my fault that you can’t go five minutes without getting handsy.”

“it’s absolutely your fault,” he challenges, getting to his knees and facing you. you can see his cock tenting his sweatpants now and you’d be lying to say that it doesn’t stir something in the depths of your stomach. “you know i can’t resist you in those shorts.”

“you’re so stupid,” you grin, opening your legs up for him to settle between, and he moves over straight away.

“yeah, well,” he chuckles, reaching down to pull your t-shirt up off your head. “you happen to love my kind of stupid.”

thank u sm for reading!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated!<3

#vernon smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #hansol smut #choi hansol smut #vernon chwe smut #vernon x reader #j writes.#*

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dmitriene · 3 months

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT LEON WITH FEMENINE GF.

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, smut, retired leon, domesticity, cunnilingus, lack of dialogues pairing: bf leon kennedy x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

leon had always been a man of action, a typical hero in a world shrouded in viscous darkness, full of horrors, but now, in the quiet embrace of a relatively suburban home, he had found a life in which there would be no zombies or bioweapons, it was a step into a life that revolved around only gentle domestic rhythms, where his retirement did not mean inactivity, but rather a different kind of activity, one that is completely dedicated to you.

the soft hum of the coffee machine echoed through the spacious, bright kitchen, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sunlight, while leon stood in the aisle, dressed in a slightly rumpled plain tshirt and sweatpants, his usually even mop of hair now disheveled, sticking out from side to side like branches in a nest, but it wasn’t the aroma of coffee or the cozy kitchen that he was more than familiar with that attracted his attention, — it was you.

you, being his girlfriend, moved gracefully and quite airily around the kitchen, moving through the space as easily as if it were a dance floor, your laughter rang like bells, caressing his ears, and this sound became the sweetest melody in leon’s life after he went out on retirement, when you smoothly turn in his direction with a mischievous smile, a freshly baked tray of cupcakes in your hands, the corners of your lips curved into the sweetest greeting.

— «good morning, lee!» you greet, walking up to him with the scraping of slippers on the parquet floor and standing up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek, he is instantly enveloped by a tickling, light aroma of vanilla and warmth, an aroma that has become synonymous with the comfort of your presence next to him.

— «good morning, sweetie» leon responds with a baritone languid from sleep, and his gaze softens as he looks at you, there was a certain lightness in his baby blues, a satisfaction that usually speaks of a life well lived, the wrinkles on his slightly pinkish, after a kiss, face, that have accumulated over the years years of persistent and diligent service as an agent seemed to disappear as soon as he looked at you.

sitting in a cozy breakfast nook, usually decorated with a vase of flowers, which leon tries to replace as soon as the old ones wither, with cute knitted placemats under cute, flower painted plates and mugs that add tenderness, you enjoyed the silence of the morning with muffins and coffee.

leon was more than once surprised by the contrast — his past, slowly disappearing between his fingers like sand, full of chaos and dangers, and now this calm home life with you, in which he found solace in everyday life, in the mundane things about which you chatted and your voice was a ringing babble resounded from the kitchen and through the windows, in a softness that enveloped him immediately as soon as he was near, gentle interior design, soft, not too colorful colors, the things he shared with you and thanks to you.

from time to time you walked around the city, be it just a walk or for groceries, leon loved to spend maximum of his free time with you — he always, like a chivalrous gentleman, opened the car door for you, a small but painfully important gesture that made you smile softly and bubble a pleasant warmth in his chest, and on the streets, which were full of the hustle and bustle of everyday life, following the click of small heels on your new, cute shoes, his attention was focused exclusively on you, while you, in turn, looked at the shops located on both sides with burning eyes.

while you are walking together, a warm hand slides to your lower back, fingers draw graceful patterns on the fabric of your airy dress, neutral color, carefully emphasizing your body shape with its cut and cute elements, be it ruffles or bows, creating a delicate, fragile external visual that makes leon’s eyes squint when he looks at you, his love opens up just like a flower, a connection that transcends the need for loud gestures, and is noticeable precisely in the subtleties — shared glances, laughter, even.

while you explore the endless number of shops on the horizon, buying the necessary things for the home, kitchen towels, some charming boxes for sorting food and things, squinting and comparing one thing with another, trying to understand which is better before you take two, leon's keen, still squinting gaze scans the surroundings — a reminder of his days as an agent, he could not get rid of the instincts honed in the line of duty, but now those protective, obsessive glances were riveted on you while his thick, broad hand found yours, fingers gently intertwined with yours, silently promising to be there, when you contentedly, almost purring, leaned on his hand, walking in step.

you was spending most of your days together in quiet communication, be it watching a movie, cooking together, or just your babbling about some stories from the past to which he joined, pressing your tender body into his, hard, slightly limp over the years, intertwining his fingers with the strands your hair, running along the edges of some sophisticated hairpins, one of those that you often choose together, allowing leon to enjoy the simple joys of everyday life.

one lazy sunday afternoon, the two of you found yourself in the backyard of the house, basking in the smoldering rays of the sun, a light breeze playing with the strands of your hair as you lay in a hammock chair with a book in your hand, cheerfully flipping through the pages every time your eyes reached the end of a chapter, with a slight movement of your fingers, scrolling further, while leon, pleased with the way you were reading, sat next to you with a satisfied smile on his face.

— «i still can't quite believe i can spend my days peacefully like this» leon thought out loud and completely without reason, looking intently at you with tenderness seeping in his eyes.

you looked up from the book, a playful sparkle appeared in your eyes, and much more undisguised affection, answering him loudly velvetly, caressing his ears as if scratching under the chin, riveting his attention to you with his half tilted head — «well, you're a hero who deserves happily ever after, aren't you?» a playful remark as you tap your nails on the cover of the book, folding it into your lap.

he just grins, the sound turning into a harmonious melody following the rustle of the wind as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon, turning the sky pastel pinks and oranges as he joins you, not on the hammock, but between your legs, letting his knees press into the grass when he strokes your legs from toes to knees, velvety, plush skin without the barrier of shoes during a moment of relaxation, lifting up to round thighs and leading along the edges of another charming dress, while he says almost purring, a deep baritone bubbling from the very chest as he presses against your naked flesh — «i think so, especially when you're around me, darling»

you giggle, bury your fingers in his soft strands, running them over and squeezing until the slightly grown stubble lightly scratches and tickles the skin of your legs, he covers it with kisses, warm and short, forcing you to put the book completely down from your lap while he moves a little higher, forcing the hem of your dress to hide him more and more, and you sigh slightly raggedly, embarrassedly when he kisses the inside of your thigh, and you mutter, biting your glossy lips — «what are you intending to do, leon?»

he tilts his head as if innocently, smiling like a cheshire cat and wetting his lips with his tongue, rubbing and warming your thighs with the pads of his thumbs, while he himself crawled a little higher, before his warm breath slightly covers the cotton of your panties, and his face rests against your clothed pussy, bumping his nose and pressing his tongue flatly on your centre, one movement is enough to set your nerves on fire, and the fabric gets slightly wet from the slick that dribbles out, as he purrs contentedly, another sound rumbling deep within his chest — «to take my happily ever after, sweetheart, so sit pretty still f'me, mhm?»

next thing, leon's fingers dig into your thighs, spreading them apart as he begins to caress your drenched heat through the fabric of your panties.

his tongue presses flatly against your swollen clit, tracing maddening circles that send tremors running throughout your entire body, and the cotton between you and his skillful mouth does little to soften the sensations, but only increases friction on the clit swollen from arousal and heat.

with every flick of his tongue you grip his thick, slightly coarse hair tighter, a silent plea for more and leon literally growls into your cotton covered cunt in response to the grip in his hair, the vibrations causing a shiver of pleasure to run down your spine, allowing you voluntarily arch your wetness into his mouth, fluttering your eyelashes and watching his head slowly move with every lick and stroke.

he's relentless, his tongue working with a fervor matched only by the burning desire in his baby blue eyes, the taste of your slick arousal filling his mouth, fueling his desire to please you and causing him to push you closer to the edge.

as the fabric of your panties becomes wet from the mixture of his saliva and your slick, and your moans become louder, turning into an incoherent babble of — «yesyesyes, don't stop, lee, just like that — here! yes! yessmngh!» leon feels you pulsate more actively and your hole clenching around nothing, the grip on your hips intensifies, his fingers dig into your flesh before sliding up, teasing the edges of your soft underwear.

long, neat fingers push your wet panties to the side, exposing your shiny, swollen folds to his hungry gaze, and he wastes no time, his tongue immediately diving into your wet cunt with a hunger bordering on savage.

his sweeping movements from your clenching hole to your trembling clit cause waves of pleasure to run through your body, the laps of his mouth on your sensitive mound causes a mixture of moans and sobs from your trembling lips, your embarrassment that someone can hear this is drowned out by the all consuming ecstasy, deafening ears.

— «that's it, so pretty, so sweet» leon's purr vibrates against your smooth skin, a deep hum of satisfaction as he savors the taste of your arousal, he feasts on you with an insatiable appetite, his tongue mercilessly attacking your throbbing core.

your body reacts instinctively, a stream of sweet juices gushing from inside you, giving away just how high your arousal is, the sound of your wetness mixing with lewd slurping sounds as leon continues to devour you sloppily, his actions relentless and focused solely on bringing you to the top of pleasure and more, beyond.

with every movement, sucking and lapping he brings you closer to the edge, your moans become stronger, louder, less controlled even as you bite your swollen, bitten lips, the sensations overwhelm your senses, blurring the line between pleasure and the pain of sensitivity as your body shudders, teetering on the brink of stunning liberation, very close.

delving deeper, his tongue plunging into your clenching hole with unrelenting eagernessc and ease, he skillfully flicks and teases your folds, alternately sucking on your twitching clit and penetrating you with his skilled tongue.

his plump lips and chin are slick with a mixture of your arousal and his saliva, evidence of his hunger and sloppiness, he watches you carefully as you throw your head back, your body shudders and arches in pleasure, and baby blue eyes closely watch every goosebump on your skin with dilated pupils.

as soon as you reach the brim, tight coil of ecstasy finally snaps and your vision suddenly goes dark as your eyes roll back, your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, your moans turn into guttural screams, free when you release them, your cum fills leon's mouth and he hungrily drinks every drop, savoring the taste of your release on his tongue, slurping greedily and purely animalictically.

his movements don't falter as he continues to caress your sensitive, stimulated clit, prolonging your pleasure as aftershocks ripple through your body, the intensity of the moment rough, reeking of lust, yet unbearably tender, as are the movements of his fingers, drawing soothing circles on your thighs.

you are lost in a haze of ecstasy, your body shaking from the force of your release, but he remains steadfast, his focus unwavering as he makes sure every drop of pleasure is extracted from your trembling body completely as you slowly come to your senses, and there is a tension growing between his legs, but he will deal with it later, now he watched how charmingly your absolutely sopping folds trembled and pretty tight hole, relaxed after his tongue, clenched around nothing, rising his gaze further, to your heaving chest, still feeling the weight of your fingers in his hair.

he kisses your legs with a slow movement of his lips, descending from your thigh to your knee, drawing along the way transparent stripes from your slick on his lips, but in his opinion you look even more beautiful this way, completely dazed and drunk on pleasure, limp on soft pillows, listening to his rough, peaceful purring — «so pretty, my beautiful darling» which vibrate through the skin, preventing the butterflies in your stomach from calming down.

#.𐙚july's writings #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon smut #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy comfort #leon scott kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fic #domestic leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic

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bcyhoods · 3 months

Note

lovefool — “you’re welcome to stay, if you want” w eddie!!

librarian!reader is always calling my name so i needed to do something before i combusted | 1.1k fem!reader

Eddie’s got his feet propped up on the study table and his chair teetering on its hind legs. The dull sound of his rings tapping the hardcover in his hands fills the immediate space. Despite the fact that he’s actually read this particular horror novel at least thrice before, today it only serves as bookworm-ish guise.

The boy aimlessly flicks through the pages, eyes reflexively leaping over entire paragraphs to peak over at the reception desk. With each glance, he feels his heart start racing, his stomach starts flipping. And it has nothing to do with Stephen King, everything to do with you.

You’re sitting behind the polished wood with a pair of deep auburn-colored reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Every so often, they slide down and prompt you to scrunch the muscles in your face and wiggle them back up. Whenever you ultimately give up and push them back into place with your finger, Eddie smiles to himself.

The pair of you have spoken quite a handful of times, but it only took Eddie seconds within that first interaction to be smitten. You’d worn a pretty color on your lips, an even prettier smile behind it. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the tower of Tolkien novels he’d placed in front of you to check out, then you’d complimented his taste, then his hair. Then as if to seal the deal, you reached underneath the desk to retrieve a flimsy bookmark with a map of Middle Earth and placed it on top of the stack.

Now, he’s proud to be a frequent library-goer. Admittedly he feels a little silly about it, at first. But the flash of recognition that crosses your face before you wave at him makes him forget.

You float through the building, burning hot under his watchful eye, shutting off yellow desk lamps and bidding farewell to patrons with a sweet smile. The closer you get to him, the more the familiar aroma of cigarettes and his cologne seem to engulf you. It’s your turn now to have your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your saccharine voice cuts through the silence and has him immediately closing his book. He gazes up at you, big brown eyes boring right into yours. Like he knows you’re about to swat his feet, he grins and kicks his legs down onto the floor.

“Hey,” he sighs out.

“Carrie’s that good, huh? ”

Eddie’s head twists in confusion. It’s like your presence sent him face first into a stupor, and now he’s racking his brain trying to figure out what you were asking. Only when you smirk and point at him does he realize you’re talking about the book. The book that’s in his hand, that he was meant to be reading this whole time.

“Oh! Yeah, Carrie,” he confirms with a gummy smile as he waves the novel up, “What can I say? The lady calls to me. You finished it yet?”

You wince at the question. A few weeks ago you’d each recommended each other a book, per Eddie’s suggestion. He’d read your recommendation within the week, returning it with a broad smile that made you feel giddy. It’s taken you a little longer. He sees it all over your face and gasps.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read it, yet? You’re really hurting my feelings here, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your heart catch in your throat and stumble on your words for a second. “It’s—I just…I started it! I promise. I just haven’t had time to read the whole thing,” you explain through a shy smile.

Eddie chuckles at your suddenly bashful demeanor before an idea pops into his mind. Even thinking about it makes him blush. He doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on the idea of your rejection before he’s blurting it out.

“I can read it to you.”

You watch him, surveying his expression to find any hint that he’s joking. But he’s got a doe-eyed look on his face. He’s dragging one of his rings across the curve of his lips with uncertainty.

“You’d…? You’re kidding,” you decide matter-of-factly.

He vigorously shakes his head, hair flying in every direction as he throws his hand over his chest. A bright smile shines across his face. “Cross my heart. I’ve been told I got a shot in the audiobook industry. Might even hear me on one of those little cassettes in the future.”

The boy is lying through his teeth. It’s rare that someone indulged in a positive conversation with him, let alone complimented his voice. Though, it makes you huff out a laugh, maybe a little too loud for a library setting and he swears his heart is about to break out of his rib cage.

You nod at him rather emphatically and agree, “Must be your charisma.” Your hand drops to pick at the chipped wood of the table and your gaze drops with it to hide from him.

“Hey, your words.” He tosses his hands up in the air, smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat before asking, “What do you say? Think it’d be good practice for me to have a live audience.”

He looks so genuine, a soft expression taking over rough features. His leg bounces under the table with anticipation. His fingers move to where yours are, and he hesitantly reaches his pinky to your own. It’s just a tap, but it sends a tingle up your entire arm and has you reciprocating the touch.

He’s making it so hard for you to say no. You glance up at the clock on the nearby wall and frown. “Well, right now I’m kinda supposed to tell you that the library closes in a few minutes.”

Eddie spares a glance behind you and realizes that he’s the last person on this floor, maybe the entire building.

“Oh. Yeah, well…some other time.” His shoulders sink just slightly before he’s standing upright and smiling at you. “I’ll get out of your hair, m’lady.” He bends at the waist to bow at you, waving his arms theatrically.

You’re smiling at him again, something warm and entirely too sweet. As he turns to the exit, you feel something tug at your chest. Like he’s taking a piece of you with him. It has you calling out before you’re able to stop yourself.

“Eddie?”

He twists back and hums.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I mean I’d love to take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind following me around while I reshelve some returns?” A nervous laugh falls from your mouth as you hitch your thumb towards the non-fiction shelves. Eddie spots your other hand still picking at the chipped wood.

He beams at you with flushed cheeks and a puffed chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#the long forgotten celebration……………#im workikg throigh them! im motivated mow! not to fret!#ily roma thank you for sending this in <4333362525 #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✸ 100 celebration!#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #joseph quinn

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nyashykyunnie · 2 months

Text

˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: Hurt, No comfort, Character Death, Terminal Illness]‼️

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part Two ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I Have To Breath, But Every Inhale Feels More Like a Punishment From The Gods ] ¡! ❞

White walls were all you have ever known for all your life.

Christmas? Inside White Walls.

Your Birthdays? Inside White Walls.

Your first kiss? Inside White Walls.

You hated the sight of it all, you hated it so much that the smell of this room was starting to have an aroma of death.

And yet, Jinwoo never complained.

He visits everyday without a fail, always on time, maybe a little late here and there because he was a hunter– But he is always there, sliding open the hospital door with a beaming smile and lips ready to give you a caress.

Jinwoo always had food with him, even when he comes into the hospital room with a battered look.

Clothes stained with grime and dirt, a shoe with a hole, a face disheveled with some dried blood he failed to wash up earlier from rushing— And hair so messy you swear there must be a nest inside those soft and delicate jet black strands of his.

You would scold him with anger and yet he just laughs it off, muttering "I'm sorry" over and over while he gently takes your hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft and thin hand of yours.

But you knew he wasn't listening to you, and for that, you could only sigh.

Jinwoo always appeared calm and happy.

...Because if he shows you the turmoils and anxiety he has hidden in him, what would happen to you?

You're already dying.

Your skin is paler than last week, your body is growing thinner everyday, your voice is growing quieter and more ragged, your breathing is slower and heavy, the tubes strewn around you were increasing in number as if it's turning into a complete amalgamation of horror—

Jinwoo is losing you.

He knew that so well, the doctor had already told him weeks ago that you don't have much time.

So he desperately tries his outmost best to spend as much time with you, even if he comes in bloody from his raids— He needs to see you everyday.

Even when he went through the double dungeon, he went straight to your side the moment he came in, and to ligthen your mood he would joke around and say you two can now be bed buddies since you're both sick.

Jinwoo will strive to make you smile, even if it hurts him inside he supresses that anguish deep down inside because he knows you must be in much more pain.

He will never know what it's like to always receive these different medications that are so disgustingly unpleasant to the mouth, he will never know how much the constant injections would hurt, he will never know how tiresome it is to constantly be monitored, he will never know how much sadness you go through when he isnt there.

Jinwoo needs to be happy in front of you.

He just got back from the system's first dungeon, he was going to tell you all about how he did because he knew you love listening about his raids even though they are scary.

But as he approaches the familiar number of you hospital room— Nurses and doctors were running in and out in rapid succession.

He could hear the doctor barking out orders, counting down and screaming Clear.

1....

2....

3....

"We're sorry Mr Sung." The same doctor comes out, the heartbreak in his eye evident as the hunter flung himself inside the room.

There was a ringing inside Jinwoo's ear, it was so high pitched and painful.

But really, it wasn't a ring.

It was Jinwoo screaming at the top of his lungs.

A scream so full of pain and anguish that everyone who hears his scream felt shudders— But even that, even that could never compare to what Jinwoo feels right now.

His heart felt like it was about to explode, his organs felt like they were twisting and contorting inside his body, his muscles felt so stiff that he swears he must have been made out of stone, the lock in his throat wouldn't go away no matter how much he cried out.

Tears would stream down his face.

And the medical staff could do nothing more than to close the door to let Jinwoo have his last moments.

Jinwoo would kiss his beloved's hand that was so cold, he would beg and beg for them to wake up— To call out his name, to scold him, to smack his head because he is such a reckless idiot.

He implores, "Open your eyes... Open them, I'm right here. Woowoo is here... Please, please come back."

But no answer would reach his ears, not even the faintest of breaths would reach his ears.

He tried to listen to your heartbeat, but there was nothing there for him to listen to.

Hours, he spent hours inside that room until he finally came out to call a medical staff.

Jinwoo's voice was horse, almost like he even lost it.

His eyes were puffy and his expression drained of color

Everyone though his expression couldn't worsen any further.

But in your funeral, he was empty, complete empty.

Mindless as he watches your coffin lower, numb as the dirt piling up on the elegant Mahogany wood.

He stood there, unmoving as the last dirt was thrown and fixed.

Jinwoo stayed there even in the rain.

Just staring.

It was as if he's waiting for a hand to emerge from the dirt like those stupid movies he used to watch with you.

But no.

No hand would ever emerge.

The sweet sound of your voice calling out his name, he could never hear it again directly.

Since them, Jinwoo would abuse his body through the system.

Ceaselessly leveling up in godspeed, pushing himself past his limits as a form of punishment.

It was his way of showing how much he hated himself.

He always though of that day, had he come in a little earlier, had he beaten that godforsaken snake a little more earlier— Then perhaps he could have heard your voice one last time, perhaps he could have said goodbye more properly.

Over and over and over and over and over.

He would rise, he would level up, the sound of the system dings becoming sickeningly disgusting the more time passed by.

And soon, he was titled as the world's strongest hunter.

... He was also the most lifeless of them all.

Grey eyes always empty, it was as if he was merely a shell of a person.

Jinwoo never really reacts to anything other than his familr, the few times he has shown emotion— Was when he was furious.

And everytime that happens, the world would tremble in absolute horror.

Other than that? He just did his job.

People would call him all sorts of things, insult him but not once has he ever batted an eye at them.

When he isn't in the gates, taking care of Ahjin guild, or leveling up— He would often go by your grave.

He'd buy all sorts of flowers, from your favourites to whatever he thinks looks absolutely pretty and you would certainly have loved. Jinwoo would lean behind the stone wall, his head tilted back as he tells you about his day. How it's been, how silly Jin-ah has been, how ridiculous Jinho was last night whole drunk, and what he's been up to.

He'd talk on and on, even if he knew there wouldn't be a reply.

But somehow, the breeze blowing felt like it was the stand-in for your voice, the scent of leaves seemed to carry your scent— Everything around him was reminding him of you.

Or maybe it was just his senses is making him delusional because desperately needed you by him.

After all, he was slowly going more and more mad.

It's been so hard, yesterday, he was a struggling hunter who has lost the love of his life.

Today, he is the world's champion.

He was to be the war hero thrown to save the world.

"I don't know if I can do it" Jinwoo weakly mumbles as he continues to lean on your grave as if it were your arms comforting him. "I've killed a few monarchs, Antares only remains yet somehow... I still feel anxious. I could really... Really use some of your words, love. But I know that's impossible."

It wasn't really.

He could technically reanimate your being, but he never did. as much as it kills him, he wanted you to rest, he never wanted to use his wicked power just to see you.

Not having you by his side is his punishment for not coming any sooner to stay by your side that dreadful day.

"Well... If I don't make it, it's fine." Jinwoo mumbles, looking up at the starless night sky. "I'll see you again soon, wherever it may be, no matter how many lifetimes it take, no matter how far I go, I'll come back and see you again. So wait just a little longer, my love. Woowoo is coming home"

#sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jin woo x reader #solo leveling x reader #ore dake level up na ken #sung jinwoo headcanons #get this to one hundred likes then I'll make part 2//jK

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katiapostsss · 1 month

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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 . . anakin skywalker

🎬//

teaser:

BUT I JUST MISS YOU,

AND I JUST WISH YOU

WEREEE A BETTER MAN...

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : modern! anakin x fem! reader

warnings! :

swearing ,, angst

SUMMARY: the last person you expect at your door is your unofficial ex boyfriend of 3 months, in need of a favor... in need of a date.

based off this request (hope you like it ❤️)

〰️

the microwaved mac and cheese, laying pulled apart on your plate, was left completely uneaten. you weren't necessarily hungry, and you knew it even while making it, too. but maybe you did so just to grasp onto the semblance of a routine you still had. the incandescent, dim glow of your overhead light normally cast your small, cramped dining room into somewhat of a cozy aroma, but now, it brought shadows of hollowness along with it, much like your empty stomach.

watching the metal of your fork dig lazily into the small noodles, you leaned back in your chair, free hand on your thigh, and heaved an elongated and heavy exhale. your pinned up hair might've been collecting dust considering how long you had been sitting there, staring. night was slowly luring your town into its cave and pinching the wick of its candle until the flame kneeled and gave up.

biting your lip, you finally stood, pushing the chair from your legs, grabbing your mac and cheese and fork and walking the short distance to your kitchen. you emptied the contents of your plate into the pullout trashcan and turned on the sink, giving the water a moment to heat up before running the glass and metal beneath. when your house murmured with the shrill tune of the doorbell, you nearly rolled your eyes in disgruntlement, then straightened in confusion. who on earth was at your door on a random tuesday at 7 pm? setting the plate and fork onto the bottom of the sink, you shut off the water and shook your hands semi-dry, walking the hallway to your front door.

you patted your palms onto your jeans before you unlocked the entrance, turned the knob, and pulled the wood open. remembrance in a coat stood on the other side. almost immediately, your heart seized in your chest, the weight of memory hitting you in the all the wrong places. him. him. sweat collected in your palms, and a feeling of slight horror followed behind the shock. what was he doing here? what was your unofficial ex boyfriend doing here? when was the last time you even saw him? how many months ago was it that you had given up and packed your bags, leaving his empty house without so much as a goodbye. thinking so foolishly that maybe, if you fled, he'd chase after you. he'd care again. but no. you hadn't talked since. you didn't need to. prior to your undeclared breakup, there had been so much incessant fighting, that he must've known it was over the second he came back to his completely vacant house. no closure was needed, either. he didn't go after you, even if you wanted him to. that was that.

and yet, there he was. standing in front of you. staring. it was quiet a moment. he looked more shocked that he was there than you were. in fact, you didn't look shocked at all. your face was void of any emotion. the only giveaway that you were surprised was the slight raise of your eyebrows. and he... he was just as you recalled him to be. dark, blue eyes, framed by long lashes and low-set brows. soft curls that fell in waves over his forehead. the face you recalled late in the night. in your dreams. when you'd wondered why you had left in the first place, when you considered so thoroughly, just going back. going back to him. even if it meant the first thing you'd be doing in his vicinity would be screaming.

rain pattered on the roof. he did look a bit damp. "y/n," were the first words spoken in 3 months. it wasn't a question. and it certainly wasn't said in that desperate, breathy tone the men in movies laced into their words, proof that they'd spent hours dreaming of the holding of a hand or a kiss on the cheek. it was a statement.

"anakin," was your first response back. his name on your tongue seemed to snap the sense back into him. he shifted on his feet for the first time since you'd opened the door, and finally, anakin seemed to register just what was happening. you pursed your lips, gripping the knob until your knuckles turned white. "why— why are you here, anakin." not a question, either.

"i need—" his chest stuttered, "—a favor."

---

"no." your eighth word to anakin. no. what a powerful word. a simple, one syllable, two letter word that had the power to completely rip apart a whole spiel of pleas, a paragraph or two of asking. by saying just that one word, you killed a whole night's worth of planning and courage-building. but you weren't thinking much about that fact, then. no.

anakin stared incredulously at you. because he was definitely feeling the weight and wrath of that one word. he felt it like a nuisance. it was the silence that followed and the look of vacancy on your face. finally, he inhaled through his mouth, looked away. an annoyed expression enveloped his face, which was honestly laughable. "look—"

"no." 9th word. next, just to rub salt in the wound you'd formed with that one word, you bit out a humorless, horrible laugh, shaking your head and looking away. you didn't even know why you'd let your unofficial ex boyfriend into your house, sat him down at the table, and let him explain this "favor" of his. "you should leave, anakin. please."

his face hardened, shifting with your movements as you stood, expecting him to follow after. he did indeed, but stopped in front of you instead. "if this is about what happened—"

"i don't want to talk about what happened. ever. i thought you got the memo." rubbing a hand over your brows, you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head again.

"okay, fine. i won't bring it up. not once. after it's over, in fact, i'll leave you alone and never talk to you again, because that's what you want, right?"

it was mockery. anakin was mocking you. you stopped shifting, looking up at him with your mouth slightly agape and your eyes boring into his as if he was just joking. "y'know, you have some real nerve, coming to my house and expecting me to accommodate to your needs—which are some really stupid fucking needs—even after what happened. some real nerve. get out, anaki—!"

"i know! i know i do!" his hands flew out at either side of him, hovering, and thick brows knitted together, casting his face into madness. he was mad. he had the audacity to be mad. you were reminded again of why you left in the first place. you couldn't go 30 minutes without bickering. "do you think i'd be here if this situation wasn't drastic?! my mother will stab me in the eye if i show up to this dinner without you. literally stab me—!"

"your problems stopped being mine 3 fucking months ago. get out, anakin, or do i have to start screaming bloody murder until my neighbors call the cops?"

he shifted on his feet in that way that angry mothers did in movies, as if unbelieving of what was happening. even though he had brought it upon himself. "i know you hate me, y/n, for... for— what happened. and i know you blame me too. i understand it, but i have reason to hate you just as much. you might despise me, and i might despise you, but you need to understand just how important this is to beru. to my family. so can we please just— just..." the anger in his eyes shifted. so did something in your chest.

"i do. and i'm telling you no." you turned on your heel, walking down the hallway, opening the front door, and motioning him outside. he still stood at that spot in your kitchen. you inhaled deeply, your chest rising. "i don't care about you or your shit anymore, okay? i stopped fucking caring because you didn't fucking care. get out." he did not budge. groaning, you abandoned the door and walked back down, leaving it open. "you're still as egotistical as you were 3 months ago."

"and you're still as stubborn as you were 3 months ago."

"you're the one who refuses to get out of a woman's house."

"fine, you hold grudges just the same as you did 3 months ago."

"text me the fucking information and get out!" you snapped, and he didn't so much as flinch. because anakin knew what he was doing, wearing you down until you gave way.

relief washed over his face. you wanted to rip it clean off. what you didn't want was to give him the satisfaction. maybe it was petty. not maybe. it really was. standing here, in the same room as him, was like torture all over again. it brought back memories of days you thought you'd buried. but at the same time, what happened happened, and you couldn't make it go away by making him the villain. he was right. you hated to admit it, but it wasn't solely his fault after all. maybe it was meant to happen. and plus, how many times had he saved your ass when you asked for it? you owed it to him. you owed it all. so why was it so hard to say yes? cause you liked knowing he was desperate and you liked the way it felt, to turn down a desperate man just because of a past that was not solely his fault?

"maybe not as stubb—" you raised a hand as if to hit him and it was what sent him into a quick thank you and departure.

---

and so, because you blurted a hasty and angered approval with little to no actual thought behind your words, you sat at your small vanity and pinned your hair into an updo a week later, on an airy, wednesday afternoon. much too pretty an afternoon to be worrying over things like celebratory dinners. you didn’t even want to think of what would happen in the following hours, surrounded by a family you still knew every fault and strength of. next to a man you, of course, still loved. you also didn’t want to think about what you’d have to do to keep up this… act of dating with him in front of his sister and parents. there were too many things you didn’t want to think about.

the skin of your neck still whined about the burn you had acquired trying to curl your hair, which you were embarrassingly horrible at despite being good at styling hair otherwise. already you were annoyed and none of the actually annoying parts of the night had commenced yet. you'd given yourself an hour to get ready and with the curling iron incident and the trouble to pick out an outfit, you were just barely on time when you rushed out the door and drove off.

"thanks for showing up," were anakin's first words, leaned against the wall a few feet off from the entrance of the restaurant. but it wasn't a thank you. it was sarcasm. he stifled the butt of the cigarette between his fingers on the brick beside him and flicked it to the ground.

"you're welcome, and also very lucky," came your reply, gripping your black leather handbag in front of you and nervously looking around. even in your navy blue, satin gown, you felt poorly dressed. it was the best part of town and the restaurant not 3 feet from where you stood had only received good word and input.

"oh, yes. you've absolutely graced me with your presence." anakin pulled a hand from the bag and lifted it to his mouth, but you lightly—unfortunately—swatted at his face before he could kiss it.

"i'm actually hoping to un-grace you as soon as possible. let's get on with it, please and thank you." your eyes flew to the opening door, and the extravagantly-dressed couple that walked out laughing together, hand in hand, the sound of soft jazz and chattering words stumbling out after them. rich patchouli rode the air, and you breathed a handful of it in.

when you looked back, a bit confused as to why anakin hadn't answered with his own, snarky remark, you almost immediately got your answer. he was staring at the mark on your neck. fuck. you forgot to cover up the burn. his eyes were driven over with starkness, looking almost black instead of their usual blue. "curling iron." your free hand insecurely prodded at the burn, eliciting a sharp wince from your throat. "and stop staring at me, you creep. get on with it." your fingers fell and instead motioned to the door, telling him to lead the way in silence. anakin snapped out of whatever spiral he fell into and cleared his throat.

he turned fast enough to miss the prickle of redness that coated your cheeks.

---

the dinner went as expected.

beru's stomach bulged from under her overcoat, and she touched it almost every second. her eyes wore the tired and worn stare of a soon-to-be mother, and yet, she seemed ecstatic. you could tell she had not acquired much rest, and the same went for her boyfriend, owen. you'd met him maybe once or twice, and he seemed worthy enough of your almost-sister, though, in truth, you felt no one was worthy enough.

shmi was as she was three months ago. her hands still held their gentleness and her smile was just as soft and delicate. cliegg was no different, either. no one was different, in fact. so similar you felt you'd completely dreamt your breakup with anakin, that this was just another day, in love with him.

it appeared not.

"so, how are you two?" forks clanked against plates. bubbles of champagne popped and crackled in their cardigan of glass. your steak scraped your throat as you swallowed and met your unwelcoming stomach, your appetite gone. depleting further when the question was asked. "it's been so long since we last had a dinner like this." shmi's supple fingers rested atop cliegg's arm, her expression lightening as she looked to her husband and back to you. the two of you.

"it's been a long time in general," beru chimed. anakin leaned back from his plate, clearing his throat.

"yes. it has," he agreed. you straightened, pushing back your shoulders and nodding once.

"we've—" you looked to him for a second, the tender glance of a lover, as if you couldn't keep your eyes off of him for one moment. when he faked a smile, you did too. "we've been good. all the same, in the least."

shmi nodded her head, and beside her, cliegg leaned over the table, both arms on either side of his plate. "you talked about that orchestra last time we met, did you not?" the woman asked, cocking her head. "how's that going for you?"

"oh, it's all good." you never tried out.

"you'll get in," beru reassured.

"i'm sure she will." anakin reclined forward, meeting your eyes and smiling softly. you resisted the urge to scowl, resisted the urge to run away screaming, and in your haste, responded stupidly.

"don't jinx it." to your fortune, shmi laughed, and then beru, and then, everyone else.

"and anakin doesn't bother you too much, yes?" cliegg chimed in, eyes on yours. you shrugged, conjuring up an actually-thought-through answer.

"i'm still here, right?" more laughter. you chuckled yourself, delicately taking your champagne glass from the table and closing your still-smiling lips around the rim. you smiled as the bubbles clambered and fought for space in your mouth, and you smiled as they did the same all the way down your throat, the tangy citrus tasting more of poison on your tongue.

when you leaned back in your chair, you slyly spoke to the man beside you, "ice cream."

he looked to you then, confused, and you rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply. "my favor. you owe me ice cream. i don't know when, but you owe me ice cream."

anakin grinned then, and it made your empty stomach twist. "i thought you'd ask for a second life or my soul. maybe a genie lamp, knowing you. something undoable."

"lets not forget that i have the power to tell your whole family that your pathetic ass turned up at my door after we broke up 3 months ago, asking me to fake date you. i would watch your tone if i were you. something undoable." he shut his mouth, and your pride was short-lived upon realizing beru was staring strangely at you. quickly, you turned and captured his lips with your own. just a peck. you made sure to smile when you pulled away, and pinched him when the only thing on his face was surprise.

"nice going dumbass. you're blowing our cover," you said through a tender smile.

"since when have you cared about covers," he countered through his own.

"since ice cream was on the line."

---

soon, it became all unbearable.

anakin's presence beside you was the log in your throat and the death that loitered too often. everywhere. it was worse that you had to kiss him and hug him and love him like nothing but happiness was what your relationship was built off of. his lips were the nausea in your stomach and the worry in your brow, each bite of your steak like consuming toxin and tightening the noose around your throat further. you'd lost your appetite just by breathing his air.

"s'cuse me." you turned to him, lightly touching his arm and pulling him from his conversing, though you left before you could see the curiosity that combed through his blue eyes.

your time in the bathroom was spent fanning yourself off—it was, for whatever reason, sweltering hot in the restaurant—and staring at your reflection in the mirror. not to any surprise, even the bathroom was extremely expensive-looking, yet no one but a few, equally expensive-looking woman sauntered in and out while you were there. you earned looks, of course, but you also didn't care much. you needed a break and a cigarette horribly.

you were maybe 6 minutes into your isolation when the door opened and heels clicked. leaned over the sink, you watched the entrance and the woman step in through the mirror, but she was not just any woman.

"y/n?" beru's curious eyes met yours, and she quickly walked fully in and let the door close shut by itself behind her. you straightened, turning and clearing your throat.

"beru, hi," you breathed out. she cocked her head, brows pinning together.

"everyone's wondering where you are. you've been in here the whole time?"

"yea, sorry. just... period cramps." your eyes followed her stout figure as she knowingly nodded and reached into her purse, rummaging through the contents.

"i think i might have so advil in here," she mumbled more to herself than to you. "i never leave the house without it. y'know how it is." quickly, you paced the distance between you and her and rested a hand on her searching arm, stopping her. beru's gaze strayed to yours, having to crane her neck a bit, and she gave you a confused look.

"no, that's fine. i dont— i'm fine." more skepticism than confusion now. she eyed you down for a moment before retreating her hands and resting them beside her.

"alright..." a moment of staring. you awkwardly rubbed your hands down your lap, turning and pretending to fix a loose strand of hair in the mirror. silence passed. finally, her hand on your shoulder. you looked to her in the mirror, her gaze fixated on your reflection.

"are you okay?" it caught you off guard.

"yea— of course. why— why do you... uh— ask?" you sputtered, squirming.

beru pursed her lips, looking straight into your eyes in a way that made your body alert. "i don't know. there's tension, i've noticed." she stared a moment longer before walking to the sink beside you and leaning into the glass, fixing her makeup. "i thought you guys would be the next, y'know." her eyes flickered to her stomach. you gulped. "i guess... you know he loves you, right? i can tell." your stomach twisted, something you wished so badly wasn't tears pricking your eyes. the words hurt more than anything, because they made you think. they plunged you into that feeling, actually, forced thoughts you had worked to leave behind right back into your mind, erasing all those nights you turned away from that turmoil.

"if you need to talk, i'm always free." she turned her head to you, then walked over, squeezing your arm. you opened your mouth, searching for words you knew you wouldn't turn up with. "you're my friend. my sister. it doesn't matter if you aren't yet. you know i love you. you know everyone in that room loves you. but i've never seen someone love as much as anakin does you. it's something i can't fathom. sometimes, i think he might not deserve you, but then i see the way he looks at you. with hope. with emotions i thought could only be grasped in books and plays. he does love you, in case you ever doubt it."

those same tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as she leaned in and kissed your cheek. you thought. you thought so much, so distantly. so distantly you did not bother anakin the rest of the dinner. so distantly you almost forgot to say goodbye to shmi and cliegg. so distantly no one questioned it.

---

"fuck!" your shoulders slumped inward, every single emotion physically leaving your body except for lingering anger, which intensified and intensified and intensified. it quickly switched into worry.

the streets were not empty, of course. you could call an uber, but then you'd have to sit out here for a while, where it was cold and brisk and much too unwelcoming. you cursed towing companies and their stupidity, and cursed yourself for being late and not noticing you'd parked in a restricted area of the street. no car. no way home.

you turned away, surveying the roads across and exhaling deeply. "damn it. fuck. of course this happens to me." and so began the long walk back down to the restaurant, in hopes you'd find a taxi there, where it was much more populated. soon, your feet were throbbing in your heels and your handbag might as well have weighed 100 pounds.

"just a bit more," you spoke to no one but yourself and the loitering darkness, whispering and murmuring all around you. "a little longer—" headlights. a car turned on the road and clambered up the street, and was that... anakin. you stopped, and it stopped, and the engines noisily protested, but still, he rolled the window down and gave you a curious look.

"my car got towed," you explained, borderline panting. anakin raised his brows, and you half expected easy quips and a car driving off, but no.

"get in."

you paused, wondering if what had come out of his mouth had actually come out of his mouth. just to be snarky, you looked around a moment, then back at him, pointing to yourself. "a— are you talking to me— or do you do just casually drive up to women on the road and tell them to get in your car every night?"

"the latter. get in." rolling your eyes, you near-stomped up to the car and opened the door, slinking into the familiar seats. the smell of pine and rich bark filled your nose, and it brought back memories of so many things, that the scent seemed more foul than sweet.

"how unoriginal," you nodded to the tree-like car refresher hanging from the rearview mirror that was the whole reason it smelled this way.

"really, 'cause i remember you picking this out for me. said something along the lines of, 'now your car will smell good'."

you shut your mouth and looked out the window as he hit the pedal and started driving away from the street. in fact, you shut your mouth the whole ride to what you assumed was your house—unless he was planning to axe murder you, of course—and only opened it when you actually thought he was planning to. instead of keeping straight, he turned onto your town's main road and started through the many shops and stores.

"this is not the way dumbass."

"you think i forgot? it's only been three months. and you never told me to bring you home," anakin countered, looking to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"well i doubt you're any good at kidnapping, so where are you bringing me?" you studied the lines of his face, the way the shadows carved his cheeks and jaw and the stop lights brightened his eyes. your stomach twisted, and beru's words came rushing back. you wondered if you still looked at him in that way. hopefully. lovingly. stupidly.

"ice cream, dumbass.'

"i don't want ice cream anymore, dumbass."

"well too bad, 'cause i want it, dumbass."

---

"get me a—"

"i know!"

---

despite your earlier claims, you devoured your chocolate ice cream like it was the last thing you'd ever eat on earth, unknowing of just how hungry you were now that you didn't have any food to eat. the rich delicacy coated your tongue and bit into your throat, chilled and soft and so so lovely. you held anakin's pecan ice cream in your other hand as you walked out the small yet cozy shop and opened the car door—not without a struggle—slinking inside. you were a bit damp, as it was slightly drizzling out, but the rain was not what you cared for.

"how'd you remember my order?" anakin asked indifferently, his voice laced with easiness as you handed him the cup between your rapid licks.

"it's only been three months," you quoted him in a mocking tone, but was too fixated on the sweet treat in your hands to catch the look of annoyance he gave you. "shit. i don't think i don't even remember the last time i had ice cream. i forgot how good—" a lick, "—it is."

anakin chuckled. "it's not gonna run away. slow down."

"dessert waits for no one," you countered in a smart-ass tone, finally pausing to look his way. he stared incredulously at you, his lips parting and even more laughter gracing your ears and filling the chocolate-and-pecan tainted air. "what?" you pursed your lips, and his fingers came to his own, pointing.

"you uh—" laughter, "have something... everywhere."

"yea, thanks for the details, jackass. have something where," you mused with a slight smile.

anakin only laughed, trailing his mouth with his finger and watching you wipe at your face.

"there. is it gone?" you found yourself speaking in between your giggles.

"ice cream can never be that good," he teased, watching you finally pull down the mirror and inspect your lips. you gawked. it was everywhere. truly. even on your nose.

"yea, you're a great help, anakin."

"anakin?" he cocked his head, and you briefly looked to him, raising a brow. "i don't think i've heard you call me that yet. dickswab, yes, maybe shit-face."

"i hate you," you laughed, shaking your head and turning back to the mirror. "and if you don't eat that soon, i will." you gestured to the pecan ice cream in his hand that you'd only seen him manage two spoons of in your chocolate frenzy.

his eyes trailed your figure as you wiped and wiped and wiped, that perfect smile seemingly stuck to his lips. how long had it been since you last saw it, anyways? too long, you decided, as you turned and pushed away the mirror, meeting those stupidly blue irises with your own. yes. much too long.

"and you're the one who said you didn't want any," he quipped one last time before taking the spoon and digging it in, coming up with pecan-littered smoothness. his lips wrapped around the plastic, and your smile died as you watched him. silence fell. you stared and stared for what seemed like hours. "you're drooling."

"over the ice cream, duh," came your half-thought reply. but ice cream was a long-forgotten thing. he chuckled, eyes straying from the bowl, to your own. you gulped. again, quiet. it fell so easily. too easily. too calmly. but silence wasn't calm at all. it was s wild, unruly thing, and you could feel its chaos leeching the worry from you. feel it everywhere. the way he looked at you. hopefully. like in the books. beru's words came rushing back to you, and suddenly, the silence was not a good thing. it was horrible. it was death. you swallowed down thickness and lingering chocolate, your heart twisting in your chest as you thought back on what she said, and turned away.

"i— i'm tired." the mood immediately changed. "can you just bring me home now?"

his throat bobbed. "sure.." anakin must've felt the shift too, too, because a moment's stare at you longer and he was dropping the bowl into the cup holder and turning on the car, backing out and away from whatever had conspired in that moment.

as the stores hid behind the bend he turned on to your house, the unease that gripped your throat morphed into something bigger. something greater. anger. he had let you leave. no person who loved you as much as beru said he did would just let you leave without a fight. why hadn't he fought, anyways? he didn't love you. maybe at some point, but not nearing the end of your relationship. and maybe you were the one that left in the end, but it was never because you wanted to. it was because you wanted him. you wanted him back. you thought maybe, if you left, he'd see the impact you had on his life. he'd leave his differences behind, just to get you back. you thought he'd change. how stupid. how ironic. you almost laughed at it, too. because he would never. the whole reason you fought was because of his tendency to push you away. to isolate himself. to torture his mind with his thoughts. it drove you crazy, and it was what led to your relationships' demise.

"are you okay?"

"yea." you shrugged, staring out the window and tucking your hands between your closed thighs. but your tone was harsh and rude. he knew something was up, and to his credit, didn't question any further.

when, finally, he pulled into your driveway, tears were pricking your eyes. ones of anger, firstly, but sorrow for what could've been secondly.

"i'll walk you to your door," anakin offered as you unbuckled your seatbelt, doing the same.

"it's fine," was your only reply as you harshly opened the door and stepped out, squeezing your handbag like a lifeline. rain pattered against your skin, but you didn't seem to care. not as your hair soaked through and your dress clung to your body. you roughly shut it behind you and started walking the length up to your entrance, heels clicking on the concrete, when the loud thud of his own door shutting sounded beside you. you ignored him, even as his footsteps drew nearer underneath the sound of the rain.

"can you hold on for one moment?" anakin's voice called, then, his hand on your arm. you shoved him off of you, not even looking him in the eye.

"leave me alone." water slid down your face, and you were glad for it. glad the tears streaking your cheeks looked more like the precipitation than your feelings unraveled.

"what is your problem?!" he hissed, hair clinging to his forehead and liquid dripping off his lashes. "what did i even do?!" a demand.

you stopped, whirled around, and conjured up the nastiest look known to man on your face. "not what you did, anakin. what you did was hurt me, what you did was shut me out, what you did was pretend your own damn girlfriend didn't exist. but maybe that would've been excusable. it's what you didn't fucking do."

he shut his mouth, shriveled. you hadn't talked about it, and right now, you were. it was like an unspoken rule. don't speak of the breakup. but now... he stared into your hurt eyes.

"what you didn't fucking do, was go after me. how can you say that you love me, and then let me leave you?! do you think i wanted to go in the first place?! do you think for one second that i'd just leave you like that because of some stupid fucking fights?!" you cried over the rain. your sobbing was evident now. the rise and fall of your chest, the plea in your voice, hidden by anger, your face, twisted in frustration and pain. "answer me, anakin!" you hit his chest, and hit it again, your bag falling to the ground. "do you think for one fucking second, that i meant it when i said i hated you?! do you think i would just abandon you after 3 years of loving you because you turned away?! you selfish bastard!" you hit, and hit, and hit, and still, he did not budge. it infuriated you more.

your fists collided with his chest over and over again, and anakin just stared down at you, his face crumbling but still upright. you wanted it to fall. so badly. "you broke me! you fucked me up, asshole. i thought you'd go after me, i thought you'd care again, and you didn't! you didn't give two shits. and i don't hate you, but i hate you for what you didn't do for me. i hate you for not fighting, and i hate you for thinking that i wouldn't fight!" with each punch, you became slower. your arms became heavier. rain claimed you in its grasp, but you didn't care.

"say something, anakin," you begged, sobbing and stopping your fighting altogether. you stumbled back and your arms circled around your middle. he did not answer your plea. did not say anything at all. just studied you. finally, you bent and grabbed your slippery bag in your hands, staring at him a moment more and willing him to speak, before turning, heart heavy, to your door.

your hand was on the knob when his voice sounded. "i wanted you to leave." you bristled, and everything within you stopped. sadness, and then... "because i did not deserve you, and it hurt to know. it hurt to watch you linger around me, when i knew you could've done much greater things with your life. it hurt to know i was the one holding you back, that it was my fault you were in such pain. i couldn't... i couldn't handle it. i couldn't handle knowing you deserved a better man. someone who would hold you but not hold you back, someone who would care but not be overly careful. i was hurting you, and it hurt me. i wanted you to leave, not because i didn't want you, but because i knew you shouldn't have wanted me."

the words struck you like a bullet to the chest. your back was still to him, but your surprise was evident in the way your shoulders tensed, just as your heart did beneath the safety of your ribs. you stared at a crack in the wood and thought. the tears stopped, but rain still pattered across your face.

"and i know it is selfish. i know i'm a selfish bastard for hurting you in the way i did and deeming it for your own good, but it was killing me, too. loving you was killing me, because i loved you too much, but i knew no matter how much i did, i'd never deserve your love in return. and i should've told you, and i'm so sorry that i didn't, y/n, and i'm so sorry that i hurt you like this, and i know it's too late—"

"it's only been three months," you quoted. he had not noticed you turn around, looking so intently at anything but you, but now, his eyes were fixed on yours, and you were staring, and he was staring. and for a moment or two, rain was the only sound, his blue eyes were the only sight, and an eternity and a half later, he was kissing you.

back against the door, soaked hands in soaked hair, and the taste of weather on his lips. it was a kiss for three months lost, and it was everything. soft, then fervent, fervent, then soft, as if to make up for time long gone, and it really did. you felt every inch of him part against every part of you, and pressing, and pressing, and pressing. when you parted, you pulled a few inches away from him.

"there is no better man. there's only you, anakin." you whispered. "you're selfish and stupid, but only because you can't realize that. you can't not deserve someone who loves you, because it doesn't make sense. they chose you, so obviously you're worthy. and i hate you for not telling me, too, but i hate a lot of things." you shrugged. "so.. it's okay. i forgive you, and... i guess i'm sorry for hitting you... or whatever, but you deserved it for being stupid."

he laughed, and with red eyes you now knew were from crying, stared back into yours. "i hate you too, and i guess i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner." anakin's head cocked to one side, inspecting your wide smile. "and i see why you like the chocolate. it tastes good." he tasted it the rest of the night.

RED = TAYLOR REFERENCE AND I'LL BE PUTTING THEM IN ALL MY WORKS FROM NOW ON 🤭🤭

thanks for reading!! ik its a bit lengthy but i was grinding the shit out of this fic soooo

anyways, hope requester liked it! requests are always open ❤️❤️

@blairwaldrfsworld

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